|
|
|
Sunday August 22, 2010 "Must We Suffer?" Romans 8:12-24 |
 |
|
Location: Blogs Brad's BlogBrad's Sermons |
 | | Posted by: Brad Miller | 8/25/2010 8:11 AM | Suffering is all around us. Each of us know what it means to suffer. Each of us has witnessed the pain of loved ones dealing with disease or heartbreak or misfortune. And each of us has probably wondered: must we suffer?
In his letter to the church in Rome, Paul addressed the issue of suffering, at least in passing.
As we hear the scripture, let’s put ourselves in the position of the congregation in Rome. We have gathered to worship and are told that there is a letter to be shared, a letter from a missionary in the field. The letter is from Paul, a missionary known to us, even if we have never met him.
Close your eyes and listen to Paul’s words. Remember, if you were in the church in Rome, you would most likely hear once and once only, so listen carefully. I have asked XXX to read part of Paul’s letter to us.
So then, brothers and sisters, we are debtors, not to the flesh, to live according to the flesh— for if you live according to the flesh, you will die; but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live. For all who are led by the Spirit of God are children of God. For you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received a spirit of adoption. When we cry, ‘Abba! Father!’ it is that very Spirit bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs, heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ—if, in fact, we suffer with him so that we may also be glorified with him.
I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory about to be revealed to us. For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the children of God; for the creation was subjected to futility, not of its own will but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to decay and will obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God. We know that the whole creation has been groaning in labour pains until now; and not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly while we wait for adoption, the redemption of our bodies. For in hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what is seen? (Romans 8:12-24)
So, what did you hear? What is Paul trying to say? He’s talking about suffering, but are there any words of comfort? Essentially he says: “If you live according to the flesh, you will suffer…you will die. But give your whole self to the guidance of the spirit, and you will live.
There’s nothing to fear. In fact, we all suffer, and our suffering is to God’s glory and in solidarity with Jesus Christ!”
“But really,” Paul seems to say, “this suffering we undergo is not even worth considering, when you realize what glory awaits us! Sure, we struggle and suffer but big deal: God is with us.”
If you are a Christian in the church in Rome, having never met Paul, what might your reaction be? I might say to myself, “What does he know of my suffering? How can he dismiss it so casually by saying something better awaits us? It’s not that I don’t believe that, but hey, what about now? I’m hurting now! The Romans persecute us! The Hebrew leadership shuns us! Tell me how I can cope with this suffering.”
Paul is certainly right on one point: We suffer. Why? Is it part of being a Christian? If so, is there a way to at least relieve the suffering?
These are questions that have been raised for centuries. In Psalm 90, a Psalm attributed to Moses, the writer acknowledges that suffering is normal, and asks God to bless God’s people with the following line: “Make us glad as many days as you have afflicted us, and as many years as we have seen evil.”
Think about what is being said here: “if you are going to make us suffer God, please give us at least an equal number of days when we do not suffer.”
In the gospel according to Luke in the 13th chapter, Jesus makes it clear that suffering happens, and the fact is the good right along with the bad will suffer. He is speaking to a crowd of people and he alludes to 18 people killed by a tower that collapsed and asks, “Do you think they deserved it? Were they punished?” His answer is that they were not punished, they did not deserve it.
This leads us right back to the question that has perplexed humanity for ages: Why must we suffer? And in our suffering, we are led to other questions: What does my suffering mean? Am I being punished?
Many, many writers have addressed this issue over the centuries. My survey of the literature shows me that most writers come to the same conclusion concerning a very important question: “Must we suffer? Is it inevitable?” Well, the answer seems to be yes, it is inevitable. One of the most persuasive arguments came from Howard Thurman in his book “Disciplines of the Spirit.” Thurman makes a very persuasive case that suffering is inevitable largely because of one God given gift: free will.
Free will means we can make the wrong choice just as readily as the right choice. And when people make the wrong choice, there are consequences. But it goes even beyond that. The fact is that sometimes we suffer even though we have done nothing. We are innocent, yet still we are hurt.
Here’s how Thurman explains that: it’s not always that our individual choices have consequences for us. Sometimes, our choice has consequences for someone else. The driver who gets behind the wheel of a car when drunk may survive a crash…but what of the innocent victim of that same drunk driver?
Another more global example: decisions made years ago to build our cities and to industrialize the world – decisions made in good conscience - have changed our world, both in intended and uninteded ways. Because of the rise of the factory system, we saw prosperity that is unparalleled in human history. But we have also saw the rise of industrial pollution and congestion in our cities. Pollution carries with it the spectre of diseases that were almost unheard of 150 years ago. Congestion carries with it problems that come with overcrowding: more pollution because of more automobiles; issues of crime and noise and increasing conflict. It’s not that industrialization was a bad idea: not at all. But there are unintended consequences, nonetheless.
This is not a very comforting conclusion, is it? Oh, there is some comfort in the idea that God is not causing our suffering and pain. But only to the degree that we, as innocent victims, realize we are not alone. The idea of seeming random disaster, disease, hardship and pain that is not our fault is comforting only to the degree that we realize that we have not been singled out for punishment.
This is the paradox of life in God’s world: joy and pain each exist because God loved us enough to allow us the freedom to choose. Beauty and ugliness are both possible outcomes of human decisions. Suffering and peace co-exist side by side.
If suffering is inevitable, the nature of our question changes: is there any way to help alleviate the suffering that we will endure?
In 1996, Cardinal Joseph Bernadin of the Archdiocese of Chicago, died after a long and sometimes controversial career in the Roman Catholic Church. But it was in his final illness that Cardinal Bernadin became a living example of grace in the midst of suffering. Cardinal Bernadin was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer a year before his death, and in that year, did more to illustrate the Apostle Paul’s lesson on suffering than anyone I have ever seen.
Cardinal Bernadin first faced his illness with the same reaction that so many of us would have: grief, fear, anger. He was human after all, and this was not good news. But he also knew that he was not alone. He spoke and wrote of the presence of the Holy Spirit during his illness. The same Holy Spirit that guided him in his church duties, that same Holy Spirit that strengthened him in times of conflict, also gave him guidance during his illness. Bernardin lived out Paul’s idea that he was a child of God, led by the Spirit of God. He knew that God’s Spirit had led him to serve well for many years and that this same Spirit was still with him. He demonstrated that the Holy Spirit did not come to guide so that we might be led to a place of fear, but rather to a place where all God’s promises could be trusted.
Bernardin wrote of all of this and admitted that his suffering was real and unwelcome, but in the end, the only way it could be dealt with was to rely on God’s strength and on the hope of all of God’s promises.
But in the midst of our pain, how do we find that strength? How do we make that connection? How do we get past our own feelings of despair to feel the strength of God’s presence?
Bernadin’s answer to those questions was to begin with prayer. You pray for two things, he said. First, you pray for strength of character, so that you can deal with the adversity. You invite God in, admitting you are powerless to deal with with your pain alone.
Harold Kushner, in his book “When Bad Things Happen
To Good People” posited almost precisely the same thing when he wrote: “When we try to deal with suffering, we find out that we are not strong. We are weak; we get tired, we get angry, overwhelmed. We begin to wonder how we will make it through…But when we reach the limits of our own strength and courage, something unexpected happens. We find reinforcement from a force outside ourselves. And in the knowledge that we are not alone, that God is on our side, we manage to go on.”
Cardinal Bernardin said that there is a second thing we should pray for in the midst of our suffering, and it is closely related to the first. He says we should pray for connection with other people. Howard Thurman posits that there is something very personal and private about suffering…but he says, there is also a fellowship of suffering, a community of sufferers. And in that community, we find strength. That community is called the church. And that community is our greatest resource in facing the pain and suffering of difficult times.
I recall a time when I was not sure I could get up in the morning. Not just one morning, but every morning – for literally months. Profound loss can make one feel so alone and confused as to be quite literally debilitating, as I was finding out. The suffering I felt affected every aspect of my life. It was emotional, spiritual, even physical. Loss can do that to you. The pain was as real as anything I have endured. I found it difficult to pray. I found it difficult to trust God. How could I? God had abandoned me, of that I was sure.
But, one day, a friend made it clear that she understood. She had been through something similar. You see, she was part of what Thurman called “the fellowship of suffering”, which I came to understand was all of humanity.
She introduced me to a “community of sufferers” otherwise known as the church. And as part of that fellowship, surrounded by that loving community, I came to understand that the words of Paul were true: the pain I was feeling was part of being alive. And it was nothing compared to the joy and comfort I found by being part of something bigger than myself.
There are still days when I can feel the pain of what I suffered through. It became a part of me. It became a part of my life. But one day I remember saying something that I bet each and every one of you have said at some point: “How do people without a faith community get through times like these?”
Ahhh, there it is: an answer. Yes, suffering is inevitable. But we have a place to go to help relieve our suffering. And that place is this place: the community of faith known as the church.
In this place, we are allowed to be authentically ourselves. In this place we can sit and cry and the response will not be that people will move away from us…no just the opposite. The response will be that people will move toward us, reaching out to embrace us in our pain. In this place, we recognize that we are not in this thing alone. In this place we gather at this table, not only in touch with each other, but with all those who have gathered around tables like this in places like this for time in memoriam. In this place we raise our voices in prayer not because God listens better when we speak as one, but because we are strengthened when we share together. In this place, we share our suffering, just as we share our celebrations. In this place, we are comforted, not because the cause of our suffering goes away, but because the healing balm of community soothes our weary souls. In this place, we feel the presence of God, and we feel it through each other. In this place, we find that we have the strength to go on.
There is no way around it: suffering is inevitable. We cannot remove it completely from our lives. It is part of the human condition.
We can, however, deal with it. And it starts right here. Because in this gathering, we find friendship and comfort and love and strength, and above all else: hope. For as the apostle Paul said, it is through hope that we were saved. | | | Permalink | Trackback |
|
|
 | |