Tag: pain

Delivery and Deliverance (Isaiah 66:7-11)

On By Tim EhrhardtIn Christian Spirituality Blog, Daily Bible Reading Blog, Year CLeave a comment

Before she was in labor
    she gave birth;
before her pain came upon her
    she delivered a son.
Who has heard of such a thing?
    Who has seen such things?
Shall a land be born in one day?
    Shall a nation be delivered in one moment?
Yet as soon as Zion was in labor
    she delivered her children.
Shall I open the womb and not deliver?
    says the Lord;
shall I, the one who delivers, shut the womb?
    says your God.

Rejoice with Jerusalem, and be glad for her,
    all you who love her;
rejoice with her in joy,
    all you who mourn over her—
that you may nurse and be satisfied
    from her consoling breast,
that you may drink deeply with delight
    from her glorious bosom. (New Revised Standard Version)

Conception. Happiness. Wondering. Uncomfortable. Preparation. Pain. More pain. Delivery. Exhaustion. Joy. Celebration. New life. Bringing children into this world is a process. And its hard work.

Feeding. Pooping. Sleeping. Exhaustion. More feeding. Lots more pooping. Thank God, more sleeping. Still exhausted. So, when does the mother ever get to eat, go to the bathroom by herself, and sleep? Maybe tomorrow, or maybe in another life….

Despite all of this, there are still words which keep mothers (and fathers) going: Satisfaction. Delight. Awe. Praise. Love. Hope. Faith. Yes, faith. Lots of faith. So much faith that it’s as if the parent puts all their weight on it, and leans into it, perhaps more out of sheer necessity than anything else.

The Christian season of Advent has been growing over the past weeks. It is now large and very ready for Christmas Day and the celebration of the Christmas season (the 12 days from December 25 to the Day of Epiphany on January 6).

But we aren’t quite there yet. There is still the anticipation of birth. The Christ child is coming.

It’s quite something to imagine that God would be so humble as to become humiliated. What a wonder it is, that there is such a thing as an incarnation, that Jesus entered this world as both a human baby and a divine king.

God came to this world for us, on our behalf, to redeem, renew, and restore lost humanity. That’s a lot of love. If you think about it, the mother’s incredible love had to come from somewhere.

Love is what sustains the world. So, love must be nurtured. The feelings of it are not always there within us.

Yet, if we will continually seek to maintain the godliness which is love inside of us, we can find ourselves being little incarnations of Jesus walking about this earth providing succor, without any withholding or hatred.

To love is to love. Without conditions. To love a friend but hate an enemy is to cancel out the love. It must be all love, or it isn’t love, at all.

The person, group, organization, institution, community, or church in a miserable and wretched state is in need of restoration. That is, they are in a great need of receiving love and giving love.

If they have responsibilities toward others, and have been neglectful, they must come to the breast of God. And those who did not receive their due justice and fair recompense must also come.

Advent is more than a season in the year to recognize. And Christ’s incarnation is much more than a doctrine to believe. Advent and incarnation are powerful realities which we must live into.

The good news of this season is that God intervenes effectively to do good for those who are faithful. It’s a newness as sudden and as wonderful as the birth of a baby. The Lord does away with barrenness and hopelessness, and brings new life.

It is this good news that brings out joy. Where once there was mourning and sadness, there is now satisfaction, comfort, and consolation. God is the One who brings it about.

Therefore, it is helpful to remember and recall the words of Jesus to his disciples:

Very truly, I tell you, you will weep and mourn, but the world will rejoice; you will have pain, but your pain will turn into joy. When a woman is in labor, she has pain because her hour has come. But when her child is born, she no longer remembers the anguish because of the joy of having brought a human being into the world. So you have pain now, but I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you. (John 16:20-22, NRSV)

The joy and celebration of this first advent will lead to a second advent, the return of Christ. The peace and satisfaction we may enjoy now is only here in part. The fullness of peace will be ushered in at the end of time.

This is the sort of tension that we must continually maintain, holding together in both hands our sorrow and joy, disappointment and hope, hardship and love, at the same time, all the time, until that day when there is not only a delivery, but a deliverance from all evil.

Lord God, we adore you because you have come to us in the past.
You have spoken to us in the Law of Israel.
You have challenged us in the words of the prophets.
You have shown us in Jesus what you are really like.

Lord God, we adore you because you still come to us now.
You come to us through other people and their love and concern for us.
You come to us through people who need our help.
You come to us as we worship you with others.

Lord God, we adore you because you will come to us at the end.
You will be with us at the hour of death.
You will still reign supreme when all human institutions fail.
You will still be God when our history has run its course.

We welcome you, the God who comes.
Come to us now in the power of Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

An Advent Message of Suffering and Deliverance (Micah 4:8-13)

On By Tim EhrhardtIn Christian Spirituality Blog, Daily Bible Reading Blog, Year CLeave a comment
The Prophet Micah Exhorts the Israelites, by Gustave Doré, 1866

As for you, Jerusalem,
    the citadel of God’s people,
your royal might and power
    will come back to you again.
The kingship will be restored
    to my precious Jerusalem.

But why are you now screaming in terror?
    Have you no king to lead you?
Have your wise people all died?
    Pain has gripped you like a woman in childbirth.
Writhe and groan like a woman in labor,
    you people of Jerusalem,
for now you must leave this city
    to live in the open country.
You will soon be sent in exile
    to distant Babylon.
But the Lord will rescue you there;
    he will redeem you from the grip of your enemies.

Now many nations have gathered against you.
    “Let her be desecrated,” they say.
    “Let us see the destruction of Jerusalem.”
But they do not know the Lord’s thoughts
    or understand his plan.
These nations don’t know
    that he is gathering them together
to be beaten and trampled
    like sheaves of grain on a threshing floor.
“Rise up and crush the nations, O Jerusalem!”
    says the Lord.
“For I will give you iron horns and bronze hooves,
    so you can trample many nations to pieces.
You will present their stolen riches to the Lord,
    their wealth to the Lord of all the earth.” (New Living Translation)

A lot of people don’t understand much about the Bible, especially many parts of what some call the Old or First Testament of it. It seems to them like it’s all either nonsense or gobbledygook.

I am not exaggerating when I say that I have read the entire Bible not once, but hundreds of times. And there are still many places within Holy Scripture which are an enigma to me.

Part of the reason the Bible can seem so difficult is that, at times, the perspective being written about is so expansive, so large, and so wide that it nearly defies human comprehension.

The Bible reveals a God who is so transcendent that the Lord is able to see the past, the present, and the future all at once, because God is actually above everything, including time.

None of this talk on my part is meant to discourage anyone from reading scripture. Rather, it’s meant to encourage you to keep on reading it, listening to it, talking about it, and exploring its contents.

Instead of a being an impossible puzzle we cannot put together, the Bible is, instead, a deep treasure trove of knowledge, wisdom, and insight into the human condition and the human purpose for being on this earth.

The reason the biblical prophets came along – and included into the canon of Holy Scripture – is that they called people back to their original purpose for being here in the first place.

In every prophetic book, the culture, the society, the religion, and the politics of a people had strayed so far from their reason for existing, that it took what seems to us as extreme language in order to get them back on track.

There were some cases so bad that the prophet’s message to people was inevitable doom. And yet, even then, there was a nugget of grace, showing us that no matter how terrible things may get, the arm of God is not too short to pull the faithful from the brink of annihilation.

Examining the Book of Micah, there is nothing easy about it. The prophet wrote at a time when Assyrian power was dominate, and about to swallow up the northern kingdom of Israel. Yet, he spoke directly to Jerusalem in the southern kingdom of Judah.

Much like a woman in labor and about to give birth, Jerusalem’s cry of suffering will be transformed into a cry of deliverance and freedom.

But we aren’t talking about something that will happen in a few days or even a few years; the prophet was giving the people a panoramic sweep of centuries.

Eventually, the Babylonians come, take the people out of the city into exile to Babylon. It is a cry of pain. Micah was speaking about events which would not occur for another two hundred years.

Yet, at the same time, Micah was talking about his own present generation of people in Israel and Judah. What the people were doing, at that time, was leading to a future of great pain. And there would be a great crying out for salvation from it.

Injustice always creates a state of distress for some, while the ones perpetrating the unjust ways become wealthy on the backs of others who are miserable.

Babylon represented both the place of punishment and of liberation. Out of the exilic darkness, a new age bursts into the light.

Born into a time where many people were longing for God’s deliverance, centuries after the destruction of Jerusalem, after the exile and return to Judea, and after the days of the Maccabees, Jesus subversively entered human history.

Despite all of the human sin, the degradation and oppression of others, the injustice and abuse extant in the world, grace comes in the shape of a baby; mercy enters the world in the form of a child.

The God whom all things depend upon, became dependent, needing a mother to clean him up after a filled first-century diaper. Few people knew at the time that this little baby would be the one to clean up a massive spiritual and metaphorical diaper, full of the world’s nasty stinky injustice.

Presently, it is clear that the nations do not know they will be beaten and trampled – that all who are now in power will be answering to that subversive child born two millennia ago.

Each life may be a mere speck in the scope of history, and yet, at the same time, each life is precious enough to warrant attention from the One who stands above all time.

How you live makes a difference. How you are, matters.

God of both judgment and grace, we pray for all nations, that they may live in unity, peace, and concord; and that all people may know justice, and enjoy perfect freedom. Embrace the most vulnerable members of our society; end the growing disparity between the rich and poor; and grant us courage to strive for economic justice, so that all might know your mercy, and not your wrath. Amen.

Waiting with Hope (Romans 8:22-25)

On By Tim EhrhardtIn Christian Spirituality Blog, Daily Bible Reading Blog, Year BLeave a comment
Art depicting cracked earth, a dry riverbed, white plastic shapes, a lack of life and the red glow of fire. The figures are separated, lacking any real connection. By artist Chris De Hoog

For we know that all creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. And we believers also groan, even though we have the Holy Spirit within us as a foretaste of future glory, for we long for our bodies to be released from sin and suffering.

We, too, wait with eager hope for the day when God will give us our full rights as his adopted children, including the new bodies he has promised us. We were given this hope when we were saved. (If we already have something, we don’t need to hope for it. But if we look forward to something we don’t yet have, we must wait patiently and confidently.) (New Living Translation)

Salvation is not only personal; it’s also cosmic.

That is, freedom from the power of sin, death, and hell is not only for an individual person, but this deliverance is for all of creation, for the entire earth.

So then, all of creation – not just people – long for and groan for the advent of Christ. My oak tree in the backyard longs for it. My dog whines for it. When it rains, the sky is wondering how long it will have to keep up its tears.

Together with the entire cosmos, we look forward to the complete fulfillment of our inheritance as God’s creation, as God’s creatures.

Since that is true, it is Christians who need to see the privilege and responsibility of conducting ourselves with unity, harmony, and non-violence. We are to live this way because we are foreshadowing the end of the world’s story.

There is a day coming when there will be no more malevolent and selfish posturing for power and control. No more oppression and victimization. No more injustice.

And we have the chance to begin living that way now, and not only in a future time. We get to do this because of Christ.

But that doesn’t mean we don’t suffer anymore. Presently, along with all creation, we have pain like that of a woman in childbirth. This is no papercut inconvenient pain; this is “I hurt like hell” pain. That sort of pain has us awaiting the redemption of our bodies.

I work as a hospital chaplain. Every day, I see suffering, some of it unimaginable. I listen to stories of people longing for healing, and grasping at hope. And I hear plenty of groaning (both the actual physical groans, as well as the more quiet internal sighs and groans).

I say to you: The human body is not meant to be destroyed. Our physical selves are not destined for elimination. No, our bodies are meant to be redeemed; they are meant for salvation. It will not always be this way!

So, we hope.

The Christian has the confident expectation that not only is the soul redeemed, but the body, as well. We can enjoy spiritual salvation now. But we must wait for the physical deliverance. There must be patience on our part until Resurrection Day.

The Apostle Paul was calling on believers to hope. Five times he said it in only two verses. Paul was emphasizing the need for spiritual endurance because we have not yet arrived.

In case you haven’t noticed, we aren’t in heaven; this isn’t a renewed earth; people around the globe are not all presently singing kumbaya together.

Therefore, it is imperative that we live with the tension between the “now” and the “not yet.” It’s a weird existence, this Christian life. But, in reality, we exist in the paradox of being saved now, and not yet being saved.

Another way of putting this is that God’s adopted children have not yet received their inheritance.

But that doesn’t mean we’ve been left to ourselves. We have the first fruits of our salvation: the Holy Spirit.

We presently, right now, enjoy a real and significant portion of God’s freedom and deliverance. We have God’s gift of presence. There is the continuing presence of Jesus Christ with us, the blessed Holy Spirit.

And this divine presence is what today helps us to endure and hold onto hope. By holding this future hope, we learn to accept, cope, and transcend our circumstances through love.

Therefore, since we have been made right in God’s sight by faith, we have peace with God because of what Jesus Christ our Lord has done for us. Because of our faith, Christ has brought us into this place of undeserved privilege where we now stand, and we confidently and joyfully look forward to sharing God’s glory.

We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they help us develop endurance. And endurance develops strength of character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation. And this hope will not lead to disappointment. For we know how dearly God loves us, because he has given us the Holy Spirit to fill our hearts with his love. (Romans 5:1-5, NLT)

The very suffering which we so often try to avoid and get out of, becomes the means of connecting us with Christ and with others.

The problem becomes the answer.

The Spirit groans with our own spirit, and we all become connected together.

I point out, however, that not everyone wants this sort of connection. There are many people who want nothing to do with solidarity.

Some folks want to remain in their own little huddle or small world; and they take offense at anyone outside of their group who seeks to understand and connect with that group’s suffering.

Although everyone’s pain and suffering is unique – and no one can fully know another’s sorrow – that does not mean solidarity and connection are impossible, or undesirable.

I don’t need to have cancer in order to connect with a cancer patient. I don’t have to become victimized to show genuine empathy and extend competent comfort. Yet, sadly, some persons only want connection and consolation from a certain person or group.

But I say to that: Who are you to tell God whom God can love you through?

To suffer is one thing, because we all must suffer in some way. But to compound your suffering by your own volition is another thing altogether.

You deserve better than harming yourself through cutting off help.

It could be that today is the day you reach out to that person you know will be there for you. Or, perhaps now is the time to quite putting off making space for prayer and reflection.

Whatever it is that you need to do, it’s okay to do it, without putting it off until tomorrow.

Lord Jesus Christ, by your patience in suffering you hallowed earthly pain and gave us the example of obedience to your Father’s will: Be near me in my time of weakness and pain; and sustain me by your grace, so that my strength and courage may not fail. Heal me according to you will; and help me always to believe that whatever happens to me here is of little account if you hold me in eternal life. Amen.

Feeling the Pain (Job 23:1-9, 16-17)

On By Tim EhrhardtIn Christian Spirituality Blog, Daily Bible Reading Blog, Year BLeave a comment

Then Job answered:

“Today also my complaint is bitter;
    his hand is heavy despite my groaning.
Oh, that I knew where I might find him,
    that I might come even to his dwelling!
I would lay my case before him
    and fill my mouth with arguments.
I would learn what he would answer me
    and understand what he would say to me.
Would he contend with me in the greatness of his power?
    No, but he would give heed to me.
There the upright could reason with him,
    and I should be acquitted forever by my judge.

“If I go forward, he is not there;
    or backward, I cannot perceive him;
on the left he hides, and I cannot behold him;
    I turn to the right, but I cannot see him….

God has made my heart faint;
    the Almighty has terrified me.
If only I could vanish in darkness,
    and thick darkness would cover my face. (New Revised Standard Version)

Here is Job, sitting on an ash heap, of all things, and feeling like an ash. His children are gone, all killed by tragic circumstances. His wealth is no more. And now he is lamenting, because he can do nothing else; he has painful nasty sores covering his body that won’t let him do anything.

Job and his friends, by Ilya Repin (1844-1930)

And if that isn’t enough, Job’s “friends” come and end up giving him unhelpful speeches about how all this suffering is really his fault. They reasoned (wrongly) that there must be loads of sin in Job’s life for him to be going through such horror. God is punishing him, they insist.

Job’s companions had initially started out well. For seven days they sat with him in silence (Job 2:13). But then, after a week had passed, they just couldn’t take it anymore. They had the compulsion to speak. And when they opened their mouths, it was merely a bunch of ignorant gobbledygook.  

The friends, the companions, were themselves having an existential theological crisis. Their worldview was being challenged and threatened. So, rather than be open-minded and consider that their views may need to be altered, the friends acted like enemies, accusing Job of sin.

At issue was their clear and clean theology of believing that good guys are blessed with wealth, health, and happiness; and bad guys are cursed with poverty, illness, and misery – like Job.

They could not imagine or entertain the thought that God would let a good person suffer like Job was suffering. Therefore, Job must be bad, and they tried to find that hidden sin within him  to which he must repent of.

Yet, in truth, not all suffering – even terrible grinding suffering – is the result of personal sin or bad decision-making. Sometimes, good people suffer horribly, too.

Times may change, but people throughout the ages don’t. Today, we still think along the same lines as the companions of Job. There is far too much blaming of victims for their victimization; and way too many flippant beliefs which say to others in a terrible situation things like, “You reap what you sow.”

Job, through all of the loss, tragedy, and then suffering from his friends, held onto his integrity. Even though Job knew his situation was undeserved, he did not curse God, nor his friends.

Job made the incredible claim that suffering is not always the result of one’s personal sin – something he himself might not have said before his tragic experiences.

But just because Job did not curse, does not mean he was nice and okay with what unfolded in his life. He wished he was never born. He felt like death would be preferable to living. He contended with God, and longed for justice. His ultimate wish was that God would just speak and say something, anything.

Job was hurting so terribly, that he had bitter words of despair for God. He could make absolutely no sense of what was happening. He could not understand why he was the brunt of so much suffering. It felt like God was attacking him, and he said so.

The silence and absence of God were palpable for Job. He longed to speak with God. And his greatest lament – out of all the reasons to lament – was the horrible feeling of being alone without God’s presence and consolation.

It is interesting that we have no mention in the story about Job’s friends speaking directly to God, or praying to God, or addressing God in any way.

They certainly felt free to tell Job who God is, and how God operates in the world. But there was never any intercession for their friend, and no words of crying out to God on behalf of Job. There was only words of rebuke and chastisement, words of hurt that were as painful as the physical sores on his body

The phrase I hear most often from people speaking to the person in grief and pain is, “You just need to be strong.” And a close second is, “Everything happens for a reason.” The latter phrase is simply unhelpful, and the former phrase is actually hurtful.

It is not a sin to be weak. Just in case you read that sentence too quickly, I will say it again: It. Is. Not. A. Sin. To. Be. Weak!

We understand that when someone breaks a bone, they’ll be limited with weakness for a while. And we make helpful accommodations to that effect. But when someone’s heart is broken, and their life emotionally shredded, we expect them to be strong for everyone else around them.

It may be true that everything happens for a reason, yet most of the time, none of us knows the reason why we’re going through what we’re going through. And we probably won’t, this side of heaven.

If we try to have explanations for everything, then we join the company of Job’s companions who had to try and understand what was happening. And their conclusions were very wrong.

However, there is nothing wrong with weeping with those who weep; and expressing pain, grief, and even anger – both for the one who laments, and those who lament with them.

Pain cannot be relieved unless it is acknowledged, affirmed, and addressed by both the one who suffers and the community who surrounds them.

Where there is lament, there are loud words and expressions of grief. When lament is said to God, then God can hold that person, and rock them in the arms of mercy.

But silence is agonizing. We need friends who will listen and grieve with us. It is vital to have companions who voice to God what we cannot voice in our weakness. All of us, together, must hold onto God, and trust that the Lord hears, and will answer.

As Jesus cried out on the cross, I cry out to you in pain, O God my Creator. Do not forsake me. Grant me relief from this suffering and preserve me in peace; through Jesus Christ my Savior, in the power of the Holy Spirit. Amen.