Notes on Suffering

Thanksgiving is the key to the enjoyment of any gift. Thanksgiving is the key that unlocks joy. Thanksgiving in all circumstances, especially in the midst of suffering, is crucial.

When we are suffering, the great temptation is to think God isn’t good, meaning he isn’t generous, he doesn’t love us, he doesn’t have our best interests in view. This is how Satan tempted Adam and Eve in the Garden; would they trust God loved them even as he withheld something good from them? This was also Job’s great test; would he cling to the goodness of God even when all experiential evidence of his goodness was lacking? Thanksgiving is a way of recognizing God’s goodness even in the midst of hardship. Satan wants us to believe God is miserly, stingy, and hates us. We have to resist those lies. Thanksgiving is proof we are clinging to the truth about who God is, and thanksgiving always produces both joy and enjoyment. When we are thankful, we can be content in any circumstances.

This is why the Eucharist is so important – at the Last Supper, Jesus gave two prayers of thanksgiving, one over the bread, another over the wine, in order to reprogram us into gratitude. Adam ate without giving thanks; we double up the thanksgiving at the Lord’s table to train us in this virtue. And we should remember, Jesus offered these prayers of thanks over the signs of his body and blood – a body that would soon crucified and blood that would be shed the next day. He gave thanks in the midst of suffering, setting us an example of how to suffer well.

Suffering comes in many forms. One form of suffering is deprivation – we are deprived of some of God’s gifts. We may be deprived of health, wealth, feasting, friendship, marriage, children, etc. But in the midst of such deprivations, it is crucial to remember that these gifts are indeed good even if we miss out on them. We may not enjoy these gifts ourselves, but we can be happy for those who do get to enjoy them.

We cannot adjust our theology to fit our experience; we must interpret our experience through the lens of our theology.

I have seen women who did not get married become feminists and start to argue that marriage is an oppressive institution, that no one should get married, etc. They’re not married – so no one should get married. Of course, men who are deprived of marriage can become bitter in their own way. I’ve seen barren women get angry when another baby shower in the community is announced. They are embittered by the fact that others get a blessing they have been deprived of. I’ve seen people who have never really succeeded financially decide that all rich people are evil, wealth is always corrupting, etc. This is just envy.

There are immature and destructive ways of trying to cope with loss or deprivation. It’s a sinful strategy for dealing with real pain. Instead of taking that pain to God and giving it to him, it becomes a source of bitterness.

If you are deprived of some gift – a real form of suffering – you have to stay committed to the truth that all those things really are still good gifts and rejoice in the blessings others receive. Enter into the joy of others as much as possible. Be happy for them. Don’t envy them – thank God for what they get to experience, even if you are deprived.

If you are sick, especially with something chronic, one of the best things you can do is thank God for the health and strength of those around you – just like a single person can learn to thank God for others’ happy marriages and a barren couple can learn to be thankful for all the little children running around at church gatherings. Thanksgiving reminds us we are not in competition with others. We are part of a shared kingdom, a body, and thus we all share in the blessings of the other members of the body, even as we in some way share in the sufferings of others.

The temptation of the sufferer is always to curve in upon himself – to think his suffering is somehow unique. Anyone who suffers faces the temptation to become a narcissist, to think their own suffering is special. Only one person can say, “No one has ever suffered like me,” and he died on a cross 2000 years ago.

What keeps us from getting curved in ourselves in the midst of suffering is remembering, and clinging tightly, to the truth that our trials are assigned by God for our good. But trials only do good in our lives when we respond to them in the proper way, with faith, fear of God, and thanksgiving. When we do not mix trials with faith, trials make us angry, bitter, and envious. When we respond to trials with faith, we can count them as joy, as James 1 says.

It’s important to understand that suffering does not automatically sanctify. We hear, “Hard times make good men” – but this is not an axiom. Sometimes suffering makes people worse. Suffering only makes us better when we trust and thank God in the midst of the suffering.

Suffering can either harden our hearts or soften them, depending on how we respond. When suffering persists over a long time, it can be very difficult to keep trusting God. But that’s what we are called to do. And as we do so, trials change us for the better, bringing us to maturity.

The suffer must resist feeling sorry for himself. We are not justified by our suffering. Being a victim does not make us righteous. We are justified by faith in the suffering of Jesus on our behalf. But suffering can have a sanctifying effect on us when we suffer in faith. God has designed our lives like an obsctacle course. The trials we have to run through are part of his plan to mature and strengthen his people. Our trials are a curriculcum; we get a passing grade by continuing to trust in God and rest in his goodness no matter how bad life gets.

I have seen people suffer with terminal cancer and get progressively more spiteful, angry, despondent, bitter, and hopeless. I have seen others suffer with terminal cancer and become so full love and joy, it’s as if they glowed and radiated, even as they were physically wasting away. The difference is the faith and gratitude (or lack thereof) in the sufferer. It’s up to each of us to decide what to do with our trials. But the results of the choice we make become evident over time. Suffering in unbelief embitters; suffering in faith produces a joy unspeakable and peace that surpasses understanding.

Or, to give yet another way to think about it, the same trial can be experienced as a Satanic temptation, or a God-given test. The same experience can be viewed from two different perspectives. All trials are fire, but what kind of fire? Satan is an arsonist trying to burn you to the ground with hellfire. God is a goldsmith, using fiery trials to burn away your dross so the remaining pure gold can be fashioned into a crown. Satan hates you and tempts you in hard times as a way to destroy you; God hates the dross and wants to burn it off because he loves you and wants to glorify you. Or, as Augustine put it: “When you are put into the furnace of affliction, will you come forth as gold or grass?”