2 Corinthians 12

Paul opens by hesitating. He will speak of spiritual experiences, but he is already distancing himself from the act of boasting. The phrase "it is not expedient" suggests that even though he could boast, something in him resists. To speak of visions as credentials for apostolic authority feels like a concession to his critics.

Paul speaks of himself in the third person - "I knew a man." This is humbling. He distances himself from the experience even as he recounts it. "Caught up" suggests rapture, transport beyond his own control. He doesn't know if he was in the body or out of it. The experience transcends physical categories.

Paul speaks of "paradise" - a place of ultimate joy and peace. "The third heaven" and "paradise" are used interchangeably here. Paul saw what very few have seen. Yet he cannot speak it. The experience itself passed beyond words, into realms where human language breaks down.

Paul deliberately does not tell us what he heard. The experience is sealed. He respects the boundary. He will not vulgarize what is sacred by trying to reduce it to words. This restraint - this silence - is itself an act of faith.

Paul makes a distinction. He will boast - but not of himself. He will boast of what happened to him, of what God did. The visions are God's gift, not evidence of Paul's spiritual achievement. This is the pivot of the entire chapter: Paul refuses to be impressed with himself.

Paul could boast more. But he stops himself. "I forbear" - he holds back. Why? Because to say everything he could about his spiritual experiences would cause people to think more highly of him than they should. He prefers to be seen as he really is: weak, human, dependent.

Paul's visions were so extraordinary that they could have inflated him with pride. God knew this. So He gave Paul something else: a limitation. A thorn. A messenger of Satan - allowed by God - to humble him.

This phrase is shocking: a "messenger of Satan." Yet it is permitted by God. This is not contradiction. God uses even the work of the adversary to accomplish His purposes. Satan meant the thorn for destruction; God means it for sanctification.

Three times Paul prayed - the number of petition, of persistence. He was desperate. He asked God to remove the thorn. This is a man fighting for relief. And God says no.

Grace. The answer is the sufficiency of God's grace in the midst of the thorn. Grace is provision. The word "sufficient" means "to be enough" - enough to sustain, enough to work in, enough to be complete within.

This is God's great paradox: strength is "made perfect in weakness." Not strength displayed through weakness, but strength perfected, completed, fulfilled through weakness. Weakness is the condition in which God's power becomes visible.

Paul's response is radical. He stops asking for the thorn to be removed and instead "glories" in his infirmities. He chooses them, because he has seen that God works through weakness more powerfully than through strength.

Paul lists the catalogue of his sufferings: infirmities, reproaches, necessities, persecutions, distresses - in actual experience. And to each one he adds: "for Christ's sake." His suffering has a shape and direction: apostolic. And in it, he finds strength.

Paul says he "takes pleasure" in his sufferings - a joy in knowing that each limitation is an occasion for God to work. He has shifted from asking "how can I avoid this?" to "what is God doing in this?"

Paul returns to his opening hesitation. Boasting feels foolish to him. And yet the Corinthians "compelled" him. They forced his hand by doubting his authority. So he spoke - against his nature. The irony is complete: Paul has proven his apostolic credentials by showing his weakness.

And yet his conclusion: "though I be nothing." His worth rests on God's choice to work through him, not on his own accomplishments. He is nothing in himself - and that nothingness is his greatest strength because it leaves room for God.

Paul did perform signs and wonders. He is not denying that his ministry bore the marks of apostolic authority. But he did something else: he did not burden the Corinthians for support. He worked with his own hands. He gave instead of taking.

Paul is being ironic. He says "forgive me this wrong" - as if his refusal to be supported was an offense. In fact, it was his greatest gift to them: a model of ministry devoted to giving.

Paul is coming a third time. His concern is not financial support. He will not be "burdensome" - a word that plays on parasitic relationships. He will not take from them.

This is the pivot sentence. "I seek not yours, but you." He seeks them - their souls, their growth, their salvation. The parent pours everything into the child.

Paul will exhaust himself on their behalf. And he knows the cost: the more he loves them, the less love he will receive in return. This is the calm calculation of a pastor who has made a choice.

Paul is being sarcastic. Some are saying that while Paul refused their money, he was "crafty" and "caught them with guile" through others. He is denying it - and his questions are rhetorical: Did I profit through Titus? Did he profit? The answer is no.

Paul appeals to the highest court: God Himself. He is speaking the truth before God. Everything he has done has been "for your edifying" - for the building up of the church.

Paul's final words are about the Corinthians. He fears what he will find when he arrives. The church is fragmented. Broken. His fear is for them - that they may be falling away.

The catalogue of sins is grim: debates (disputing), envyings (jealousies), wraths (angers), strifes (contests), backbitings (slanders), whisperings (gossip), swellings (arrogance), tumults (riots). The list piles up. These are relational sins. The church is eating itself.

Paul says "I will bewail them" - mourn them. His heart is weeping, not raging. Many have sinned and not repented. They are in spiritual danger. Paul's heart is breaking for them.