The Mystery of Suffering

Many people in our church family are suffering right now, worrying about finances, serious illness, and difficult family situations. I was already pondering these and the other sorrows of life when hurricane Katrina hit. Reports of the storm’s aftermath are staggering.

The question is: why?

Why does a God of love allow suffering?

It is a mystery that has challenged people throughout the ages. The faith of Christians can be shaken during times of tragedy. For many, suffering is such an obstacle that it actually prevents belief.

The answer to the mystery is of course, Christ.

And though we know that Christ is the answer, we still have difficulty understanding. When we suffer, our natural instinct is to resent and resist. St. Augustine said that we are like bats or owls; we see shadows well, but not the sun. By its excess of light the sun blinds us. We are blinded and not able to see beyond the veil, the obvious. We see the suffering, but not its fruits.

Aquinas said: “Since God is the highest good, He would not allow any evil to exist in His works unless His omnipotence and goodness were such as to bring good even out of evil.”

But what does this actually mean? How can a young man struggling with cancer, or a region wiped out by wind and flood be a good thing?

Consider what it is like to be a toddler. The day starts with a breakfast that he does not want to eat; he wants chocolate and his mother refuses to give it to him. Later in the day, mom takes him to the doctor where he receives a series of immunizations. He is frightened by the process and by the pain. It seems unfair that a mother, the essence of love, would subject him to such an experience. The day continues and Mom and son head off to the beach. Just as he is about to run gleefully toward the water, mom holds him back to apply sunscreen. He is infuriated that his desires are thwarted, and screams at the injustice. What a day it has been!

We are like that child; limited in our knowledge of the universe and not understanding why life is full of disruptions and pain and delayed pleasures. God is like that mother; doing what is best for her child out of love, despite our pleas and protests.

But even if we choose to believe that God is doing good through our suffering, the question remains: how does it work?

Teilhard de Chardin taught that “God must, in some way or other, make room for himself, hollowing us out and emptying us, if he is finally to penetrate into us.” Peter Kreeft echoes the idea, saying that suffering hollows out hidden places in our souls so that when we are in heaven we can contain “more of the light and joy of the beatific vision.”

Suffering develops wisdom, which leads to true happiness, because happiness requires wisdom, and wisdom requires suffering. Rabbi Abraham Heschel said, “the man who has not suffered, what can he possibly know, anyway?”

Suffering builds unity and togetherness between fellow sufferers. It offers opportunities for compassion and charity.

Suffering builds strength. As part of the church militant, we are warrior swords. God allows physical and emotional storms to strengthen us, just as metal is hardened by fire.
God also disciplines us through suffering, as Heb 12:5-6 explains: …“my child, do not regard lightly the discipline of the Lord, or lose heart when you are punished by him; for the Lord disciplines those whom he loves, and chastises every child whom he accepts.”

Mother Angelica says that every time a major prayer is answered in her life, it is preceded by a storm of one kind or another. When things start to get difficult, she gets excited, wondering what blessing is on the way.

We can see how God uses suffering in these ways for our own good. But there is something greater, something deeper, something majestic in His plan for suffering; the opportunity for vicarious atonement.

Jesus said to pick up our cross and follow him. And he meant it. Literally. He didn’t mean to trivialize the difficulties that face us, or to minimize our day-to-day challenges into some trite recipe for living. He meant that we too would have crosses; we too would be crucified. Kreeft says “Calvary was not a freak, an exception; it was the hub of the wheel, the center of the system, the trunk of the tree.”

Rom 8:28-29 states: And we know that he works all things together for the good of those who love God, who are called according to His purpose.

What was Christ’s purpose? To redeem the world through His suffering. To sacrifice His life so that we would have eternal life. To be battered and demeaned and eventually killed.

Crucifixion was torture. It was a horrible and humiliating way to die. Imagine the pain and dejection of carrying the cross; splinters in the hands, the wood slippery from blood, the crowds jeering as you pass...

We too are called to this purpose, HIS purpose. We too are called to experience suffering so that others may be saved. That’s what he anticipated for us; the cross.

How can a God of love give these directions? What does it mean?

It means that suffering is not the ultimate horror. For Jesus, it was His ultimate act of love, His ultimate victory, His ultimate saving act. And we are directed to do the same.

Why?

In Col 1:24 Paul wrote: Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I do my share on behalf of His body, which is the church, in filling up what is lacking in Christ's afflictions.
This may be the secret to bringing about God’s kingdom on earth, restoring Eden, returning the world to paradise. It may be that this is how the good news will eventually be spread throughout all nations; by the transformation of suffering and death into redemption.

Can the sting be taken out of death by an act of will, just as Christ’s death did?

The Divine Mercy Chaplet includes the phrase “O Blood and Water that gushed forth from the Heart of Jesus as a fountain of mercy for us, I trust in You.” John 7:38 (RSV) says “He who believes in me, as the scripture has said, 'Out of his heart shall flow rivers of living water.'”
Do you understand what this means?

Jesus said that we who believe, through suffering as he did, can pour out the waters of mercy. The flow of blood and water out into the world from the stab wound in Jesus side was His final human act. Jesus invites us to offer our bodies for the same purpose; to allow ourselves to be sacrificed so that from our wounds God’s redemptive power can flow.

I think this is the crucial reason God allows our suffering to exist; so that we have the opportunity to transform it, the chance to join in the work of Christ in the deepest, most fundamental way. We are taught to think about “what would Jesus do” when making decisions. Well what he would do is allow himself to be beaten and killed. That’s what he did.

God allows sorrow and suffering to exist so that we can follow Jesus instructions. So that we can transform this world by reforming and transforming our suffering into a redemptive force.
Imagine the transformative power that could be generated by the survivors of hurricane Katrina… Imagine the force of feeling, heartbreak, and anguish… Imagine that staggering degree of anguish directed toward the salvation of souls.

Here we sit, relatively untouched by the whole thing. Yet we too have sorrows and difficulties to face. We too experience worry, loss, confusion, betrayal, and disappointment. We can choose to simply let Satan gloat in our tears, or we can choose to redirect and transform it. We can choose each day, with each ache and pain, each frightening idea, each thought about a dying friend, to join our sorrows to those of Christ on the cross, for the furtherance of His work, for the redemption of the world.

Peter Kreeft says that when we offer our sorrow up to him, he “takes it and uses it in ways so powerful that we would be flattened with wonder if we knew them now.” Suffering itself can be turned into perfect joy through faith, hope and love; it is a mystery that we cannot understand, but that we can enter into. When we trust God enough to know that His will for us is perfect in every way, we are granted peace. No happiness can be deeper than that which we experience by accepting God’s will, even when that means suffering.

As a charismatic communion, we thank God for the actions of the Holy Spirit, and pray that we can build His kingdom through the healing miracles He performs in our midst. In all our sufferings we ask that God “take this cup”. And if it is His will that we suffer, we can ask that we suffer as Christ did, for the same purpose. For this, as for all things, we give Him thanks.