The Mystery of Suffering
“What’s
the point of suffering?”
Three times the Apostle Paul
pleaded with the Lord to take a thorn away from him. But Jesus said to him, “My
grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” (2 Cor
12:9) Since then, Paul rejoiced in his weaknesses and sufferings. This was the
Verse of the Day from the Upper Room last Friday. And the Question of
the Day was “What’s the point of suffering?” Some of the church family members shared
their thoughts this way:
§ “In suffering I draw nearer to God.” – Jo-Ann Barton
§ “To experience life in an imperfect world as we relate to the presence of the ultimate good GOD.” – Linda Maraya
§ “In my suffering, I'm reminded of Jesus' suffering on the cross, to His death, carrying the weight of OUR sins, that we may LIVE WITH HIM, in eternal rest, forever.” – Liz Taylor
§ “Suffering draws us closer to God and increases our faith in that we trust God and know that He loves us and makes all things work for good.” – Angela Cowperthwaite
In Psalm 119 David says, “Before I suffered, I did wrong, but now I obey the word” (v. 67 NCV). He continues, “My suffering was good for me, for it taught me to pay attention to your decrees” (v. 71, NLT). C. S. Lewis rightly said, “God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains; it is his megaphone to rouse a deaf world.” Indeed, suffering draws us closer to God.
Lifegiving Suffering
There is another benefit of Christian
suffering. It is to draw others closer to God. Paul says in Romans
5:3-4, “We also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that sufferings
produce perseverance; perseverance, character, and character, hope.” This hope
is contagious. This hope draws people closer to God.
In today’s story we see one father’s long suffering for his two sons. We see that this father’s suffering does produce perseverance, then character, then hope. This prodigal father has undying hope to see both of his sons return to his bosom and sit around the same table together. Every morning, when the father starts a day, he prays for his sons, crying tenderly and blessing them. His heart goes out to them. He endures heart-aching pain every single day. The pain is always there. Every night he prays and sleeps in hope.
The rebellious younger son knows his father – how compassionate and merciful his father is. So when he comes to his senses, he says to himself, “How many of my father’s hired servants have more than enough bread… I will go home to my father and ask for his forgiveness.” The resentful elder son also knows his father – how loving and forgiving his father is. Although he is eaten up with jealousy, he acknowledges his father’s prodigal generosity, saying, “You killed the fattened calf for your son who has devoured your property with prostitutes.”
This story is left open-ended. It ends with the invitation. The choice is the son’s. But we know the father’s love compels his sons. The father’s long suffering stirs their hearts.
The Fragrance of Christ
Has your heart been stirred and
drawn to God by someone else’s suffering – to be more accurate, by his or her
response to suffering? Recently, I read Eric Liddell’s biography, For the
Glory, written by Duncan Hamilton. Many people remember Eric Liddell as an Olympic champion and missionary to China. But not many know much about his
sufferings in his final years. Not only was he imprisoned by the Japanese in an Internment Camp in China, but also he greatly suffered from a brain tumor. He
suffered from excruciating headache, perpetual tiredness, memory loss, weight
loss, stroke, and depression.
But in the midst of his suffering Liddell is always doing something for others. He chops wood, he cooks in the kitchens, he cleans and sweeps, he teaches science to the children, he counsels the teenagers, he helps the old and the weak. Every Sunday he preaches. Even when he was admitted to the hospital, he was still teaching and discipling. Then he suffered a third stroke and died. His last word was “surrender.” Indeed, he lived a life of surrender, humility, and love. One internee said, “He had a calming and very stable influence. He was always so positive.” Another said, “He was smiling to the end.” Another said, “In his presence I felt it was impossible to speak or do anything less than the best, the purest, the noblest.”
Liddell once said, “We are all missionaries. Wherever we go we either bring people nearer to Christ or we repel them from Christ.” The people close to Liddell clearly saw how he responded to his suffering. They could smell the fragrance of Christ when he suffered. They were inspired and drawn to Christ.
Becoming the Father
Oswald Chambers said, “The whole
secret of shepherding is that someone else reaches the Savior through your
heart as a pathway.” Similarly, the secret of suffering is that someone
draws closer to God through our suffering as a pathway.
Like the prodigal father in today’s story, perhaps you may have wayward children, waiting and praying for them. I know one pastor is in transition to a new appointment after serving the same church for 38 years because of what’s happening in the UMC. For me personally, I have deep sorrow and unceasing grief in my heart. My heart goes out to those who have left the church and become church homeless. My heart aches. The pains and memories keep coming back. Once we used to share meals together, did a Bible study together, did ministries together. We were family, then they cut ties with the church and me.
Though it’s painful, through this grieving process and suffering, I am learning to become the father. I believe the ultimate goal of our Christian journey is becoming the compassionate father. Once we were all lost – we were either the rebellious younger son or the resentful ender son, or both. We were dependent, demanding children. But we are called to grow and become the father who begets life and raise spiritual children with love and compassion. “Be compassionate just as your Father is compassionate,” Jesus said. (Luke 6:36)
“When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became an adult [the father], I put childish ways behind me.” (1 Cor 13:11) The compassionate father believes the best about his children. He is full of hope, full of patient endurance. Through our suffering, may we draw closer to God. May we draw our people closer to God. In suffering, may we get better, not bitter. May we be the sweet aroma of Christ. Amen.
