St. Anthony
Have you ever felt pulled in
all directions – by life’s demands, distractions, or temptations? Let’s
take a look at this artwork by Martin Schongauer, Saint Anthony Abbot
Tempted by Demons (c. 1470-1480). St. Anthony was a Christian monk
from Egypt in the 3rd century. At eighteen, he inherited his
family’s wealth, but he gave it all away to the poor. He became a humble,
devoted, well-respected monk, living in the desert. But then, he was severely
tormented by temptations. His biographer, Athanasius, writes that Satan sent
subordinate demons to attack Anthony when he was 34 years old. Athanasius
describes the later stages of the devil’s temptation as a physical attack by
demons masquerading as wild animals: “Anthony, beaten and mauled, experienced
even more atrocious pains in his body but he remained unafraid, his mind
alert.” At the end, the weary Anthony cries out to the Lord, “Where were you,
good Jesus? Where were you? Why were you not here from the beginning to heal my
wounds?” A voice answers, “Anthony, I was here, but I was waiting to watch your
struggle.”[1] Like Anthony, we are not
immune to life’s temptations. And like Anthony, we may ask, “Where were you,
God? Why didn’t you help me from the beginning?”
Paul in Danger
Paul, in Today’s scripture,
wrestles with the same questions. He was a faithful servant of Christ, but he
was not immune to life’s hardships. He was imprisoned, flogged, beaten,
shipwrecked, stoned. He faced danger from robbers, enemies, his own people, the
wilderness, and the sea. On top of this, he carried the daily pressures and
anxieties of all the churches. And then there was the “thorn in his body,” a
messenger from Satan that caused him ongoing physical agony. Paul was in constant
suffering. Then, where was God in all this? Why didn’t He come and help
right away?
Crucifixion
The answer is God did
come and help in Jesus. In Psalm 22, David prophesies what would happen to
God’s Messiah. Christ would cry out, “My God! My God, why have you forsaken
me?” His enemies surrounded him like mighty bulls. They attacked like young
lions, ripping and roaring. Like wild dogs, a pack of evil people
circled him, tormenting him again and again. Jesus was mocked and taunted, like
Anthony, like Paul. But this suffering was God’s plan for the Christ. (cf.
Isaiah 53:10)
So what was the point of
Christ’s suffering and the cross? Think of it like a battle: Jesus entered
the enemy’s stronghold and destroyed it. Through his death on the cross, he
defeated the powers of sin, evil, and death – once for all. Colossians 2:15
says, “He disarmed the spiritual rulers and authorities. He shamed
them publicly by his victory over them on the cross.” (NLT) Through his
suffering, Jesus set free all of us who were enslaved by the fear of dying.
(Hebrews 2:15)
I keep Matthias Grünewald’s
painting Crucifixion on my desk wall and the front page of my Bible
as a constant reminder. It was painted for a hospital, for people
dying from a terrible plague called ergotism. – a disease that caused painful
seizures, violent spasms, constant diarrhea, relentless vomiting, and agonizing
deaths, with their bodies twisted and broken. Perhaps they cried out, “Where
were you, God? Why didn’t you help me?” In this painting, the Christ is
depicted as stricken with the same suffering. His limbs are distorted
and twisted. The artist wanted those suffering to see: Jesus suffers with
you, and Jesus suffers for you. To Christ’s left, John the Baptist stands,
pointing to the crucified Christ, saying, “Look, here is the One.” And at
John’s feet stands a lamb carrying a cross—an echo of John’s own words: “Behold
the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world.”[2] This is the good
news. Jesus entered into our deepest pain, bore our suffering, and made it his
own. Through his suffering, we are made whole.
Making Sense of Suffering
Now we understand the
purpose of Christ’s suffering. But how about our suffering? What’s the point? Paul
answers in Colossians 1:24: “Now I’m happy to be suffering for you. I’m
completing what is missing from Christ’s sufferings with my own body. I’m doing
this for the sake of his body, which is the church.” (CEB) Here, Paul is not
saying that Christ’s suffering was incomplete. Jesus’ death on the cross is
fully sufficient for our salvation. Paul means that our suffering has
purpose. God can use our struggles to advance the gospel, encourage others, and
build the church. Paul once saw his weaknesses and hardships as obstacles,
even clouds over God’s glory. So he pleaded with the Lord to remove the thorn.
But Jesus replied, “My grace is sufficient for you, because my power is made
perfect in weakness.” Then Paul realized that God’s glory is revealed not
through impressive preaching, wonders and miracles, but through weakness,
hardship, and endurance. People are drawn to Christ when they see someone who
rejoices in suffering and forgives enemies, by the supernature power of God. Through
our trials, people can taste and see the love of the cross.
During the Nazi occupation
of Holland, Corrie Ten Boom was arrested for hiding Jews in her home and sent
to a concentration camp. After the World War II, God sent her
to Germany to proclaim the message of God’s forgiveness. One day
after the service, a man approached her. Intuitively, she recognized him. He
was a guard who tormented her and her sister at the concentration camp. That
man extended his hand and said, “A fine message! How good it is to know that,
as you say, all our sins are at the bottom of the sea!” Corrie writes: “My
blood seemed to freeze… It could not have been many seconds that he stood
there—hand held out—but to me it seemed hours as I wrestled with the most
difficult thing I had ever had to do.” She knew what she had to do. But she
could not. So she prayed silently, “Lord, help! I can lift my hand. I can do
that much. You supply the feeling.” And then mechanically, Corrie held out her
hand. Then an incredible thing happened. Surpassing forgiving love of God just
flooded her whole being, bringing tears to her eyes. And she cried out, “I
forgive you, brother, with all my heart!” Corrie concludes her story as
follows: “For a long moment we grasped each other’s hands, the former guard and
the former prisoner. I had never known God’s love so intensely, as I did then.”
Greater
I also remember an older
brother’s eulogy for his younger brother, a promising football player
tragically killed by a car accident. He said, “Our loss is great, but God is
greater.” Likewise, our suffering today can be real and heavy, but God’s
grace is always greater.”
Even in her eighties,
Corrie Ten Boom faced suffering. She had a major stroke, became bedridden and
mute, and needed help for the simplest tasks. Yet one day, she surprised her
caregiver by saying “Blij”—“Happy, joyful.” On her ninety-first
birthday, April 15, 1983, she peacefully passed into the Lord’s presence.[3]
Our suffering has purpose.
Christ’s power is made perfect in our weakness. My prayer is that through our trials,
Christ’s love will be revealed, His people encouraged, and His church
strengthened. And in all things, may His grace be greater than our weakness.
Amen.
[1] Heid J. Hornik,
The Art of Christian Reflection (Baylor University Press: Waco, Texas,
2018), 67-9.
[2] Christian
Century, Art selection and commentary by Heidi J. Hornik and Mikeal C. Parsons.
(January 4, 2017)
[3] Kenneth Boa and
Jenny Abel, Recalibrate Your Life, InterVarsity Press. Kindle Edition.
69.
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