Hebrews 12:1-3

            Jesus is the author and perfecter of our faith, “who for the joy set before him endured the cross, despising its shame.”  Our Lord experienced the ultimate in suffering and shame; the cross was painful physically, mentally, and spiritually.  It was awful.  Yet, there was joy set before him.  This does not mean Jesus relished in the pain; rather, he clearly understood what his suffering would accomplish: the saving of many lives.
 
            Trying to make sense of this great sacrifice on our behalf can be mind-blowing.  No earthly illustration or word-picture can begin to adequately capture the idea.  However, perhaps what we can understand is undergoing the necessary discipline, effort, and pain in order to accomplish a goal.  Back in the day, I was a cross country runner (back far enough for Sherman to set the way-back machine).  When I was running I would sometimes get that super nasty pain in my side while running.  It is called a side cramp, or side stitch.  If you have never experienced it, the pain feels like an intense stabbing, as if someone were taking a knife and twisting it inside you.  There is really only one thing to do when this occurs:  keep running through the pain and it will subside in a few minutes; to stop running only exacerbates and prolongs the hurt, not to mention losing if it occurs during a race.
 
            Jesus faced the cross knowing that he was going to experience terrible excruciating pain.  He also knew that not facing the shame of it all and avoiding the agony would only make things worse and not take care of the problem.  Jesus endured all the foulness and degradation of the cross for you and me.  The pain was worth it to him.  He did not circumvent it, but embraced it so that the result would be people’s deliverance from sin, death, and hell.  The end game of his redemptive work was joy over deposing the ruler of this dark world.
 
            Suffering often does not fit into our equation of the Christian life; but it should.  Since Jesus bled and died for us, it is our privilege to follow him along the way of suffering.  Holy Week is a time to reflect and remember on such a great sacrifice, and to consider our Christian lives in the face of such great love.
            Gracious Lord Jesus, I give you eternal thanks for your mercy toward me through the cross.  It is a small thing for me to follow you even it means great suffering on my part.  My life is yours.  Use it as you will, through the power of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

Job 4:1-21

            The Christian spiritual classic, The Dark Night of the Soul, was written nearly five hundred years ago by St. John of the Cross.  The basic gist of John’s observation is that God sometimes takes the Christian through dry times of hiding himself from the believer.  The pain of wondering where God is; having no answers to prayer; enduring uncaring and misdirected comments from well-meaning people; all these and more are inevitably part of the Christian spiritual experience.  The dark night of the soul is not to be confused with personal sinfulness.  Its origin is not in self, but God.  When one knows that personal integrity is intact, but trouble abounds, we need not immediately rush to the conclusion that something is wrong with us.  It may be the Spirit tossing us into a desert experience in order to test and approve our faith.
 
            Job’s “friend” Eliphaz offered one of those age-old arguments that bad things happen to bad people.  He asks:  “Who that was innocent ever perished?  Where were the upright cut off?”  His conclusion is: “those who plow iniquity reap the same.”  Certainly, Eliphaz thinks, Job cannot possibly go through such terrible suffering without having done something to anger God.
 
            Today the same notions still endure.  If I had a quarter for every time I heard comments like these I would be a rich man:  “he is poor because he is lazy;” “she has chronic health issues because God is punishing her;” “you are not healed because of your lack of faith;” “they did something evil to be in such trouble;” and on and on the wrong-headed statements continue, ad nauseum.
 
            The Apostle Peter understood how to view trouble in a healthy way:  “It is better to suffer for doing good, if that should be God’s will, than for doing evil.  For Christ also suffered once for sins, the righteous for the unrighteous, that he might bring us to God” (1 Peter 3:17-18).  Jesus suffered; so will the Christian.  There is a big picture that only God sees.  When we suffer, there is something going on behind the spiritual scene.  We must allow God to do his work and trust him for all things.
            Lord God, I entrust myself to you because you know what you are doing.  Thank you for the trials of life which humbles my heart to pray.  Do your work in me so that my faith is fortified for a lifetime of service in the church and the world, through Jesus Christ, my Lord.  Amen.

Job 19:23-27

          There must be suffering before glory.  This is a truth that is difficult to swallow.  Jesus plainly taught his disciples that he must suffer and die before being raised from the dead and glorified.  We follow the same pattern:  suffering before glory.  There cannot be resurrection, new life, and glorious change without first dying to self, becoming a humble servant, and being last not first.
Job is one of the more familiar characters of the Bible.  He suffered like no person before him or since him.  Yet, his glory is like none other, as well.  In the middle of his agony, in the darkness of not understanding what was happening to him, and at the lowest point of his life there was the faintest but clearest glimmer of hope.  Job knew that his Redeemer lives.  Job had the confident expectation that his suffering meant something.  Job held out not a wishful thinking, but a settled hope that he would someday see God and that he would be redeemed from his torment.
As Christians, we may not understand everything about the Scriptures or theology.  Yet, we intuitively know in the shadowy recesses of our present sufferings that it will not always be this way.  We know that our Redeemer lives.  We know that there will be judgment.  We know whether our souls have genuine hope or whether they put up the pretense when asked, “How are you doing?”  “Fine” is the reply while we are dying inside. 
 
If the ancient response to suffering that Job expressed teaches us anything it is:  that we must be real about the raw emotional pain that is within us; and, that we must affirm the hope of redeeming deliverance and new life in order to remain patient and godly.
Suffering Savior, the One who took my place, thank you for dying on my behalf.  Help me through my present sufferings to see the hope of Easter.  Be gracious to me so that I might be gracious to others, even when I think so much of my own troubles.  Amen.

Suffering and Joy

Easter is not only one Sunday on the calendar, but is a season in the Christian Year spanning seven weeks, or fifty days, until Pentecost.  In the Easter season the church explores the theme of resurrection and new life in Jesus.  Our Lord Christ did not only die so that we might have forgiveness of sins; He also died so that we might live a new life with a clean slate to follow him daily.  God saves us and forgives us, regenerates us, in order that we will live a new life in Christ.  This regenerated life is not really a matter of making new resolutions or turning over a new leaf – it is a faith response to the grace of God displayed in Christ by dying on the cross and rising from the dead for us.
 
            One of my all-time favorite stories is Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables.  It is primarily a story of grace and new life.  The main character is Jean Valjean, who spends nineteen years in jail for stealing a loaf of bread for his starving family.  The experience in prison caused him to become a bitter man.  By the time he is released, he is hard and angry at life.  Since ex-convicts were not treated well in 19thcentury France, he had nowhere to go.  In desperation he seeks lodging one night at the home of a Catholic bishop, who treats him with genuine kindness, which Valjean sees only as an opportunity to exploit.  In the middle of the night he steals the bishop’s silver, but is caught by the police.  When they bring him back to the bishop’s house for identification, they are surprised when the bishop hands two silver candlesticks to Valjean, implying that he had given the stolen silver to him, and says, “You forgot these.”  After dismissing the police, the bishop turns to Jean Valjean and says, “I have bought your soul for God.”  In that moment, by the bishop’s act of mercy, Valjean’s bitterness is broken.
 
 
 
            But that is only a small part of the story; his forgiveness is the beginning of a new life.  The bulk of Victor Hugo’s novel demonstrates the utter power of a regenerated and redeemed life.  Jean Valjean chooses the way of mercy, as the bishop had done.  Valjean raises an orphan, spares the life of a parole officer who spent fifteen years hunting him, and saves his future son-in-law from death, even though it nearly cost him his own life.  There are trials and temptations for Valjean all along the way, but what keeps him pursuing his new life is mercy.  Whereas before being shown mercy Valjean responded with a brooding melancholy and inner anger.  Now, after being shown grace, Valjean responds to each case of unjust suffering with both mercy and joy, deeply thankful for the chance to live a new life full of grace.
 
            Suffering and joy.  They seem to be opposed to each other.  And, if we conform to this world’s thinking, they are taken as opposites.  Only Christianity has the worldview perspective that sees suffering as an occasion for joy, and not just senseless, random, and empty grief.  Followers of Jesus imitate their Savior in going in the way of suffering.  We are told in Scripture that these sufferings are trials to our faith, that is, they are the means by which our faith is developed, used, and strengthened.  Just as gold is refined by being put through fire, so our faith is refined and proven genuine through the purging fires of life’s trials and troubles.  Walking in the way of our Lord Jesus, adversity is our teacher, helping us to know Christ better and appreciate the great salvation we possess in Jesus (1 Peter 1:3-9).
 
            The most miserable people I know are those who do not know grace, have not been taught by mercy, and, therefore, do not know the joy of extending grace and mercy to others.  There is a tendency for many Christians today towards being stoic through the trials of life.  We try and keep a stiff upper lip and simply endure.  Taking the approach of “It is what it is” only works for so long.  Eventually “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me” is a more appropriate response to trouble. But it is precisely during those times when human hope fades that we rejoice, even though the rejoicing is through tears, in the living hope that is kept for us and not by us. This spiritual inheritance of hope is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading. That means we can live through a difficult day or week or month or even, dear God, a year or longer, and not add to the weight of our troubles by blaming the failure of faith.   
        
            Our goal in this life is not to escape the world because at the end of time when our salvation is completely consummated, heaven comes down to earth and both are joined together.  “Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea.  I saw the Holy City, the New Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband.  And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, ‘Now the dwelling of god is with men, and he will live with them.  They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God.  He will wipe every tear from their eyes.  There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away” (Revelation 21:1-4).  This is our inheritance in Christ.  But we must come prepared for this encounter with God by presently undergoing grief in all kinds of sufferings; these trials to our faith are the pre-marital sessions that prepare us for our marriage with Jesus.
 

 

            Eventually, suffering will have done its work and we will be with Christ forever.  Until that day, however, let us not hunker down and stay in the garage of life.  Let us explore the open road that God has for us, embracing both the meaning and the mystery of faith.  Let us live with confidence and run the race marked out for us.  Let us not be complacent or slow in doing the will of God, but work for God’s kingdom purposes on this earth, in this age, while it is still called Today.  And let us allow the trials of this age to do their work in us, responding to them with joy knowing that our faith is being strengthened for the benefit of loving the world.  Even so, come Lord Jesus.