In Suffering – God is There
For as long as history has been recorded, human suffering has been part of that history.
The Bible never shies away from the subject of suffering. It never depicts an idyllic existence this side of heaven for any of God’s children. In fact, Jesus said that his Father, “Gives his sunlight to both the evil and the good, and he sends rain on the just and the unjust alike” (Matt. 5:45).
Admittedly, this declaration leaves us with little comfort. This is exactly the problem we have with suffering – God's ways are indiscriminate. We are left to wonder why he doesn’t leave suffering out of our lives entirely and shower us with only blessings instead. Or at least, reward the life of the righteous with no suffering and let the wicked suffer instead.
To some, It might seem fair that God is indiscriminate – showing no favouritism, treating everyone equally. Or is it? If we are treated equally, then why do we still have so many questions about his justice? Obviously, some don't think they are being treated fairly at all. And besides, why do some people seem to be on the receiving end of more suffering to endure than others? I’ll admit, there are no easy answers. We are left with only the inevitable fact that we will all face suffering.
Timothy Keller said, “No matter what precautions we take, no matter how well we have put together a good life, no matter how hard we have worked to be healthy, wealthy, comfortable with friends and family, and successful with our career — something will inevitably ruin it.”[1] And one of those things can be suffering.
Perhaps you have felt like Job in the Bible. If you don’t know who Job is – his story is worth reading. Few have ever suffered like Job. He tried to find answers for his suffering. He thought God was unjust to let him suffer like he did. Listen to his lament:
I cry out to you, God, but you do not answer; I stand up, but you merely look at me. You turn on me ruthlessly; with the might of your hand, you attack me. You snatch me up and drive me before the wind; you toss me about in the storm. I know you will bring me down to death, to the place appointed for all the living. “Surely no one lays a hand on a broken man when he cries for help in his distress. Have I not wept for those in trouble? Has not my soul grieved for the poor? Yet when I hoped for good, evil came; when I looked for light, then came darkness. The churning inside me never stops; days of suffering confront me” (Job 30:20-27).
Job’s grief was expressed with powerful emotion and soaring rhetoric. His suffering was palpable. We can understand why he questioned God. He seemed to be doing everything a righteous man should do. His friends did not comfort him either. Their counsel only made matters worse. They made him feel that his suffering was a direct punishment for his sin.
Perhaps you are also tempted to believe that your suffering is a punishment for your sin. But even though sin and suffering are clearly connected in a universal sense, and living in rebellion against God can cause us heartache now—the amount of suffering a person endures is not proportional to his or her sin.
The book of Job dramatizes this point. God would eventually vindicate Job in front of all his friends. He was a man of integrity.
Jesus also countered the thinking that people’s suffering is because of their sinful behavior:
About this time Jesus was informed that Pilate had murdered some people from Galilee as they were offering sacrifices at the Temple. “Do you think those Galileans were worse sinners than all the other people from Galilee?” Jesus asked. “Is that why they suffered? Not at all! And you will perish, too, unless you repent of your sins and turn to God. And what about the eighteen people who died when the tower in Siloam fell on them? Were they the worst sinners in Jerusalem? No, and I tell you again that unless you repent, you will perish, too.”[2]
Jesus was saying that these people suffered not because they were worse sinners than anyone else. Instead, he pointed out that a far worse form of suffering awaits all of us if we don’t repent. He pointed out that people would suffer eternal separation from God.
This teaching sets Christianity apart from Buddhism that teaches karma and reincarnation. Within Buddhism, our present circumstances are the result of past actions: sins in a past life can determine suffering here and now.
Not so in Christianity. Indeed, if anything, Christianity reverses that paradigm: those who live in privilege now are warned of an afterlife of suffering if they do not deny themselves and suffer for Christ here in this life. Those who suffer now are closest to God’s heart. This dynamic is explored in one of Jesus’s most uncomfortable parables—a story guaranteed to send chills down the spine of every person. It’s the parable of the rich man and Lazarus (see Luke 16:19–31).
While we can absolutely look for meaning in our suffering, we should not use it as a measuring stick for guilt or think that if we only prayed harder or had more faith or did better, our lives would be free of suffering.
The prophet Habakkuk was troubled by God’s version of justice and all the suffering he saw around him. I am sure you can identify with him: "How long, O Lord, must I call for help? But you do not listen! “Violence is everywhere!” I cry, but you do not come to save. Must I forever see these evil deeds? Why must I watch all this misery? Wherever I look, I see destruction and violence."[3]
We wonder how Habakkuk could even pray with everything that was happening around him? We may also wonder how we can pray amid our own suffering – when we cannot find the words to describe our feelings or our sense of injustice? Or we may be puzzled as to how we can even comfort others, when pure evil leaves us paralyzed, numb and questioning?
How are we to live and have faith in God’s promises when what we would prefer is an explanation? How can we find peace when our present suffering will never leave us the same?
One thing we must understand is that God is big enough to handle our laments, complaints, and questions. We can’t unsettle him by our questions, even about our own suffering.
Habakkuk opens his prayer to God (Habakkuk 1:1-11) by insinuating that God is dead. He would not be the first or the last person to insinuate this. If we can learn anything about Habakkuk’s prayer, it is that we can pray in the same manner. Pray as the Old Testament prophet Habakkuk prayed: Are you really who you say you are God? (Habakkuk 1:12-2:20). Pour out your heart to God in prayer and use raw words if you must. Religious clichés will not be of help to you. Bumper sticker theology or fortune cookie comments – hopeless.
Job and Habakkuk’s interaction with God reminds us that the life of faith often involves lament, complaint, and the pouring out of one’s honest emotions to God. God is very patient with us when we are desperate. You can safely pour out your soul to him– his Son, for Jesus understands our suffering.
We must look to the “who” when we do not understand the “why.” Habakkuk did. The book of Habakkuk ends not with despair but with hope in the God of his salvation:
Though the fig tree should not blossom
And there be no fruit on the vines,
Though the yield of the olive should fail
And the fields produce no food,
Though the flock should be cut off from the fold
And there be no cattle in the stalls,
Yet I will exult in the Lord,
I will rejoice in the God of my salvation.
The Lord God is my strength,
And He has made my feet like hinds’ feet,
And makes me walk on my high places. (Habakkuk 3:17-19)
Notice that nothing changed in Habakkuk’s situation. The suffering God proclaimed for Judah was still inevitable. Habakkuk knew he would go through it. Still, he can end his book in hope. There’s only one reason he was able to do this: He sought God for his own sake, not for the sake of his blessings.
When we start to lose what we value—whether people, things, or comfort—we will quickly discover whether we’ve been worshiping God because we’re counting on him to improve our life and protect us from harm, or we are worshiping him because of who He is. We must remember, if God were small enough to be understood, he wouldn’t be big enough to be worshipped.
Even if you could understand suffering intellectually, it will not be until you experience suffering firsthand that a sincere assessment of these questions will take place at the level of the heart and will.
When that refinement happens, we will continue to lament like Habakkuk—and even dread—inevitable suffering – but our ability to worship will not be threatened. We will exult in the Lord, rejoicing in the God of our salvation, the God who strengthens us to continue walking with him through any and every situation.
We all know people who have been made much meaner and more irritable and more intolerable to live with because of suffering: it is not right to say that all suffering will perfect us. It only perfects one type of person – the one who accepts the call to follow Jesus Christ.
This is what Peter meant when he wrote to Christians, “Dear friends, don’t be surprised at the fiery trials you are going through, as if something strange were happening to you. Instead, be very glad—for these trials make you partners with Christ in his suffering, so that you will have the wonderful joy of seeing his glory when it is revealed to all the world.”[4]
We must remember that even Jesus didn’t escape suffering. The writer of Hebrews said the following in Heb. 5:8-9, “Even though Jesus was God’s Son, he learned obedience from the things he suffered. In this way, God qualified him as a perfect High Priest, and he became the source of eternal salvation for all those who obey him.”
Augustine was right to say, “God had one Son on earth without sin, but never one without suffering.”
Martin Luther also asked a poignant question, “They gave our Master a crown of thorns. Why do we hope for a crown of roses?” Luther wrote from an intense personal experience when he addressed the topic of enduring trials and suffering. Throughout his life, Luther experienced ill health, often severe. He had to deal with problems of the heart, kidney and bladder stones, ulcerated legs, devastating prostate troubles, migraine headaches and recurrent breathing difficulties.
However, Luther refused to see his illness as divine punishment but rather as a natural consequence of man’s sinful state. It was to be countered with both prayer and meditation, by one who relied ultimately on the will of God. Indeed, he felt God’s presence and power more acutely in his sickness than in times of greater vitality. After recovering from an illness so serious that his basic life signs were undetectable, Luther wrote the great hymn, “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God,” in which he expressed his trust in God’s victory over the devil’s forces with these concluding words, “Though life be wrenched away, they cannot win the day. The kingdom is ours forever.”
There is a purpose in suffering, and if faced rightly, it can drive us deep into the love of God and into more stability and spiritual power than we could ever imagine.
Elizabeth Elliot wassomeone who was very familiar with suffering. She said, “I am not a theologian or a scholar, but I am very aware of the fact that pain is necessary to all of us. In my own life, I think I can honestly say that out of the deepest pain has come the strongest conviction of the presence of God and the love of God.”
Like Jesus, we can also learn things through suffering. We can learn that “what we suffer now is nothing compared to the glory he will reveal to us later.”[5]
[1] Timothy Keller, Walking With God Through Pain and Suffering, (Penguin Books 2013), 3. [2] Tyndale House Publishers, Holy Bible: New Living Translation (Carol Stream, IL: Tyndale House Publishers, 2015), Lk 13:1–5. [3] Tyndale House Publishers, Holy Bible: New Living Translation (Carol Stream, IL: Tyndale House Publishers, 2015), Hab 1:2–3. [4] Tyndale House Publishers, Holy Bible: New Living Translation (Carol Stream, IL: Tyndale House Publishers, 2015), 1 Pe 4:12–13. [5] Tyndale House Publishers, Holy Bible: New Living Translation (Carol Stream, IL: Tyndale House Publishers, 2015), Ro 8:18.
