God Loves a Good Paradox

       My brother and I have a knack for getting ourselves lost in good conversation. During our most recent trek we found ourselves discussing the applicability of literature over Town Topic's crackling griddles and popping fryers. Though at the time I was dizzy with the smell of grease, I have thought about a particular of our talk for the weeks that followed. My brother had been reading David Foster Wallace's Infinite Jest, so he relayed a line to me that he found most astute: "The truth will set you free. But not until it is finished with you." This line grabbed hold of me then, and its grip lingers still. The more I consider the words the more deeply I see my misunderstanding of truth and its power, especially within the realm of biblical truth.

       Examine one of my favorite Scripture passages: 2 Corinthians 12:9-10 "And He said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in needs, in persecutions, in distresses, for Christ's sake. For when I am weak, then I am strong." These verses helped me cope with many anxieties throughout my high school years, and they still come to my rescue often. What a comforting thought: "It's OK that I'm not perfect because Jesus was perfect for me!" However, this passage has taken on a new and heavier meaning in light of Wallace's writing.

        The sentences that once held so much comfort now present themselves as an opponent in a wrestling match. Yes, it is wonderful that I am not required to be powerful, but I've discovered that I'm not content with not being powerful. I want to be recognized for my greatness. I want to say I've earned the good things I have. I want to know I can be self-sufficient. But these desires are completely counter to the truth of the verses I've held dear for so long. I was too close to see how far I was from understanding. And this is where the wrestling match begins. Though I long for the comfort of resting in Christ's righteousness, I am not willing to give up working for myself. Though I know I'm nothing without Jesus, I don't truly want to see myself as nothing.

And here is where Wallace's words help me view Paul more clearly. For a long time I've only looked at the uplifting side 2 Corinthians 12:9-10, "Jesus is my everything!" But I haven't dealt with what that means for my pride. In order to experience the full freedom Christ offers, I must battle my longing to be exceptional. I must accept my weaknesses before I can be strong in Jesus. Only in realizing my full humanity can I better understand Christ's divine power working in me. These truths cause me sincere and great pain because I fear insignificance. But I've realized that's the point. Blessed are those who know they have nothing to offer because Christ will give them everything in Himself.

What a higher and more glorious reality these verses contain than I previously thought.

So this is what I've learned: truth is seldom easy. Usually, for something to truly change me and grow me, it has to break me first. I have to be broken of my pride before I can walk in the freedom of Jesus' sacrifice. I have to experience the pain of dying to myself so I can live in Christ's power. Hard things lead to the Ultimate Good things, and because of this principle, there can be joy in the pain. Wallace was right: freedom comes after losing the fight with truth. When truth overtakes me, I am then able to be victorious. I hate this reality, but I also love it. Truth is tricky like that.