There is a suffering that is evil. And there is also a suffering that is blessed.
So observes the Swedish novelist and Lutheran bishop Bo Giertz, whom I have been reading as part of my Lenten devotions. In the collection of his sermons, A Year of Grace, Vol. 1, translated by friend-of-this blog Bror Erickson, he preaches on Matthew 16:21-23 for the First Sunday in Lent. This is the account of Jesus telling his disciples that He soon must go to Jerusalem to suffer and die, whereupon Peter rebukes him and Jesus replies “Get behind me, Satan!”
Giertz says that “suffering in the world is something evil that shall be fought.” God’s Word makes it clear that we must work to alleviate people’s suffering. Jesus Himself cured the sick and fed the hungry. St. Paul raised an offering for the poor in Jerusalem. Christians are enjoined in Scripture to fight injustice of every kind.
“Where God’s will does not happen, there God’s creation is broken,” Giertz says. “That which should not happen, happens. And the conseuence is pain and tears, hunger and bitterness.”
But, Giertz says that “there is also a blessed suffering that brings something good with it.” Christ’s suffering is the supreme example. But sometimes our suffering is like that. We are called to suffer for others.
The thought that man shall escape suffering at any price, for himself and still more for those whom he loves, can be very similar to Peter’s thoughts: it stands in the way. It is something that hinders God’s goodwill from happening.
Therefore one should not always fear suffering, least of all suffering for being a Christian. There is a blessed suffering at Christ’s side, for love of Him. Paul calls it suffering for Christ, Christ’s afflictions. He says that such is for the benefit of others, for comfort and help and salvation. One can really suffer in blessing in the world. Many simple people who no one notices do this–people who have understood something of Christ’s mystery and who therefore suffer rather than fight, who return good for evil, who will not accuse or litigate, who do not dish back but rather take the risk of being vilified, pushed aside, or fleeced. Men who put things right, clean up, skim over what others have done wrong, who forget a gibe and can serve those who have been their tormenters.
Giertz goes on to cite Scriptures that address the suffering and the blessing of Christians (1 Peter 4:19; 5:10-11). I would add the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5), whose ethic Giertz alludes to, in which Jesus says that those who mourn, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, those who are reviled and falsely accused on account of Him–all of which are types of suffering–are “blessed.”
That blessing does not mean that the various kinds of suffering are any less horrible to experience. But when, for example, we are in mourning for the loss of someone we love, the experience is agonizing. And yet, we don’t want it to be taken away. We might deaden our feelings with drugs, but typically we want to mourn , out of love for the person whose loss has stricken us so intensely.
The blessing, though, for these kinds of suffering is that we shall be comforted, we shall be satisfied, we shall have the kingdom of heaven. Indeed, these promises in the future tense point to the resolutions we will experience in eternity. And yet, we can, by faith, grasp onto the promise of that blessing now.
Image by Alexandra ❤️A life without animals is not worth living❤️ from Pixabay
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