A Theology of Suffering

Throughout biblical history, from Joseph’s unjust imprisonment through the scorn thrown at the prophets to the disciple’s persecution and Paul’s constant beatings and mockery, suffering has been an important part of the life of a God-follower.  “There is no growth without suffering,” say most of our deepest thinkers.  And our experience plays this out as well.

I’ve been struck throughout my ministry that the least educated yet most powerful speakers at most gatherings are those who have come through some great suffering.  Whether Middle Eastern pastors who have been jailed and tortured for their faith, or Rwandan woman who hid from the genocide while their family was slaughtered, or a youth worker preaching to gang members only to see his friends murdered again and again, our wisest minds are often such because of the suffering they have endured.

Yet we as a culture run from suffering in even the smallest amount.  We flee restaurants that don’t get our orders Just Right.  We accumulate wealth at huge relational cost so we will never have to go without for any reason.  We seek out pleasure after pleasure hoping it will smother any feeling of suffering we might have.  And in the midst of this comfort/pleasure/abundance culture we find that we simply cannot grow wiser.  “I find that those who have not gone through suffering are mere babies in the faith, regardless of the age,” muses Richard Rohr.  “And our elderly are seldom Elders because of it.”

While only the insane seek out suffering, the wise do not flee it but allow it to do it’s work in us.  We are taught by it, grow through it, and reflect back on it when it passes.  To “escape” suffering only leads to immaturity.  Can we embrace it, endure it, and grow through it and from it, and become wise in the process?

“Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die.”

This little phrase was the founding principle of the Epicureans, a philosophy whose principle value was the enjoyment of all life had to offer, especially in the realm of food and drink.  It is quoted a few different times in scripture to speak of a valueless life, a pointless life, a temporary life.  In today’s reading, its a life without a belief in the resurrection.  If there is nothing beyond this life, the argument goes, then you might as well make the most of the little time you have, pointless as it is.

But this phrase has also become a founding principle for many in the world today.  While we proclaim a belief in Jesus and therefore a hope for a life after our death, our practical, everyday life fits this phrase better than Jesus’ call to self-denial.  We eat what will taste best, unless it is too fattening at which point we shun it so we can stretch this life out as long as possible.  Why?  Because we don’t really believe in an afterlife at all.

Think about how often you make decisions based on your own pleasure?  From what to eat, to what to do in your spare time, to your accumulation of wealth, we are far too quick to chase this world’s pleasures.

As followers of Christ, this should not be a consideration for us.  We should be sacrificially loving others, giving up what we have for those who have nothing, and seeking the greater good rather than our own pleasure.  We need to do better at living as Christians in our practice as well as our proclamation.