When Paul reflected on his ministry, he made a statement deeply counterintuitive to a culture—even, at times, an evangelical culture—obsessed with power: “If I must boast, I will boast of the things that show my weakness” (2 Corinthians 11:30).

In the Western-influenced world, where Christians are often as obsessed as the world with power, success, and image, Paul’s declaration sounds upside down. But that is exactly the point. In a society where even spiritual leaders were boasting about influence and charisma, Paul reminded the Corinthian church that weakness, dependence, and humility—rather than showmanship—are the marks of true gospel ministry.

Weakness as a Theme

The word “weakness” runs through 2 Corinthians like a golden thread. Paul does not shy away from it—he embraces it. The so-called “super-apostles” (11:5) boasted in credentials and accomplishments (11:22). But Paul’s “credentials” looked very different: imprisonment, beating, shipwreck, sleepless nights, and hunger (11:23–27). And as a climax to his “foolish boasting,” he shares one last story—not of triumph, but of humiliation:

At Damascus, the governor under King Aretas was guarding the city of Damascus in order to seize me, but I was let down in a basket through a window in the wall and escaped his hands.

2 Corinthians 11:32–33

What a strange boast! Being smuggled out of a city in a basket hardly screams heroism. It looks more like defeat. But that’s precisely why Paul shared it. His ministry was never about presenting himself as strong, but about pointing to the strength of Christ in his weakness.

A Basket of Shame

Paul’s conversion happened on the road to Damascus (Acts 9:1–7). Once a fierce persecutor of the church, he met the risen Christ, who radically transformed him. After arriving in Damascus, he was baptised and immediately began preaching Jesus (Acts 9:20–22). This bold proclamation stirred up opposition, and a plot to kill him soon followed (Acts 9:23–24). His fellow believers helped him escape under cover of night—through a hole in the city wall, lowered in a basket.

Why bring this up now, years later?

First, it confirms his consistent calling. From the very beginning, Jesus made it clear that Paul would suffer for his name: “For I will show him how much he must suffer for the sake of my name” (Acts 9:16).

Paul’s life was not marked by prestige, but persecution. This was not a sign of failure, but of faithfulness. True ministers of the gospel will face hardship (2 Timothy 3:12). Suffering is not an accident in the Christian life—it’s the way of the cross.

Second, the story highlights Paul’s weakness. He didn’t storm out of Damascus in glory. He was lowered like contraband in a basket. It was awkward, humiliating, and dependent on others. And yet, it was precisely in that shameful moment that Christ’s strength was displayed.

The false apostles had no such stories. Their version of ministry was clean, controlled, and impressive. But Paul’s was messy, costly, and risky. He was willing to look weak if it meant exalting Christ.

Shame as a Tool for God’s Glory

In South Africa, the word “shame” is unusually versatile. We say “shame” when someone dies. We say “shame” when a baby is born. Sometimes we say it when we have nothing else to say. But Paul redefines shame. What looked like shame—being lowered in a basket—became a story of grace. In God’s economy, he uses for his glory that which the world mocks. “Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord” (2 Corinthians 10:17).

Paul didn’t boast to puff himself up. He boasted to bring attention to Jesus, who sustained him through every trial. The humiliating escape from Damascus wasn’t a detour from God’s plan—it was the beginning of a faithful, fruitful ministry.

Shame’s Lessons

Paul’s words challenge us to reevaluate how we view weakness, suffering, and success. Are we ashamed of looking weak for Christ? Is our Christian life more about image than obedience? Do we avoid sharing the gospel because we fear rejection or ridicule?

We live in a world that celebrates strength and mocks weakness. But in God’s kingdom, it’s the opposite: “For when I am weak, then I am strong” (2 Corinthians 12:10). Like Paul, we are called to embrace a cross-shaped life. That may include suffering, rejection, or even humiliation. But it also includes the presence and power of Christ.

The Poison of the “Shameless”

Paul warned the Corinthians about the influence of false teachers who promoted a triumphalistic gospel with no room for weakness or suffering (2 Corinthians 11:4). Are we being shaped by those voices? Are we suspicious of faithful ministers simply because they don’t match the world’s standards of success?

If so, Paul calls us to repent—to turn away from worldly wisdom and return to the gospel of Christ crucified, to stop chasing glory and start embracing the cross. Faithful ministry is not glamorous. But it is glorious—because it points to a Saviour who bore our shame and gives us joy in him.

If you don’t know Christ, let me be frank: Following him won’t necessarily make your life easier. In fact, it may bring hardship. But it will save you from something far worse: the wrath of God. “Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ” (Romans 5:1). Trusting in Jesus brings forgiveness, reconciliation, and the power to endure any trial. Call upon him today. You may feel weak, but his grace is sufficient for you.

Conclusion

The Christian life is not about looking strong—it’s about boasting in our weakness so that Christ’s strength can be seen. Paul’s basket story is a picture of the gospel: We are lowered in shame, but raised by grace. May we, like Paul, learn to say: “If I must boast, I will boast of the things that show my weakness” (2 Corinthians 11:30).

About the author

Doug Van Meter is the pastor-teacher of Brackenhurst Baptist Church in Johannesburg, South Africa. He is married to Jill and together they have five daughters, four sons-in-n-law and a growing number of grandchildren.