The Suffering of God

 

Suffering 5

         

 

          Four centuries before the birth of Christ, Aristophanes wrote the play, “The Frogs.” The Greeks back in the day were lovers of good theater. In the play, the god Dionysius and his slave, Xanthius, are traveling through Hades in order to resurrect a dead poet. As traveling companions sometimes do, they get into an argument and both claim to be gods. To settle the argument they establish a test. They will both endure a flogging; the first one to flinch is not a god.

          The idea conveyed here is a very human one: to be God is to be above pain, sorrow, and suffering. This idea is fed in the Christian orbit by our understanding of the permanent Heaven; it is a place with no death, no tears, and no sorrow. And it will be. But that permanent Heaven does not exist yet. And the present Heaven is the home of the God who has suffered and still does suffer abundantly.

          Theologically, the concept that God does not suffer is labeled the impassibility of God. It argues that because God is entirely self-contained He cannot be influenced by any external force or power. After all, if God is all-powerful, eternal, unchanging, and transcendent He cannot suffer just like He cannot sin.

          I think this theological concept does an injustice to God. Yes, He is all-powerful, eternal, unchanging, and transcendent. We learn these things in the Bible. Foundationally, the Bible is the revelation of God. And that revelation shows us a God who suffers deeply. I accept that God is all-powerful, that He cannot be damaged, but it does not then follow that He is impervious to feeling, an emotionless, remote being. No, everything I read about God in the Scripture screams that He is not untouched by suffering, that He is not unaffected by anything outside of Himself. He is sovereign, but it does not then follow that He is apathetic.

What proof do I offer that this is so, that God indeed suffers? If suffering is loss I would first argue that God has suffered tremendous loss in His relationships. One of His first and most intimate of relationships was with Lucifer. He was the greatest of His first creation, the angels. They worked together in sweet harmony for untold millennia. Then the devil turned on God. The Father was forced to kick him out of Heaven, and that deep, long-held relationship was shattered irreparably. Along with that loss, and directly because of it, the Father lost His human creation, man. The gulf that now exists between humanity and God is so vast it took the cross to span it. Open the pages of your Bible and read of Hosea and Gomer, a life story designed to reveal the intimate pain in the relationship between God and Israel, and tell me God does not suffer. Look at Christ hanging on the tree between two thieves, hanging there because of us and for us, and tell me God does not suffer. As Stuart Townsend said so well,

                           How deep the Father’s love for us,

How vast beyond all measure

That He should give His only Son

And make a wretch His treasure.

How great the pain of searing loss.

The Father turns His face away,

As wounds which mar the chosen One

Bring many sons to glory. 

          If suffering is loss, I would argue, second, that sin causes the Father to suffer. The hordes of humanity produce mountains of sin, and it grieves Him endlessly. And God saw that the wickedness of man was great in the earth, and that every imagination of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually. And it repented the Lord that he had made man on the earth, and it grieved him at his heart. (Genesis 6.5-6) Go ahead. Try to tell me that was only before the Flood, that He is not now grieved likewise by the enormity and plentitude of sin. In the original language, “grieved” here means hurt, emotionally pained. Its root is the same as that for the word “lament.” He suffered then and He suffers now.

          My third argument finds it source in that very word lament. Lament is a deeper idea than mere complaint. It is the expression of a being scarred deeply by loss, by pain, by suffering. Lament is what Job pours out. Lament is what the psalmist hurls at God. And God Himself uses this language of lament, the same kind of language that Job and David used. When Israel made the awful decision not to enter Canaan following the spies return The Lord said unto Moses, How long will this people provoke me? And how long will it be ere they believe me, for all the signs which I have shewed among them? …How long shall I bear with this evil congregation, which murmur against me? (Numbers 14.11, 27)

          No, beloved, it is a grievous calumny against God to assert He does not suffer. Yes, He is all-powerful and cannot be damaged, but suffering is not the same as weakness. To say suffering is the same as weakness is to take a Darwinian view of the matter. Suffering can come through being weak, through being victimized, but it can come outside of those means too. God is not weak, no, but He does suffer. He can be affected by us, by our decision to turn every one to his own way (Isaiah 53.6), to embrace the sin His nature so abhors.

          Do you know why God hurts? He hurts because He loves. To love is to open yourself up. It is to lower the natural barriers between yourself and another person. It is to trust them, to invite them into yourself, into your life, your heart, your soul. It is to lower your defenses and invite another life into the center of your own. To love is to make yourself vulnerable, to open yourself up to joy and at the same time to risk pain. You cannot love without being hurt, without suffering loss, without suffering. The only way to protect yourself from that hurt is to remain detached, uninvolved, uncaring, unloving, aloof from it all. Does that last sentence sound anything like the God revealed in the pages of Holy Writ? Ten thousand times, no! God loves deeper than anyone you have ever met – which means God suffers deeper than anyone you have ever met.

          The saddest verse in the saddest book of the Bible just might be Jeremiah 13.17. Although the flow of thought is somewhat confusing, I believe God is speaking here. Listen to the raw grief of these words. But if ye will not hear it, my soul shall weep in secret places for your pride; and mine eye shall weep sore, and run down with tears, because the Lord’s flock is carried away captive.

          You are not alone in your suffering, beloved.

          He suffers too.

Grace for Suffering

Suffering 4

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 Ben Sinclair. He has served as a missionary in Cameroon for two decades. He writes here of what his family endured around the death of fellow missionary Charles Wesco in 2018. The Sinclair family returned full time to church planting in Cameroon in 2021. 

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My family and I have been church planting missionaries to Africa for over twenty years. God has incredibly blessed us. Several years ago, we began earnestly praying that God would send us coworkers in order to further the work of the ministry on our field. In 2015, we met Charles and Stephanie Wesco. God knit our hearts and called them to labor with us in Cameroon.

During the Wescos’ deputation ministry, two of the ten regions in Cameroon made a declaration of independence, and a civil war ensued. The dangers were real, and the noise of gun battles was common. We sought the Lord for direction. We sought godly counsel. After weeks of praying, fasting, and making every preparation and policy possible to minister in a war-torn nation as safely as possible, God confirmed that He wanted us to remain in Cameroon preaching the Gospel and making disciples (Matthew 10:16).

The Wescos had to prayerfully make their decision as well. In obedience to God, Charles Wesco boarded a plane with his wife and eight children in October 2018. I was thrilled to pick them up at the airport and to welcome them “home” to Cameroon.

Just twelve days after their arrival, the unthinkable happened. On a routine trip to town, we were attacked. Brother Charles was mortally wounded by the first gunshot and was pronounced dead at the hospital. Stephanie, Charles Jr., and I were supernaturally protected and escaped from the gunshots and flying glass without even a scratch. Unexplainably, Stephanie’s window did not break from the shotgun blasts, and she walked away from the attack, though drenched from head to toe in her husband’s blood, physically uninjured. The shot headed toward me in the driver’s seat embedded in the windshield but did not pass through. The shot that passed by Brother Charles riddled his son’s seat and headrest, but Charles Jr. left the car unscathed.

As you can only imagine, we were all devastated. The military escorted our team out of the region the next day. We accompanied Stephanie and the children back to Indiana to be with her family. The suffering, doubts, and fears were terrible. We had to leave our friends, neighbors, and ministries with little more than the clothes on our backs. We did not even get to say goodbye to those with whom we had ministered, loved, and invested for so many years.

I kept blaming myself for praying for coworkers. I blamed myself for inviting the Wescos. I questioned what I could have done preceding the attack to prevent it. The nightmares were also awful. I hated going to sleep. I would wake up reliving the attack or imagining the shooters returning for me and my family time and time again.

So what happened? What did we do? We returned to our home church in Tennessee. I remember driving into the driveway of a mission house in Chattanooga. I turned around in my seat, looked at my family, and said, “I’m going to be honest with you. I have no idea what is next for us. I don’t know how long we will be staying here or where we are going next. But I promise you this. If you keep trusting and following your father, I will keep seeking, following, and trusting my Father.”

I found grace in seeking the Lord every day. Even though I was a broken man, I thank God for His precious promise to those humble and contrite enough to seek Him in their brokenness. David wrote, “The Lord is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart; and saveth such as be of a contrite spirit” (Psalm 34:18). We had our ups and downs, to be sure. However, the most significant help came from those intimate times with the Lord each morning in His Word and prayer. Healing gradually came to our family as we gathered around the coffee table each evening for family discipleship. We read, prayed, sang, and cried together in the presence of the Balm of Gilead.

I found grace in good music. I never doubted that God was real or present during those dark days, but I did argue and fight with Him. One day I was meditating on the words of a song by Ron Hamilton. It states,

I could not see through the shadows ahead;

So I looked at the cross of my Savior instead.

I bowed to the will of the Master that day;

Then peace came and tears fled away.

O Rejoice in the LORD

He makes no mistake,

He knoweth the end of each path that I take,

For when I am tried

And purified,

I shall come forth as gold.

 

I realized then that I had not bowed my will to the Master. I had taken responsibility for Brother Wesco’s death on myself. I humbly bowed my heart and confessed that I am not big, strong, or even stupid and incompetent enough to mess up God’s plan. God had a will for all of us that day. He accomplished His will despite me. The tears still flow freely from time to time, but I can honestly say with the author of the song “peace came.” I began to rejoice in the assurance that “He makes no mistake, He knoweth the end of each path that I take.” Biblical, spiritual music ministered to my soul.

I found grace in supportive friends. Of course, there were critics who said that Brother Wesco and I were fools for taking our families into a war zone in obedience to the Great Commission (Mark 16:15). Thankfully, there were many more who assured us of their love and prayers. God used believers to minister to us and to encourage us with messages and gifts. It amazes me how people going through trials often drop out of church and avoid their Christian brothers and sisters. The body of Christ was a huge help in our healing process! God also specifically used my pastor and our field administrator to listen and minister to our family.

I mentioned the nightmares. For literally months, I experienced nightmares on and off. Finally, I told a close friend who pastors one of our supporting churches that I was suffering from these reoccurring nightmares. After an evening service, he called for the men of the church to join us in a side room for a special prayer time. The men of the church surrounded me, placed their hands on my shoulders, and earnestly, tearfully prayed for my family and me. The pastor lifted his voice and asked God to deliver me from my nightmares – and He did. That prayer meeting was nearly three years ago. I can count on the fingers of one hand how many times I have woken up from nightmares since then. I thank God for friends willing to pray, encourage, sacrifice, sit with, and love those who are suffering.

I found grace in obediently serving the Lord. I vividly remember sitting on the plane as we flew back to the United States, asking the Lord, “What are You doing? You called me to be a missionary to Cameroon. Why am I on a plane flying back to the U.S.? What do You want me to do in America? God put a burden on my heart to take the testimony of Brother Wesco across America. For the next year, I preached more than 100 times in churches, schools, and Bible colleges in Maine and Florida in the East to California in the West. God saved souls. God called scores of people to missions, and God specifically called more than 20 people to step up and fill the gap in Cameroon. The first missionary family to join the ministry in Cameroon is presently on deputation. Praise the Lord!

I found grace in being thankful for my suffering. Paul wrote to the suffering, persecuted, impoverished church in Philippi. “Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God” (Philippians 4:6). Bring your burdens to God with thanksgiving? Does God expect us to thank Him for our suffering? Yes. He does.

Months after we were attacked and Brother Wesco was killed, I sat at a missions conference listening to the keynote speaker. I asked the Lord, “What am I doing at this conference? I am not preaching, and this is not one of our supporting churches.” I thought I was there to minister, but I learned that God brought me there to be ministered to. During that message, the Holy Spirit convicted me about being thankful for the tragedy that impacted our family and ministry. I had thanked God in my prayers for how He was using Brother Wesco’s death for His glory, but God wanted me to come to Him with genuine, sincere gratitude for our suffering.

I argued with God. “How can I thank you for that horrific event? How can I thank you for leaving Stephanie a widow and her eight children fatherless? How can I thank you for forcing us to leave the place and the ministry where we raised our family and invested the best years of our lives? How can I thank you for the death of my friend and coworker?” Because He said to thank Him. That’s the Christian’s duty. Believe what He says to believe, and do what He says to do (trust and obey) – despite your circumstances and feelings.

Even though I was a missionary at that conference, I was one of the first to my knees during the invitation to pour out my heart to God in prayer and supplication. I genuinely thanked God for the suffering! I immediately experienced “the peace of God, which passeth all understanding.” God promised that when you bring your burdens to Him with thanksgiving, He “shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:6-7). What a powerful promise! God’s deep and enduring peace comes to thankful hearts.

I confess that my suffering is small when compared to others. I am, however, thankful that God’s grace and presence are available to every suffering saint – no matter the degree of suffering. Suffering is a part of life in this broken world. Nevertheless, grace is available through Jesus Christ to all, and glory is His goal.

“But the God of all grace, who hath called us unto his eternal glory by Christ Jesus, after that ye have suffered a while, make you perfect, stablish, strengthen, settle you. To him be glory and dominion for ever and ever. Amen.” (1 Peter 5:10-11)

Fourteen Sufferings Rolled Into One

 

Suffering 3

 

          One of the unvarnished laws of teaching is the law of language: the language of the teacher and the student have to be the same. This is true of English, in the case of this blog, but it is even more true of the various shades of meaning of words. “Laser” implies something different to a nine-year old Star Wars fan than to a fifty-five year old physicist.

Words mean things; they have context. In reference to spiritual things, the better I understand that context, the larger sense of meaning behind the word and how it is being used, the more I will understand the things God intended to tell me in His Word. Ergo, in any thematic study of Scripture I attempt to come to a sound understanding of the term/concept under examination.

The word “suffer” is found 161 times in the King James Version. Most of the time it means allow, let, or permit, as in the first use, Genesis 20.6. And God said unto him in a dream, Yea, I know that thou didst this in the integrity of thy heart; for I also withheld thee from sinning against me: therefore suffered I thee not to touch her. Though this represents the majority, there are also numerous uses in both the Old and New Testament that relate specifically to what you and I understand as suffering. In the OT, most often this carries the connotation carry, wait, and starve. In the NT, most often this carries the connotation endure or bear. In the original language, the underlying words translated “suffer” are also translated as thirst, took away, cast off, hunger, famished, destitute, bear, bare, carry, endure, forbear, vexed, felt, passion, leave, left, forsook, affliction, persecution, wronged, injured, and reviled. The underlying original language sense of these words is described variously as suffer ruin, suffer pain, suffer punishment, suffer together, misery, suffer evil, labor pains, suffer loss, suffer violence, and to hurt.

Confining our attention only to the underlying original language words translated as some form of the word “suffer” in the King James Version we will discover there are fourteen of them. In today’s post, I am going to briefly show you all fourteen, and then summarize them into a single, understandable, biblical definition of suffering. For simplicity’s sake, I am going to transliterate these original language words into English.

In the Old Testament, there are two. The first is raeb, to hunger, be famished. Slothfulness casteth into a deep sleep; And an idle soul shall suffer hunger. (Proverbs 19.15) This is the idea of suffering because you are missing something or lacking something. It can include food, certainly, but it can be many things i.e. a widow suffering the lack of a companion, etc.

The second Old Testament term is nasa, to lift, carry, bear. O Lord, thou knowest: remember me, and visit me, and revenge me of my persecutors; take me not away in thy longsuffering: know that for thy sake I have suffered rebuke. (Jeremiah 15.15) The idea here is of carrying a burden over the long term. Jeremiah, known as the Weeping Prophet, had a ministry that consisted of decades of consecutive suffering. Moses endured Israel’s murmuring in the Wilderness for forty years. This is the kind of suffering those with chronic health conditions or a long term bad marriage endure. It is also worth mentioning, that by implication, this is something God has given me to carry. It is not something I have chosen for myself by my direct choice or indirect choice (consequences).

The other twelve terms are in the New Testament. There we find, third, pascho, to experience pain, to be vexed. From that time forth began Jesus to shew unto his disciples, how he must go unto Jerusalem, and suffer many things of the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and be raised again the third day. (Matthew 16.21) Pain here can be both physical or psychological pain.

It is worth noting before we move on that suffering and pain are not synonymous necessarily. One of the books I read in preparation for this series told the story of a young Jewish soldier whose leg was blown off via a mine. The soldier, a woman, was interviewed shortly afterward in the hospital. Weeping, she described her deep sorrow at the realization she would almost certainly now never get married. Her physical pain was real, but her underlying suffering, though connected to it, was much deeper.

Fourth is mello, a strengthened form of expect, this is my duty or purpose. But I say unto you, That Elias is come already, and they knew him not, but have done unto him whatsoever they listed. Likewise shall also the Son of man suffer of them. (Matthew 17.12) This is similar to the Old Testament nasa. This is suffering under a long term load it is your duty to carry. If I were to describe pastoring, for example, I would probably use this word.

Fifth is anechomai, to endure. Then Jesus answered and said, O faithless and perverse generation, how long shall I be with you? how long shall I suffer you? bring him hither to me. (Matthew 17.17) Sometimes, all you can do is grit your teeth. Sometimes, all you can do is put one foot in front of the other. Something has gone so badly and irretrievably wrong, and you are so deeply hurt that your response has been reduced to merely hanging on. You do not feel as if you are learning anything or gaining anything. You do not feel like it will ever get any better. You feel trapped in a horror movie and all you know how to do is keep-moving-forward. This is anechomai.

Sixth is sumpascho, to experience pain together. You can see the relation to our third term above. I used this passage last week. And if children, then heirs; heirs of God, and joint-heirs with Christ; if so be that we suffer with him, that we may be also glorified together. (Romans 8.17) This is a mutual suffering we are experiencing together. Carrying grief and sorrow and suffering alone is debilitating; having someone come alongside and carry it with you, even if it does not lessen the suffering, helps. In our context, this is the premise of support groups or their more biblical equivalent, churches.

Here let us pause for a beautiful thought. Other than suffering related to my rebellion and sin, as a child of God all my suffering is sumpascho. He is with me in it.

Seventh is pathema, to undergo hardship or affliction. For I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us. (Romans 8.18) Yesterday morning, after reading my Bible on the bench outside my window, I texted a preacher friend to tell him I was praying for him. He responded, “Thank you. Its been a long week and I appreciate it.” Some things are just hard, some seasons in life are just hard. They are temporary, but hard.

Eighth is zemioo, to receive damage, to suffer loss. If any man’s work shall be burned, he shall suffer loss: but he himself shall be saved; yet so as by fire. (I Corinthians 3.15) This is similar to our first term, the Hebrew raeb, which is to suffer because you lack something. You had what you needed but it was taken from you. This is the suffering of victims, and there are all kinds of victims i.e. crime, abuse, disaster, etc. Sometimes, it is just life that takes things away from you. Old age robs us of family, of friends, of health, of our independence, for example. In this particular passage, it is God that is doing the taking away.

He does that a lot.

Ninth is stego, to cover with silence, in other words, to endure quietly. If others be partakers of this power over you, are not we rather? Nevertheless we have not used this power; but suffer all things, lest we should hinder the gospel of Christ. (I Corinthians 9.12) Mature Christians do not generally broadcast their suffering; they endure quietly. This is not stoicism; it is resignation. This is “God sent it to me and I accept it.”

By definition, this kind of suffering is rarely noticed. I can almost guarantee that every good Christian of your acquaintance is experiencing it. They are bleeding on the inside silently.

Tenth is dioko, persecution. And I, brethren, if I yet preach circumcision, why do I yet suffer persecution? Then is the offence of the cross ceased. (Galatians 5.11) This is suffering specifically because of my belief and practice. Peter expands on this superbly in his first epistle.

Eleventh is thlibo, to crowd, a host of afflictions. For verily, when we were with you, we told you before that we should suffer tribulation; even as it came to pass, and ye know. (I Thessalonians 3.4) Troubles comes in packs. The psalmist said, and notice the plural, Deep calleth unto deep at the noise of thy waterspouts: All thy waves and thy billows are gone over me. (Psalm 42.7)

This is why tribulation is a good word here. At any given time, several people I pastor are in this predicament. They do not have one grievously heavy burden; they have several. Each one would be enough to stagger the average Christian, but God is pressing them, developing them, driving them deeper into Himself by layering burden on top of burden on top of burden.

Twelfth is oneidizo, to defame, revile, rail. For therefore we both labour and suffer reproach, because we trust in the living God, who is the Saviour of all men, specially of those that believe. (I Timothy 4.10) Reviling is different than persecution. They both cause us to endure suffering, but reviling is only verbal. It still hurts, and understandably so, but the distinction is worth noting.

Thirteenth is hupomeno, to stay under, abide, persevere with the idea of patience. If we suffer, we shall also reign with him: if we deny him, he also will deny us. (II Timothy 2.12) This is similar to five, anechomai, endure. This is a suffering that I live in, that abides. The difference between this and anechomai is the stress is placed here upon patience under suffering. Good pastoring and good barbecue both take time. In exactly this way, God holds us in suffering for extended seasons, sometimes our entire lives, that the beautiful image of Christ may be formed in us.

Fourteenth is sugkakoucheo, to torment. Choosing rather to suffer affliction with the people of God, than to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season. (Hebrews 11.25) God is referencing Moses here, and by extension the Jews in Egypt. The pharaohs were purposely inflicting pain and suffering on them as a form of institutional ethnic control. The Chinese government is doing exactly this with the Uyghurs at the moment. It is the epitome of injustice, and God hears the cries of those so afflicted.

We could spend several more weeks examining the biblical synonyms for suffering. By one count I read, there are nineteen distinct Hebrew terms related to suffering in Isaiah 53, for example. But I think we can fairly summarize all of this in one relatively simple definition: suffering is loss.

Sometimes, I lose bodily strength. Other times, I lose peace of mind. I lose freedom. I lose choice. I lose comfort. I lose strength. I lose happiness. I lose people I love. I lose health. I lose success or accomplishment. I lose the respect of others. I lose my desire for life. I lose ease. I lose possessions or money. I lose attention. I lose love. I lose the future. I lose my life. I lose Heaven. Illustrate suffering any way you want, biblically or practically, the result is the same – loss.

You cannot live life without suffering, without experiencing loss. Since the Garden of Eden this has been so and will be until the advent of the New Heaven and the New Earth. No, you cannot live without suffering, but understanding that helps you to accept it. Accepting it helps you to deal with it.

Like the life it always comes along with, suffering can be spent well or spent badly. It is going to come; it is inevitable. Yet man is born to trouble, As the sparks fly upward. (Job 5.7) We do, though, get to choose how to respond to it. We can spend it well or spend it badly.

May the Lord give you and me the grace and wisdom to respond well.

Suffering With Him

 

Suffering 2

 

          Last week, we began an intensive study of suffering in the Word of God. Although we instinctively seek to avoid it, we could almost say that suffering is the human condition, and has been since the Garden of Eden. Cursed is the ground for thy sake; in sorrow shalt thou eat of it all the days of thy life; Thorns also and thistles shall it bring forth to thee; and thou shalt eat the herb of the field; In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto the ground. (Genesis 3.17-19)

          In suffering, as in so many other things, the Christian perspective is exactly opposite the perspective of the natural man. Paul expresses mature Christianity when he says in Philippians 3 that he desires to know Christ and experience the deep intimate fellowship with Him that comes with suffering.

          In today’s post, I want to give you two thoughts that flow from this understanding. First, this sweetly intimate fellowship with Him is found in suffering.

Fellowship is something we usually associate with a good time. I grew up in church. From the time I can remember, I looked forward to church fellowships. That was the term our pot-luck or carry-in dinners was called by – a fellowship. Here in Iowa, I found the same thing. Good food plus the enjoyable company of God’s people equals fellowship.

I understand that Philippians is the epistle of rejoicing, but that rejoicing was not Paul enjoying good food in the company of God’s people. It was Paul, in the midst of deep personal suffering, finding joy in God alone. We must never forget that the joy Paul experienced here was not found in the absence of suffering; no, he tasted that joy from the bowels of a Roman dungeon because he found sweet fellowship with Christ in his suffering.

The simple truth is the normal Christian life is a suffering life. The sufferings of Christ abound in us. (II Corinthians 1.5) [I] rejoice in my sufferings for you, and fill up that which is behind of the afflictions of Christ in my flesh. (Colossians 1.24) Rejoice, inasmuch as ye are partakers of Christ’s sufferings; that, when his glory shall be revealed, ye may be glad also with exceeding joy. (I Peter 4.13) Contrary to what Joel Osteen heretically asserts, God did not call you to be healthy, happy, and rich. He called you to partake of His sufferings, to walk ever more closely with Him as you endure that suffering.

The maturity and cost of Paul’s prayer staggers me. Paul wanted Christ even if the price was massive pain. And God answered Paul’s prayer here, did He not? …in labours more abundant, in stripes above measure, in prisons more frequent, in deaths oft. Of the Jews five times received I forty stripes save one. Thrice was I beaten with rods, once was I stoned, thrice I suffered shipwreck, a night and a day I have been in the deep; In journeyings often, in perils of waters, in perils of robbers, in perils by mine own countrymen, in perils by the heathen, in perils in the city, in perils in the wilderness, in perils in the sea, in perils among false brethren;  In weariness and painfulness, in watchings often, in hunger and thirst, in fastings often, in cold and nakedness. Beside those things that are without, that which cometh upon me daily, the care of all the churches. (II Corinthians 11.23-28) Not to mention, Paul’s life would end at the hands of Nero’s executioners.

At the same time, who can deny that Paul knew Christ, and knew His power in a way perhaps no other human being ever has? Gather a hundred orthodox theologians, and ninety of them will postulate that Paul was perhaps the greatest Christian to ever live. It cannot be a coincidence that Paul also knew the fellowship of Christ’s sufferings as well.

Having dwelt upon the cost first let me now show you the benefit. Second, suffering with Him brought Paul into intimate fellowship with Christ. We suffer, not just for Him, but with Him. Together. And if children, then heirs; heirs of God, and joint-heirs with Christ; if so be that we suffer with him, that we may be also glorified together. (Romans 8.17)

A simplistic yet accurate definition of fellowship is two fellows in the same ship. They have the exact same set of circumstances i.e. weather, current, condition of the boat, food available, etc. Everything that happens to one of them also happens to the other. If the ship is torpedoed, both of them go into the water. If the ship comes into port safely, they both arrive on shore. In the original language, the root word is partner or common, and is defined as share, intimacy, communion.

There is very little that produces a genuinely deep relationship together more than common suffering. Football players develop intense bonds because they endure the heat of an August practice field together, and the joint struggle against fierce opposition to overcome the other team. A soldier who spends nine months in combat will forever remain close to the men with whom he served.

Mandy and I have our lives so intermingled at this point it would be well-nigh impossible to sever them. Why? We stood in the snow of a December hill side and buried a daughter together. We served a tiny church in a fly-speck Pennsylvania town together. We endured sixteen years in inner-city Chicago together. We have parented three children, with all of the accompanying pressure and stress, together. We have fought Meniere’s disease for twelve years together. We have been through the wars, together. She held up her end of the load and I held up mine. I trust her and she trusts me. We have fought, clawed, scratched, bled, worked, and cried, together. We have been slandered, criticized, attacked, misunderstood, and ignored, together. Along the way we discovered something: where there once was two the heat of battle has forged us into one.

Paul wanted to know Him. If so, he had to be willing to pay the price of suffering together with Him. It hurts to say it, beloved, but there is no other way into a truly sweet and deeply intimate relationship with God Himself.

As a teenager, I yielded myself to the Lord and He took me into loneliness. As a young adult, I yielded myself to the Lord and He took me into pain. As a young pastor, I yielded myself to the Lord and He took me into failure. As a young husband, I yielded myself to the Lord and He took me into death. As a maturing man, I yielded myself to the Lord and He took me into disease. As a middle-aged man, I yielded myself to Him and He took me into frustration. Truth be told, now I find myself weeping often for entirely different reasons than any that have gone before. But He has been with me in each of them as we two fellows in the same ship developed a rich relationship.

If you want deep fellowship with Him you must go through the door of suffering. But He will be with you in it. And you two will grow very close through it.