When You Are Hurt by God's People

 

Suffering 11

 

Note: From time to time, as we proceed through this series on suffering, I am going to bring you the stories of some people who have suffered, stories written in their own words. Today's post is by Robert Rutta, veteran missionary to New Zealand. At one point he was deeply hurt by a fellow missionary. He tells that story, and how God gave grace to overcome it.

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Depression, discouragement, and despondency can bring a slow death to ministry. These are things that everyone who is in service for our Lord faces to some extent. The normal trials that we face can weigh us down, but sometimes you have a situation that just punches you in the face and leaves you dazed and hurting. We had one of those back in the 90s that could have been the death of my ministry. This was the closest that I have ever been to quitting, packing up, and going back to the States and it took a few years to recover.

I was 26 when my wife and I landed in New Zealand, ready to serve. We jumped into the work with both feet. We set out to plant a church. In those first years we saw our church reach close to 40 in attendance, and then go down to almost nothing and then back up again several times. Oh the joys of an infant church in a town where people were constantly moving in and out. There were no transfers from other churches. These were people that we had met, won to the Lord and carefully discipled. We were seeing the ministry growing, but inside my wife and I were terribly lonely. We were so far from home and there were no churches anywhere close to us for fellowship. We went from the excitement of deputation, rushing from church to church presenting our ministry and always being around people to years of complete isolation.

In our 8th year on the field we were contacted by a missionary wanting to come to New Zealand. He needed a sponsor to help bring him into the country and I was eager for fellowship. When a missionary enters into a situation like that it can be the greatest of blessings or it can be a nightmare. We had no idea of the storm that was coming. We ran into an immediate conflict when we went out soulwinning together as I felt that he was using a shallow, pressure filled, deceptive method in order to get notches on his Bible, but with no true decision within the heart of the “new converts.” I had to confront him about it. This didn’t go over well. In the time that he was with us we went out soulwinning together about 3 times a week but from that point on he had few, if any, decisions while I was with him because he was limited to doing it without pressure. Even so, he would come to church every Sunday reporting 20 or more that he had “won” while going out on his own that week doing it his way.

After he had been with us for a few weeks we were talking in my office and he said something about the pastor that started the college that we had both attended. I made the statement that I love him but he is human and there are things that he can be wrong about. Everything went downhill from there. From that point I was the enemy. He and his wife refused to talk with my wife and I, even at church. We realized that we had to move him on and get him out of there so we worked out a deal with the government that he could alter his visa and let him go out on his own. He and his wife were only with us for 3-4 months, but he destroyed our church during that time. His attitude about us was clear to all and the spirit of discord caused people to leave that we had worked so hard to reach. He spent much of his time trying to convince our members to move with him to help him start the new church and even returned to our town afterwards to meet with them. In his arrogance he defied every rule of ethics in the ministry.

I have always been an introvert by nature. I can plod. I can work and be consistent, but there was no way that I could compare with someone with a charismatic personality who is fully self-assured, outgoing and well-spoken. We made it to his last Sunday with us and he asked to preach in his final service. I foolishly said yes, thinking this would be his chance to have a friendly goodbye. He preached about how our church didn’t qualify as a real church and they needed a pastor that was a man of God and a true soulwinner. I sat on the front row and cried. I know I should have stopped him, but I didn’t have any self-worth left. Those few months had worn me down and ripped me apart.

When you have been hurt badly it will take time to recover. We understand that when we think of our physical bodies. When you have an accident or an operation you expect that you will need to give your body the time that it needs to mend. Bones need to knit together, the stiches need to heal, and scars must form. That all takes time. The same must occur with the spiritual and the emotional.

I went through a few years after the above incident where I was functioning in the ministry – preaching, serving – but inside I was a wreck. I would preach on Sunday and then go home and fall down on the floor in my office and cry. Inside the words still echoed that I wasn’t worthy to be in the ministry. I would go soulwinning and when the people opened the door I would begin to cry. I recognize now that I was going through depression, but it is hard to see clearly when you are in the middle of it.

What do you do in order to mend? How do you get back to normal? Can there ever be normal again?

 

Pray.

Bare your heart fully and honestly with God. Tell the Lord what you are feeling – every last detail, every hurt, every fear, every disappointment - and then ask for His strength to get you through. You are not going to make it through on your own. During the times of hurt you are going to need to draw closer to the Lord than you have ever been before.

 

Tears.

Early in Bible college I worked in a job where many of my coworkers were immigrants from countries all around the world. Most knew little or no English. My heart would break as I wanted to witness but couldn’t communicate. I would find myself crying for them as I worked. That truly gave me a heart for missions and the needs all around the world. I asked my pastor from my home church how to handle it. He told me, “Show joy when you around people during the day, but then cry when you are alone with God at night. They need to see the joy of the Lord in your life.” Those words have stayed with me through all aspects of ministry. Tears have an important cleansing characteristic. As you go through the process of forgiveness, tears that are shed in the presence of the Lord will help in the healing process.

 

Forgive.

Recognize the humanity of the person that has hurt you. Understand that they are just human and can do wrong. Then forgive. Don’t strike back and leave the vengeance to the Lord. Unforgiveness will simply lead to bitterness. Bitterness is like rust on iron. It will eat you alive and destroy every aspect of your spiritual walk. We are commanded to forgive as Christ forgave us. We must forgive, or we will never be able to help others.

 

Look to the Bible for examples.

The Bible is filled with stories of men and women who were seemingly insignificant – and that is how I felt. But God chose them, prepared them, taught them, enabled them, and then used them for His service. Those like Gideon. He saw himself as the least in his father’s household, but God saw the hidden man of the heart, the mighty man of valor that he could become. You are focused on your own weakness. Instead, you must focus on His strength.

 

Don’t compare yourself with others.

When we compare ourselves among ourselves we truly are not wise. (II Cor 10:12) I went through too many years looking at people with big ministries or who saw great results and shaming myself for being the person that I saw myself to be. The incident above just reinforced that view of myself. Jesus taught the parable of the talents to show us that we are not all entrusted with the same level of ministry, but as long as I take what I have been given and invest it fully and completely, then I can stand before the Lord and hear those most beautiful of words, “Well done, thou good and faithful servant.” Truly understanding that truth lifted a weight off of my shoulders. I don’t have to match anyone else. I don’t have to have the skill or personality of anyone else. I just have to use all that God has entrusted me with. But here is an additional thought. Don’t limit yourself. If you remain in the service of the Lord for a lifetime you may find that in youth you saw yourself as a one or two talent Christian, capable of so little, but you determined to be faithful with what you had. As the years progress you may find that God, because of your faithfulness, has now entrusted you with more that He wants you to invest.

 

Reach out for help.

Find someone that you can confide in and share your heart. I phoned a pastor friend in the States and told him that I was hurting really bad. My heart was broken and I needed him. My body was heaving and through tears I said, “Don’t tell me to give up. Please help me to find a way that I can keep going.” Through the years, whenever I have sought counsel or help because of burdens that has always been my initial request – I want to find a way to stand up again and continue in the work.

Robert and Diana Rutta

You will find that time and a consistent walk with the Lord are great healers. We have been on the field for 34 years now. I have never been happier in the ministry than I am now. I laugh a lot. If anything, I get in trouble for laughing too often. I constantly rejoice and am amazed by what I see the Lord doing. I look at my church and ministry and I have so much more than I ever could have imagined. My church is filled with people that I love. I rejoice with every step of growth in them that I see. If I had responded incorrectly to the hurt and pain, I would have lost all of this.

Community Baptist Church
Dunedin, New Zealand

Keep serving the Lord and build new experiences and new victories and those hurts of the past become a distant memory. From time to time you will look at the variety of scars that you have gained – the scars will never go away – and you will remember. But you will have peace. God had a purpose and He meant it for good. The memories will be of the wonderful way that God brought you through, and He will be exalted.

Suffering Your Family

 

Suffering 10

 

          Thus far in this series on suffering, we have discussed what suffering is, and examined three who suffered in the Bible, God, Jesus, and Job. Before we move on to a different facet of this study, I want to examine one more individual who suffered much in the Word of God, namely, Joseph. We do not generally think of Joseph first when we think of suffering, but his suffering was acute. Further, what he endured and how he handled it over time contains some wonderfully practical lessons for us.

Joseph's Brothers Returning
by Pietro della Vecchia c 1650

          In looking at his life, I would argue that Joseph’s suffering revolved primarily around his family. In one way or another, he endured the loss of something precious via the death of his mother (Genesis 35.18-19), the favoritism of his father (Genesis 37.3-4), the scorn of his brothers (Genesis 37.4, 8), and the corresponding loss of peace in the home (Genesis 37.4). He was threatened with death by his brothers (Genesis 37.18, 20), sold into Egyptian slavery by his brothers (Genesis 37.27-28), endured the loss of his childhood home and family, the disorientation of being thrust suddenly into a foreign culture, sexual harassment (Genesis 39.7), slander by his abuser (Genesis 39.14-15), a serious legal charge of rape (Genesis 39.14, 17), and was forgotten in prison for years (Genesis 41.1).

          That paragraph reads like a counsellor’s nightmare. Twenty years after these events, the trauma of them still gripped Joseph. In the process of being reconciled with his family, the Word of God tells us that Joseph wept on six specific occasions. (Genesis 42.21, 43.30, 45.2, 46.29, 50.1, 50.17) And each of these six cases was directly tied to his family, and the loss he had suffered in that context over the decades.

          At the risk of being controversial, it is my contention that Joseph’s suffering was the result of generational sin. Ezekiel 18.2 tells us each of us is accountable for himself, but the choices I make, for good or ill, greatly affect the environment in which my children grow up. My choices influence them. Wrong actions – sin – are rooted in wrong thinking. Often, that wrong thinking is passed down generationally so those wrong actions are passed down generationally as well.

          When we find Joseph, favoritism and deceit are both part of his life, and no wonder – they were part of his forefather’s lives. Joseph’s grandfather, Isaac, viewed Esau much more favorably than Jacob. Joseph’s grandmother, Rebekah, did the exact opposite. (Genesis 35.28) In this environment, Jacob learned deceit at his mother’s knee as she sought to advance her chosen son. It was her idea to use the goats in place of the venison. It was her hands that cooked the meat. It was her idea to put Esau’s clothes on Jacob. It was her idea to put the goatskins on his hands. Is it any wonder that Jacob’s name literally came to mean deceiver? Or that he lived up to that name by deceiving Esau, Isaac, and Laban?

          The favoritism we see in Joseph’s grandparents we next find in his parents. Jacob expresses a clear preference for Rachel’s sons, Joseph and Benjamin. The deceit had even deeper roots. Joseph’s grandfather, Isaac, deceived the men of Gerar regarding his wife. He told them she was his sister. (Genesis 26.6-7) Where did Joseph’s grandfather learn that? From his own father, Abraham, who did it first in Egypt. (Genesis 12.10-13)

          In such a familial milieu it will little surprise us to find it in Joseph’s day. Deceit and favoritism run like a dark thread through four consecutive generations and Joseph is the victim of it. He is the favorite. His brothers beat him up, sell him into slavery, and deceive their father about it all.

          It is undeniable that Joseph suffered awfully as a result of all of this. How then did he handle it? I would argue that he dealt with his suffering via forgiveness in his heart.

Joseph, Son of Jacob, in Jail
by Mariano Barbasan c 1900

          Ultimately, sin is done against God. David’s penitential Psalm 51 shows us this. Sin is the violation of His law, not mine. This is why He and He alone has the duty and prerogative of dispensing justice and vengeance. (Romans 12.19) At the same time, however, sin is also against people. Generally, sin and especially the consequence of sin is toward or against someone. At the least, our sin almost always causes suffering, for ourselves and others. Thus, while most of the time Scripture says we sin against God, there is also the idea or concept of sinning against an individual. (I Samuel 19.4) Surely, Saul’s sin of murderous rage was also against David. Surely, David’s sin of adultery and murderous coverup was also against Uriah. Surely, the brothers violence, greed, and deceit was also against Joseph.

          If I can be sinned against – and I can – then I need to forgive. My forgiveness does not take away God’s responsibility to dispense justice, but it does lay my own sense of injustice and thus my own justified sense of vengeance aside. The damage is in me; the healing must begin there too. In Joseph’s case, literally four generations of family deceit had resulted in an accumulation of toxic sludge. Before he could cleanse that in his family he had to purge it in himself first.

          In a sense, too, this is more suffering. If suffering is loss, then when I forgive I must lose my sense of injury, of injustice. I must release my right to demand an accounting from them, release it into the hands of God, the Judge of all.

          Did you ever consider why God left Joseph in such misery for two long decades? Slavery, then prison, then being forgotten in prison? Because God was peeling him like an onion. The Joseph that started that journey was arrogant, and then arrogantly angry. Over many a painful hour, God sloughed that off of Joseph’s heart. Before Joseph could handle exaltation in Egypt, let alone heal the deep wounds in his family God had to heal Joseph. That healing began as he fought and won the battles of forgiveness in his heart.

          It is clear from the Word of God that Joseph forgave his brethren long before they showed back up in his courtroom decades later. Yet though he had forgiven them, Joseph still required of them repentance, and justifiably so. When they arrive, he recognizes them instantly. He now has the legal power and ability to enact vengeance, but he has already laid that aside in his heart. So why does he not extend that forgiveness to them immediately? Because he was not sure they were repentant.

          This was not payback on Joseph’s part; it was testing. A vengeful person does not weep as we have seen Joseph weeps during this period. He keeps Simeon, and sends the rest back, insisting they return with Benjamin. He spoils Benjamin, testing whether they will be jealous of Benjamin as they were of Joseph two decades prior. He then forces a confrontation over Benjamin. In the process, he discovers his brothers are conscious of their sin, that they refuse to bite at the temptation of jealousy, and they are willing to take Benjamin’s place in suffering.

Joseph does not ask them if they are sorry; he tests them if they are sorry. Actions speak so much more loudly than words, especially actions under pressure. Joseph pushes his brethren to the wall, and they respond beautifully with sorrow and humility. (Genesis 44.14-16) This reminds me so much of how God deals with us. The result of this difficult process was reconciliation, initially when Joseph revealed himself (Genesis 49.1), and ultimately after Jacob’s death. (Genesis 50.15-19)

          What do we learn from all this? Someone has to break the cycle of generational sin in a family, and the stop the corresponding damage that flows from it. Doing so will cost something. If someone in my family hurts me, I should seek to remember some of their decisions may be grounded in generational sin. I can and should forgive family members who have hurt me, whether they ever repent or not, but reconciliation is dependent on their repentance. Forgiveness in our heart greatly eases our own suffering; repentance alone can ease theirs. But both of these – heart forgiveness and thorough repentance – are necessary to heal the deep wounds of generational sin.

          It is probable that nothing will cause you more heartache in this life than your family. If it continues through you to another generation the devil wins. Forgive. Look for repentance. Welcome reconciliation.

Suffer your family well.

Job's Great Mistake

Suffering 9

 

          To study the subject of suffering in the Word of God and in human history both is to encounter Job. In fact, this blog series on suffering was indirectly birthed out of a desire I had to finally come to a good understanding of the book of Job. Last week we traced the progression of Job’s faith in God becoming Job’s frustration with God, and the isolation that comes to each of us when God is silent. In today’s post, I want to put my finger on Job’s single greatest mistake.

Galileo by Felix Parra
c 1873

          In the 1600s, Galileo, one of the great scientists of the Renaissance, asserted that Ptolemy had been wrong 15 centuries prior in positing the Earth as the center of the known universe. For his pain, Galileo was roundly condemned by all and sundry, and spent much of the latter part of his life defending himself against attacks and suffering negative consequences as a result of his position.

          Galileo’s world was no more guilty than our own of thinking everything revolves around us. We are all of us prone to be egocentric. Indeed, I would argue that even good Christians do that. We want relief from our suffering. We want vindication in the eyes of our detractors. We want deliverance from our pain. We want restoration of that which was taken away. We view the Word of God primarily as given to help us rather than primarily being the revelation of God. When things do not make sense in our lives, we demand an explanation from God.

…but the universe does not revolves around me; it revolves around God

Colossians 3:3–5

For ye are dead, and your life is hid with Christ in God. When Christ, who is our life, shall appear, then shall ye also appear with him in glory. Mortify therefore your members which are upon the earth; fornication, uncleanness, inordinate affection, evil concupiscence, and covetousness, which is idolatry:

Galatians 2:20 I am crucified with Christ: nevertheless I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me: and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me.

          Job’s indescribable pain, Job’s devastating loss, Job’s deep suffering is met with the silence of God. And when God finally speaks, He does so sternly to all involved, including Job. It is as if He says to Job, “Here I am; who are you?”

 

Job 38:1–4 

Then the Lord answered Job out of the whirlwind, and said, Who is this that darkeneth counsel By words without knowledge? Gird up now thy loins like a man; For I will demand of thee, and answer thou me. Where wast thou when I laid the foundations of the earth? Declare, if thou hast understanding.

Job 40:1–4

Moreover the Lord answered Job, and said, Shall he that contendeth with the Almighty instruct him? He that reproveth God, let him answer it. Then Job answered the Lord, and said, Behold, I am vile; what shall I answer thee? I will lay mine hand upon my mouth.

          The simple yet vital truth is the universe does not revolve around us; it revolves around God. God desired to use Job for His own glory in a contest with Satan. Job did not like it much, and understood it even less. But God is God and Job was not, and in the final analysis, that is all Job needed to know.

          When you and I suffer we almost always make the same great mistake Job did. We focus on ourselves, on our circumstances, on our pain. In so doing, we are as wrong as Job was. To me, the great lesson of Job is that we ought instead to focus on God, on Who God is, and what God is choosing to do with and in my life for His own purposes. My suffering is not about me. My response to my suffering is not about me. Every bit of that ought to be about God.

Job 42:1–6

Then Job answered the Lord, and said, I know that thou canst do every thing, And that no thought can be withholden from thee. Who is he that hideth counsel Without knowledge? Therefore have I uttered that I understood not; Things too wonderful for me, which I knew not. Hear, I beseech thee, and I will speak: I will demand of thee, and declare thou unto me. I have heard of thee by the hearing of the ear: But now mine eye seeth thee. Wherefore I abhor myself, and repent In dust and ashes.

          In essence, Job says, “You know me, everything about me. I, quite obviously, know entirely too little about You and Your ways. In my smallness, I demanded answers of you, but now that I see You I realize I was wrong to demand answers. I see You – and that is enough of answer all by itself. I repent of my selfishness.”

          Beloved, the great need in our suffering is not for it to end. It is not for us to obtain comfort. It is not for us to grasp the why. No, the great need in our suffering is for us to see God. To place Him front and center, to give Him the preeminence, to realize we orbit His Sun and not the other way around. And in seeing Him we will find all we really need.

          He – all by Himself – is enough. Just Him.

Job's Hell

 

Suffering 8 

Job and His Friends
by Ilya Repin, c 1869

          In the last few weeks we have examined the meaning of the word “suffering” in the Scriptures, and looked at how God goes before us in His own suffering. Today and next week, I want to turn my attention to the greatest non-divine object of suffering in the Bible, namely, Job.

          As a regular reader of the Bible for decades, I have read through Job numerous times. However, as I got older, I became increasingly frustrated with the fact I did not understand it very well. Thus it was that several years ago when I began preparing this series I set out to study the book of Job. When I do long-term preparation it generally involves three things. First, I read the book repeatedly, out loud, preferably all in one setting. Second, I read commentaries about the book. Third, I read books on the major themes touched on in the scriptural book I am studying.

          With Job, I did all three of these. Because Job is a fairly complex book, it helped me to print the entire thing out, and to color code it based on who is speaking. Job was one color, God another, Satan another, Bildad another, etc. That helped me very much as I sought to understand the flow of thought in the text. I also gathered several commentaries on Job, and several books on the theme of suffering. Slowly, it began to come together. In these two posts, I am not going to tell you everything I learned about the book of Job, but I do want to give you several key observations I have made along the way.

          We see that Job did indeed suffer, and suffer deeply. It is my opinion that Job’s children were living contrary to the Lord. (Job 1.5) That brought suffering. He lost his oxen, asses, sheep, and camels. (Job 1.14-17) That brought suffering. He lost his children. (Job 1.18-19) That brought suffering. He lost his health. (Job 2.7) That brought suffering. His marriage was deeply damaged. (Job 2.9-10) That brought suffering. His friend’s sincerely yet errantly attacked his integrity. That brought suffering. He lost his reputation. That brought suffering. And in his pain God was silent. That brought suffering.  

          If suffering is rooted in loss, then Job suffered more than anyone else I have ever heard of. From what I can gather, of all he had acquired – spiritually, emotionally, physically - there were only three things he did not lose. He did not lose his integrity. Of course, I would argue integrity is not something you can lose; you can only give it away. He also did not lose his faith. Likewise, that is not lost so much as given away. Nor did he lose his life.

          Everything else he had, everything, he lost. He lost most of it suddenly. He lost most of it without any rational reason he could point to or understand, nor could anyone give him an adequate explanation for why it had happened. Furthermore, his support system – his wife/friends/God – only caused him additional pain in the midst of his deep suffering. Is it any wonder he responded badly?

          Job’s response, which I have just described with the adverb “badly”, is worth noting. In order to do that, I am going to include more Scripture than I normally would with a blog post; I appreciate your patience with me here.

          At first, Job remained firm in His trust in Jehovah.

Job 1:20–22

20 Then Job arose, and rent his mantle, and shaved his head, and fell down upon the ground, and worshipped,

21 And said, Naked came I out of my mother’s womb, And naked shall I return thither: The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; Blessed be the name of the Lord.

22 In all this Job sinned not, nor charged God foolishly.

          He also rebuked his wife when she verbally expressed her frustration with God.

Job 2:10

10 But he said unto her, Thou speakest as one of the foolish women speaketh. What? shall we receive good at the hand of God, and shall we not receive evil? In all this did not Job sin with his lips.

          By implication here, Job realizes it is neither fair to Him nor right to always expect God to pour out unending blessing in this life.

          Over time, however, Job’s attitude toward his suffering begins to deteriorate. I noticed something similar in myself when dealing with covid. At first, I expressed faith, sought to follow my conscience in obeying both God and the government, and took things in stride. But as the weeks became months my attitude went downhill. Job and I are not unique in this. For the most part, it is sadly normal for spiritual people to respond well at the first sudden onset of suffering in their life only to slide into anger, questioning, and accusation toward/with God later.

          Thus it was with Job. Soon enough, he is expressing his own frustration with God. Why will God not answer him? Why will God not explain Himself? What is the point of life if it is only to live in the never-ending misery it had become?

Job 3:20–23

20 Wherefore is light given to him that is in misery, And life unto the bitter in soul;

21 Which long for death, but it cometh not; And dig for it more than for hid treasures;

22 Which rejoice exceedingly, And are glad, when they can find the grave?

23 Why is light given to a man whose way is hid, And whom God hath hedged in?

          This frustration with a silent God, a God who was mysteriously afflicting great pain on him, leads to his lament. He still trusted God, but that God was silent, and refused to either explain or eliminate his suffering, nor would God grant him the meagerest crumb of comfort. Then what is the point? There is no hope, no strength to endure, no help – life is sheer misery.

Job by Leon Bonnet
c 1880

Job 6:8–13

8 Oh that I might have my request; And that God would grant me the thing that I long for!

9 Even that it would please God to destroy me; That he would let loose his hand, and cut me off!

10 Then should I yet have comfort; Yea, I would harden myself in sorrow: let him not spare; For I have not concealed the words of the Holy One.

11 What is my strength, that I should hope? And what is mine end, that I should prolong my life?

12 Is my strength the strength of stones? Or is my flesh of brass?

13 Is not my help in me? And is wisdom driven quite from me?

          Eventually, in an inevitable development, Job arrives at the place where he thinks it would have been better for him to have never lived in the first place.

Job 3:11

11 Why died I not from the womb? Why did I not give up the ghost when I came out of the belly?

          What is key to understand here is that this not merely suicidal ideation. This is an indictment against the God who created Him, protected Him, provided for Him, blessed Him, and now apparently tortures Him. This is his great sin. In Job 1 he is without fault but by the end God is reproving him harshly. Why? In asserting that God was being unfair to Him, either in allowing His suffering or not explaining His suffering, Job is saying that God was wrong. Job's position is that God is actually unrighteous, which is an awful indictment of God. Yet in all of this, Job still believes in God, even argues for the theological point that God is aware of what is happening to him. Indeed, God is omniscient; He does not ignore us. Believing this, however, only makes it worse for Job. God knows of his misery – and is doing nothing.

Job 7:19–21 

19 How long wilt thou not depart from me, Nor let me alone till I swallow down my spittle?

20 I have sinned; what shall I do unto thee, O thou preserver of men? Why hast thou set me as a mark against thee, So that I am a burden to myself?

21 And why dost thou not pardon my transgression, And take away mine iniquity? For now shall I sleep in the dust; And thou shalt seek me in the morning, but I shall not be.

          The result of this landslide of suffering in Job’s life was complete isolation, a result that is all too common in our more modern day experience. Suffering involves loss, and that loss metastasizes. It does not remain contained within the strict confines of the area in which the loss was actually experienced. Like a contagion, our losses begin to mount, and as they mount we become increasingly isolated.

          Think with me, for a moment, of what happens in the life of a pastor who commits adultery or embezzles from church accounts. He loses his integrity. He loses his job. He loses his meaning for life, his purpose for existing. Most of the time, he loses his friends. He loses his church. He often loses his family. And he suffers much damage in his relationship with the Lord. What a landslide of isolation!

          While you can and perhaps should argue that pastor’s suffering is self-inflicted, you cannot argue that Job’s suffering was self-inflicted. It was God permitted and satanically inflicted. Though that was true, Job ends up isolated anyway.

          Due to their theological ineptitude and their attacks on his integrity, he ends up isolated from his friends.

Job 6:14

14 To him that is afflicted pity should be shewed from his friend; But he forsaketh the fear of the Almighty.

…

Job 16:2 

2 I have heard many such things: Miserable comforters are ye all.

          Even if our friends do not condemn us in our loss as his unjustifiably did, they often disassociate themselves from us. Even when they do not disassociate themselves from us, they do not in any way understand what we are enduring. They cannot, for the simple reason they have not endured what we are enduring.

          Some years ago, I stood waiting in my church foyer for the last person to leave so I could lock up. I had already turned the rest of the lights in the building off, and we stood pleasantly conversing in the foyer. As the last person turned to go, they casually threw out a remark that devastated me. I mumbled goodbye, stumbled up the stairs to my darkened auditorium, and wept all alone on the back row of that vast, quiet, dark room. No one knew I was there weeping. If they had, they would not have understood why, nor could I possibly have explained it. That individual’s remark had unintentionally pierced a protective barrier I had erected around some painful facts in my heart. I sat on the back row, emotionally bleeding out, with no one the wiser. I was all alone. Except Him.

          In addition to becoming isolated from his friends, Job also felt cut off from God. When a lost man experiences pain, he seeks solace in whatever he can find, his bottle, his pills, his therapist, etc. The carnal man is largely similar. The spiritual man, however, turns to the Lord. Which only makes the silence of God, the lack of response or explanation or comfort from God all the worse.

Job 9:13–18

13 If God will not withdraw his anger, The proud helpers do stoop under him.

14 How much less shall I answer him, And choose out my words to reason with him?

15 Whom, though I were righteous, yet would I not answer, But I would make supplication to my judge.

16 If I had called, and he had answered me; Yet would I not believe that he had hearkened unto my voice.

17 For he breaketh me with a tempest, And multiplieth my wounds without cause.

18 He will not suffer me to take my breath, But filleth me with bitterness.

…

Job 23:3–9

3 Oh that I knew where I might find him! That I might come even to his seat!

4 I would order my cause before him, And fill my mouth with arguments.

5 I would know the words which he would answer me, And understand what he would say unto me.

6 Will he plead against me with his great power? No; but he would put strength in me.

7 There the righteous might dispute with him; So should I be delivered for ever from my judge.

8 Behold, I go forward, but he is not there; And backward, but I cannot perceive him:

9 On the left hand, where he doth work, but I cannot behold him: He hideth himself on the right hand, that I cannot see him:

          Often, the Lord graciously comforts us in our suffering. We are reminded of previous experiences of loss, and how God blessed us through them as we trusted Him. Friends gather to offer genuine solace. Music moves us, reminding us of God’s greatness and goodness. The peace of His creation soothes us. We read the Word, and the Spirit ministers a balm to our heart. We hear the Word preached, and the Comforter again does His best work in us.

          …but sometimes, there is no balm. Sometimes there is only silence. All the things that have previously ministered comfort to our aching heart are entirely out of reach. We are tantalized by the comfort others flaunt for their inferior grief, but nothing touches our heart. We sit on the back row, emotionally bleeding out, invisibly so to those around us, apparently. The darkness is so thick it can be felt. And even God is silent.

          When God is silent we are in hell.

Six Sufferings of the Saviour

 

Suffering 7

 

He is despised and rejected of men; A man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief: And we hid as it were our faces from him; He was despised, and we esteemed him not. Surely he hath boren our griefs, And caried our sorrows: Yet we did esteem him stricken, Smitten of God, and afflicted.

Isaiah 53.3-4

 

          Any study of suffering must constantly come back to Jesus Christ. No man ever suffered as much or as well as He did. The biblical references to His suffering are many in number and deep in emphasis.

          At the outset, let me briefly mention two foundational truths we must understand if we are going to rightly apply Christ’s example of suffering. First, Jesus was fully human. The incarnation is a precious and vital doctrine. And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us. (John 1.14) He did not have a sinful nature, but everything else it was to be human Jesus was. For example, humans are emotional creatures; Jesus was emotional. Second, Jesus was (and is) sinless. Following our previous example, this means He experienced all of these human emotions without sinning. For we have not an high priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin. (Hebrews 4.15)

          Two important applications flow from these two truths. First, it cannot be intrinsically sinful to sorrow, to hurt, to grieve, or to suffer. While we certainly can respond to these feelings sinfully we can also respond to them righteously. Thus, second, if we can learn to respond to suffering and grief and pain like Jesus did then we, too, can suffer without being sinful.

          So how did He suffer?

          First, Jesus suffered in His humanity. What I mean here is that Jesus felt and experienced what every human being who has walked this vale of tears has suffered. Since Eden, we live in a fallen world. No, He was not a sinner, but He experienced the human suffering we all experience. We call it life. He was tired from time to time. He tasted hunger and thirst. His muscles ached with soreness. At some point, He probably injured himself in some way while working or playing. That work was as much labor to Him as ours is to us, as exhausting as ours is.

          Second, Jesus suffered with compassion. On the surface, this seems a funny thing to pair with suffering, but it makes sense if you think about it. Frederick Buechner, a Presbyterian author who died last month, said, “Compassion is the sometimes fatal capacity for feeling what it’s like to live inside somebody else’s skin. It is the knowledge that there can never really be any peace and joy for me until there is peace and joy finally for you.” As a compassionate individual, you are always carrying the grief and sorrow and injustice and suffering of others in your own heart. They are dipped in grief and you taste the sorrow.

          Jesus had compassion on the multitudes. But when he saw the multitudes, he was moved with compassion on them, because they fainted, and were scattered abroad, as sheep having no shepherd. (Matthew 9.36) He also had compassion on the individual. Now when he came nigh to the gate of the city, behold, there was a dead man carried out, the only son of his mother, and she was a widow: and much people of the city was with her. And when the Lord saw her, he had compassion on her, and said unto her, Weep not. (Luke 7.12-13)

          He had (and has) compassion for the burdens, trials, heartaches, handicaps, disease, baggage, loneliness, fear, worry, the chains of their sin, and the consequences of their sin. Of course, this is not compassion for sin or on sin; it is compassion on people struggling to carry the result of sin, the curse of sin. Jesus therefore again groaning within himself cometh to the grave. (John 11.38) For we know that the whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain together until now. (Romans 8.22) As we wrote last week, if you carry it, He cares. If you care, He cares. What matters to you matters to Him. He enters into it with His compassion and sympathy.

          Third, Jesus suffered with grief. And when he had looked round about on them with anger, being grieved for the hardness of their hearts, he saith unto the man, Stretch forth thine hand. And he stretched it out: and his hand was restored whole as the other. (Mark 3.5) This was a grief driven by the rejection and hardness of His people. Here, this grief manifested as anger, or perhaps we could say His anger was the secondary emotion caused by His grief. We see this elsewhere, as well, namely in the cleansing of the Temple precincts at the bookends of His ministry. B. B. Warfield, a 19^th century theologian said of this, “The emotions of indignation and anger belong therefore to the very self-expression of a moral being as such and cannot be lacking to him in the presence of wrong. We should know, accordingly, without instruction that Jesus, living in the conditions of this earthly life under the curse of sin, could not fail to be the subject of the whole series of angry emotions.”

          This grief or anger is over sin. Yes, He has compassion on us as we struggle beneath the effects of our sin, but some people do not struggle at all. They are not fighting sin but welcoming it, embracing it, wading full-body into a willful rejection of God. To endure that, as righteousness personified, is to suffer. Holiness suffers sin. Purity suffers defilement. And it hurts. For thirty-three years He lived amongst us. For three and a half years, He had it thrust in His face. He took it, but He grieved.

          Fourth, Jesus suffered with dread. Saying, Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup from me: nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done. And there appeared an angel unto him from heaven, strengthening him. And being in an agony he prayed more earnestly: and his sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down to the ground. And when he rose up from prayer, and was come to his disciples, he found them sleeping for sorrow, And said unto them, Why sleep ye? rise and pray, lest ye enter into temptation. (Luke 22.42-46)

          I believe He knew Who He was and what His ultimate earthly destiny was by the age of twelve. It then follows He must have carried the dread of the cross for the balance of two decades, a dread that only grew as it loomed larger on the horizon. And he took with him Peter and the two sons of Zebedee, and began to be sorrowful and very heavy. Then saith he unto them, My soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death: tarry ye here, and watch with me. (Matthew 26.37-38)

          He was about to become sin for us. How painful that thought must have been to the morally perfect Christ. He was about to experience the wrath of His father as a result. How painful it must have been to feel the perfect, intimate, eternal relationship sundered, and to taste the Father’s wrath.

          This dread produced agony in Him, the only use of the original language word in the Bible. In contemporary times, the word use revolves around Olympic wrestling. He wrestled with His dread, wrestled with His desire to avoid the cross, wrestled with the devil. He wrestled so intensely His internal emotional agony evidenced itself as hematidrosis, bloody sweat. Historical medical cases of this have been observed in men waiting for battle or facing execution. Who in the days of his flesh, when had offered up prayers and supplications with strong crying and tears unto him that was able to save him from death, and was heard in that he feared; Though he were a Son, yet learned he obedience by the things which he suffered. (Hebrews 5.7-8)

          Fifth, Jesus suffered the cross. Entire books have been written about just this aspect of His suffering, and justifiably so. The physical torture He endured was only exceeded by the emotional savagery of all He had to undergo. All of humanity’s sin and suffering and all of those eternity’s worth of punishment was compressed into a short span of time. But we see Jesus… that he by the grace of God should taste death for every man. (Hebrews 2.9) It is literally indescribable.

The Valley of the Shadow of Death
Roger Fenton, 1855

          Sixth, Jesus suffered the final suffering of us all, death. We will all walk through that long valley – some of us with a slow and lingering tread, others rushed through on angel’s wings – but if the Lord tarry His coming all of us will walk it. As in all other things, He went before us even here. He closed His eyes, knowing yet not knowing what was on the other shore, trusting like we must that He would be raised incorruptible.

          Beloved, never forget, He went first. He felt and feels what we feel. He cares. He carried it all, not with His innate divinity, but in the power of the Spirit with the grace of God.

          And so can we.

Four Things God's Suffering Gives Us

 

Suffering 6

 

          Last week, we briefly examined the theological concept of impassivity – the idea that God does not experience suffering – and found it wanting. God suffers. Assuming I am right about that, what does this understanding bring us? How does the fact of God’s suffering help us?

          I propose it helps us in four ways. First, we have a God who notices us. Of course, we realize nothing escapes the gaze of an omniscient God. But beyond that, it is natural to notice when someone else is enduring what you have endured. I never played football. I can drive by a summer practice session at my local high school with nary a thought about it. But if you left everything you had on the hot dusty field of August two-a-days thirty years ago you still notice them when you drive by.

          The same thing is true of God. The Bible is the revelation of God, and in Exodus 3.7-10 it shows us a God who noticed the suffering of His people. And the Lord said, I have surely seen the affliction of my people which are in Egypt, and have heard their cry by reason of their taskmasters; for I know their sorrows; And I am come down to deliver them out of the hand of the Egyptians, and to bring them up out of that land unto a good land and a large, unto a land flowing with milk and honey; unto the place of the Canaanites, and the Hittites, and the Amorites, and the Perizzites, and the Hivites, and the Jebusites. Now therefore, behold, the cry of the children of Israel is come unto me: and I have also seen the oppression wherewith the Egyptians oppress them. Come now therefore, and I will send thee unto Pharaoh, that thou mayest bring forth my people the children of Israel out of Egypt.

          The Father understands suffering. You do not taste it unnoticed by Him.

          Second, we have a God who weeps when we weep. As our Father, can He do anything else? Many years ago, I quietly paused outside my son’s bedroom door. As many parents do, I was checking on him just before I went to bed. I cracked the door quietly so as not to disturb a seven year old boy’s slumber. As my eyes adjusted to the dark, I saw him sitting up, rocking back and forth very quietly but very intensely, the kind of movement done by a child in emotional pain. Several times in the next few days I gently tried to ask him what was wrong that night but I never got an answer. He never repeated the action to my knowledge. Yet how often through these years have I thought of that night, and been grieved to think of my small son carrying his own grief, and been more grieved at my inability to help him with his. It is not an exact parallel with God and His own children, but enough of one that I think I understand it a bit. Fathers are marked deeply by their children’s suffering.

          I do not arrive at that by mere surmise; the revelation of God plainly tells us as much. The Weeping Prophet, Jeremiah, served a rebellious people haunted by sin and its accompanying sorrow. Jeremiah did not weep alone; God wept with him, and said as much. Oh that my head were waters, and mine eyes a fountain of tears, That I might weep day and night for the slain of the daughter of my people! (Jeremiah 9.1) This is the opening verse in a passage that ends six verses later with saith the Lord. (Jeremiah 9.6) Jeremiah wept. God noticed. And God wept.

          It then follows, third, we have a God who never asks us to go where He has not gone first. Put another way round, God has tasted the bitterness of rejection, the horror of a loved one’s transgressions, the despair of crushed dreams, and the anguish of a broken heart. Maybe I over-wrote that sentence. I do not want to make God human; He is not a man. (Numbers 23.19) But as every good leader has, He has gone first down the path He points us toward.

          Does He ask you to forgive an enemy? He understands what that is like. Does He ask you to love the unlovely? He understands what that is like? Does He ask you to have joy no matter how desperate the circumstance? He understands what that is like. Does He ask you to cultivate a heart at peace in spite of the storms that howl around you? He understands what that is like. And I could go on and on and on. He instructs us to weep with them that weep. (Romans 12.15) He has a right to instruct us to do so; He does so Himself, first.

          Fourth, then, it is apparent we have a God who cares. Again, we know this explicitly from revelation. Casting all your care upon him; for he careth for you. (I Peter 5.7) If I care about you what matters to you matters to me. There are things my wife cares about that I care about solely for that reason – it matters to her so it matters to me. She and I have lived life together so closely for so long now we almost instinctively care about the same things the same way to the same extent. And God is immeasurably better at this than I am.

          What matters to you matters to Him. Are you lonely? It matters to Him. Are you frustrated with your health? It matters to Him. Are you in despair over a loved one? It matters to Him. Are you fearful of the future? It matters to Him. Are you grieved at America’s direction? It matters to Him.

          You do not suffer alone. He suffers, too.