“We want to avoid suffering, death, sin, ashes. But we live in a world crushed and broken and torn, a world God Himself visited to redeem. We receive his poured-out life, and being allowed the high privilege of suffering with Him, may then pour ourselves out for others.”
The Pain of Resistance
Elisabeth Elliot
The knee-jerk reaction for some in difficult circumstances could be “Why?”
The prayers of one navigating a storm are themed Rescue.
The angst of a loss spells itself in despair and rage. Indescribable grief may end with muted whimpers. Meaningless tragedy and purposeless pain are several. Almost like a cruel joke played by the Big Guy upstairs.
As painful as our circumstances already are, the rationales people may offer in hopes of cushioning the pain, often do the opposite of comfort.
Ever found the scriptures irrelevant and prayers meaningless? A sense of apathy to life making us corpses taught to speak positive words.
What we bring to our table of suffering greatly affects how we process suffering as well as how we receive comfort. Quite often what I wear to the table are rose coloured, tinted lens looking for the sunny side to sit in. And our comforter friend similarly trying to pull a seat for us in his/her sunny side. The truth of the matter is, sometimes there will be no sunny days. There will be no sunrise in the first place. There will be no map, no compass or a blueprint to our navigation. “That is not true, how did I miss that!”
We are surprised by suffering like it not ought to be, at least not in our lives.
“Why should the good suffer and the bad thrive?”
“Why should anyone deserve this?”
“This is not right, this is not how it’s supposed to be”
“The good triumphs evil”
“There should be a good reason”
“Why is God against me?”
“What good can possibly come out of this?”
So on and so forth are our innumerable, reasonable questions.
None may have the audacity or pretence to say they have discovered the meaning of human pain. But there is something chronic grief and pain realigns for us, our beliefs that make enduring possible even with joy.
1. Suffering and pain are inevitable on this side of life. There is definitely an element of truth in all our longings for “what ought to be” It is true it was never meant to be this hard and there will be a time when that will be. Until then sin will ravage us in unexpected ways but cannot ever steal our hope and victory even amidst it.
2. There is not one person who is undeserving of pain. Sin and evil is the cup we all drink from in parts or whole. But we drink of the cup without exception, and we are prone to be broken by sin both ours and others without exception. Our greatest good still falls short of God’s righteousness.
3. There is only substantial healing in this world. Our happy endings on this side of heaven may not exactly be the kind we pictured. Nevertheless, there is a happy ending, maybe just not here yet.
There is no one God’s favourite who was not scorched by pain in the Bible and in history, so removing suffering from the equation of Christian living is unnaturally wrong.The reality of suffering and pain has passed the test of time and history and has not diminished. So, what does suffering mean for a gospel believing person?
Admittance to suffering is not the same as helplessly surrendering to fate. Admittance to suffering for a believer simply means acknowledging that sin has evil ramifications irrespective of who we are and yet God alone can purpose them all for our good. In the hierarchy of the greatest good that can come from our suffering, is the popularly underlined and suitably modified verse “All things work together for good, to those who love God.”
And we hope somewhere that it would be our ‘rags to riches’ story. When that is not our story especially in meaningless tragedies and accidents, disappointment strikes us deep enough to walk away from the faith.
There are deep, deep, indescribable realities of pain in this world, and the highest purpose of suffering that God intends for any of us, irrespective of the kind of tragedy is this: To be made like Jesus. This verse comes right after the “all things work together” (Perhaps we missed it, I did for a long, long time)
As meaningless as some suffering and seemingly no good can come from it, God assures us of making us like Him and that one day it will result in Glory. The kind of gory that will outweigh every pain endured. The distant hope of glory may not necessarily cushion us from today’s pain. But the hope of a suffering Christ to walk with us is comfort worth knowing.
Would a God who did not stop the holocaust be concerned with me misplacing my keys?
Truth is he does, just not in the way in we want or expect. He is sculpting us into His image in the big and the small.
Very often our prayers for deliverance and rescue scream immediate relief, when that doesn’t come, we doubt our faith even more so in the goodness of a God. Our immediate rescue is, by all means, possible for God, yet, when rescue doesn’t fit the syllabi of making us like Him- he seldom rescues. Resisting God in suffering and making it on our own strength, is often more painful and long than surrendering to Him.
Should then we stoically suffer? I don’t think so. God is big enough to handle our tantrums and doubts, our angst and fist thumping all through the troubled waters. So we grieve authentically, individually and together, we find fragments of light in the tunnel in the form of friendships and community. Grieving in a community has a way of lightening a tiny bit of pain, a little bit each day.
To be like Jesus in life and death, literally means suffering from hope, hope in the purpose as well as hope in the glory to come. May we suffer well together?
“We want to avoid suffering, death, sin, ashes. But we live in a world crushed and broken and torn, a world God Himself visited to redeem. We receive his poured-out life, and being allowed the high privilege of suffering with Him, may then pour ourselves out for others.” Elisabeth Elliot
He Aletheia 