There are messages in Scripture that are easy to understand when we embrace them. We should slow down and really breathe those in. Then there are others, like 2 Corinthians 12:7–10, that leave us with questions no matter how many times we return to them. Paul speaks with unusual vulnerability here: “a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to torment me, to keep me from becoming conceited.” We can feel the weight of it. But we’re not told what the thorn was. Paul leaves it unnamed.
That mystery is not a gap in the message. It’s part of the gift.
The Apostle doesn’t invite us to solve the mystery. He invites us to enter it with him—to follow him into a deeper dependence on the sufficiency of Christ’s grace. For nearly two thousand years, biblical scholars, pastors, and everyday believers have pondered this passage. Was it a physical ailment? Emotional trauma? Persecution? Temptation? Each generation has seen in Paul’s words something of their own struggle—and something of God’s mercy.
This devotional is not an attempt to “figure it out,” but to trace the long, faithful conversation around this passage. By examining how saints and scholars across the ages have interpreted Paul’s thorn, we begin to understand more than just one man’s suffering. We begin to understand how God meets all of us in our weakness. My hope is that this message will offer a deep encouragement to those who are learning to live by grace in struggling with a thorn.
The Bible says that all Scripture is theopneustos—God-breathed (2 Timothy 3:16). That means the Bible is not merely words on a page. It is breath that revives, fills, and sustains. The deeper we breathe it in, the more fully we come alive to its meaning. And sometimes, the richest air is found not in what is made obvious, but in what draws us deeper into holy mystery.
What Paul’s readers would have understood
When Paul described his affliction as a “thorn in the flesh,” he chose his words carefully. The Greek term he used—skolops—was not a poetic metaphor for mild discomfort. It referred to something sharp and embedded, like a splinter or a stake, piercing and persistent. In ancient military contexts, a skolops could be a stake driven into the ground, sharp end up, to wound or trap an enemy. In medicine, it described an object lodged in the body that couldn’t be removed. Paul’s audience would have understood this immediately as something painful, humiliating, and ongoing.
The phrase would also carry emotional and spiritual weight. Paul calls it “a messenger of Satan” sent to torment him—but also says it was given to him, twice emphasizing that its purpose was to keep him from becoming conceited. He prayed three times for it to be taken away, and three times he was told no. God’s answer—“My grace is sufficient for you”—became the center of his testimony, not its resolution.
In the ancient world, honor and strength were highly prized. Paul’s admission of weakness would have startled his readers. Yet in doing so, he reshaped their understanding of power. What mattered most was not the removal of suffering but the presence of grace in the midst of it.
This is part of what makes Paul’s thorn so compelling across generations. It is deeply personal, yet universally resonant. And because he leaves it unnamed, the church has been able to see its own struggles mirrored in his. Whether the thorn was physical, emotional, or spiritual, its sharpness and purpose remain clear—and its lesson even more so. Through the wound, Paul received the Word. Through the thorn, God breathed grace.
A long conversation through the centuries
Paul may have left the thorn unnamed, but the Church has not stopped asking what it might have been. From the earliest centuries, faithful interpreters have leaned in—some drawn by curiosity, others by a deep pastoral need to understand how grace works in suffering.
Tertullian and Jerome believed the thorn referred to a physical illness, possibly affecting Paul’s eyes. Their conclusion was partly drawn from Galatians 4, where Paul speaks of preaching in weakness due to a bodily ailment, and of the Galatians’ willingness to “gouge out their eyes” for him. Jerome even remarked that Paul’s eyes were afflicted “with disgusting discharges,” a blunt, if speculative, interpretation shaped by the raw honesty of the text and the physical realities of the ancient world.
Others saw the affliction differently. Augustine leaned toward the view that the thorn was a spiritual temptation—perhaps pride, lust, or anger—used by God to humble Paul continually. For Augustine, the ambiguity itself was spiritually instructive: it kept the reader from being distracted by the symptom and instead focused on the soul’s struggle and the sufficiency of divine grace.
In time, the Reformers joined the conversation. Calvin, typically cautious in speculation, noted the signs of a bodily infirmity but didn’t claim certainty. Instead, he emphasized what could be known for sure: that Paul’s weakness became the stage upon which God’s power was displayed. Luther echoed the same, teaching that the Christian’s strength is not in overcoming all suffering, but in clinging to Christ through it.
Each generation saw Paul’s affliction through its own lens—but the thread remained unbroken. They were not just seeking answers about Paul’s health. They were searching for the shape of God’s grace in their own suffering—and finding it in the echo of Paul’s thorn.
Signs in the text: A hint of failing sight
Scripture gives us several glimpses that suggest Paul’s thorn may have involved his eyes. The most striking comes in Galatians 6:11, where he pauses to say, “See with what large letters I am writing to you with my own hand.” In Paul’s day, letters were typically dictated to a scribe and signed at the end. But here, Paul not only identifies his handwriting—he draws attention to the oversized characters, almost as if he’s saying, Look, I’m writing this myself—and I have to write big so I can see it.
Taken together with Galatians 4:15—where he tells the believers that they would have torn out their own eyes for him—many have reasonably concluded that Paul suffered from some kind of chronic eye condition. It may have made him look pitiable, even gross, which explains his reference to the Galatians not scorning or despising him during his illness. He was physically diminished, yet they received him as if he were an Apostle of Christ.
Paul’s visual limitations, if that is indeed what the thorn entailed, only deepen the power of the message he was given: My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness. What the world would have counted as a disqualifying disability became a vessel of divine strength. Even the very act of writing—a task likely made painful and difficult—became part of his witness.
That Paul wrote at all, despite the hardship, reminds us that affliction does not disqualify a servant of God. It may, in fact, sharpen his message, slow his pace, and increase his dependence—all so that what is written is not merely by hand, but by grace.
Staying rooted in what is sure
There’s a necessary caution that must accompany every deep dive into Scripture: the goal of study is never to overshadow what God has made plain. It’s easy—even tempting—to let our speculations stretch beyond what the text allows, especially when a passage is as mysteriously open-ended as Paul’s thorn in the flesh. But Scripture does not ask us to fill in every blank.
Consider, for example, the idea that Paul’s eye trouble may have been a lingering result of the supernatural blindness he experienced on the Damascus Road. This has been speculated by some teachers and preachers. The light was blinding, we are told, and he was led by the hand into the city. Three days later, something like scales fell from his eyes and he could see again. That much is clear. But whether that moment caused permanent damage or recurring issues is something Scripture does not say. It may be a reasonable guess—but it remains just that: a guess.
When we breathe deeply in God’s Word, we must do so with reverence. We ask hard questions, we search with diligence, and we listen to the voices of those who have gone before us. But we do not reshape doctrine based on speculation. The unchanging truth is this: Paul was afflicted, Paul was humbled, and in that humility, Paul heard the voice of Christ say, “My grace is sufficient for you.”
That grace—spoken into weakness—is not reserved for apostles. It is offered to every believer. Be it past or present, physical or emotional, real or imagined - we all have a thorn. Have you discovered the grace that it holds for you?
Perhaps the takeaway for believers today is this: when we pray for healing, we should also pray for a revelation of God’s grace in our thorn. After all, it is by His grace we are saved, through His grace we are sustained, and in His grace, we are made whole.
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Note: An earlier version of this post was published on May 17, 2024.