The Beauty of Suffering

 

Suffering 15

 

          The last time I spoke to him was a week ago. The last message I received from him ended with him saying, “I look forward to meeting you and sharing a meal together.” I will not speak to him again this side of Glory. The first meal we share will be the Marriage Supper of the Lamb. Just a few short days ago, an Iraqi militia bracketed his car in Baghdad, poured bullets into it, and ushered him violently into eternity. Cut down in the prime of life just as his ministry was beginning to bear fruit, his wife suddenly widowed and his children fatherless, ‘tis tempting indeed to scream “Why?!” at the God who allowed it.

          One of the primary reasons I am writing this blog series on suffering is an attempt to prove that there are answers to these heart-rending questions. I have already given you several – suffering is consequence, suffering is judgment, and suffering is the school that forms us into the image of Christ. Additionally, suffering is necessary if free will is to exist. Today, we come to a superior reason for the existence of suffering: God uses it to produce or create good, something better than would have otherwise existed.

          We see this both directly and indirectly in the Word of God. Directly, it can be found in the well-known Romans 8.28. And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose. Was Stephen Troell called according to His purpose? Assuredly. Then will God somehow use even this brutal evil to produce good? Just as assuredly.

“All things” here implies not just things we instinctively view as good but also those things that are arguably not good. I propose it would even include things that are inarguably not good. In some way, though God does not create evil in the sense of sinful evil, He uses even the devil’s vicious hatred and desire to inflict harm to produce something truly beautiful. I say again, suffering is beautiful.

Indirectly, we can see via Paul’s wondrous soliloquy on his thorn in the flesh.

2 Corinthians 12:7–10

7 And lest I should be exalted above measure through the abundance of the revelations, there was given to me a thorn in the flesh, the messenger of Satan to buffet me, lest I should be exalted above measure.

8 For this thing I besought the Lord thrice, that it might depart from me.

9 And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.

10 Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ’s sake: for when I am weak, then am I strong.

          The thorn, sent directly from Satan to buffet him, instead produced new strength as the power of Christ rested upon him.

          The devil is a pervert. By that, I mean he twists things out of their intended path in order to harm God. He does it with sexuality, most obviously, but in a myriad of other ways as well. Yet he never succeeds in accomplishing his evil intent for God does it right back to him. God takes the devil’s purpose or aim and twists it to produce or create some good that otherwise would not have existed.

“Power” in the above passage is similar to influence in the original language. Satan’s attack only increased or furthered Paul’s influence for Christ. It deepened Paul as a Christian and caused his impact to widen in its scope. “Strength” here means able or competent. It speaks to an increase in skill and thus an ability to do more. Satan’s attack made Paul a better leader, pastor, mentor, friend, writer, soul winner, and Christian. The devil’s intent brought suffering to Paul and from that suffering God created something good. Is not that beautiful?

Aside from our Saviour, what biblical character suffered the most? Many people would say Job did. Yet look what Job’s suffering – directly instigated by Satan – produced: the first book of the Bible penned. The comfort that has thus flowed from Job’s suffering is literally indescribable in its extent.

          Let us turn, once again, to Christ. The devil attacked Him with all the fury at Hell’s command. Yet what was the result? Christ’s suffering produced the devil’s own destruction, humanity’s redemption, indeed, the redemption of the cosmos itself and the end of sin. The devil’s intent brought suffering to Christ and from that suffering God created something good.

          We see this most explicitly, perhaps, aside from Christ in the life of Joseph. Years after his enslaved and imprisoned years he said to his brothers, But as for you, ye thought evil against me; but God meant it unto good, to bring to pass, as it is this day, to save much people alive. (Genesis 50.20) The devil’s intent lashed Joseph’s soul with pain yet from the pain God created something good.

          In each of these cases – Paul, Job, Jesus, and Joseph – we see that the person in question experienced deep suffering but the good that resulted went much further than just them. It was a good that passed through them on to others.

          So often, we make the Job mistake; we view suffering only or primarily through the lens of ourselves. “I suffered. I did not get better. Nothing got better for me.” I would disagree with that for when God enrolled you in the school of suffering He gave you a golden opportunity to grow into His image. But setting that aside, your personal advantage is not the point. It is not about you.

          There is nothing selfish about Christianity, including suffering and God’s use of that suffering in my life. I do not suffer for me; I suffer for you. Through my suffering, I minister or transfer the good that God is creating. I do not mean this unkindly, but it is not about you so stop measuring it with your measuring stick. It is about God’s work through you benefiting others.

          I can show you this in a thousand ways in real life. In 1994, a sex offender unknowingly moved in across the street from an innocent family. In his vile sin, he killed a girl in that family, a seven year old known as Megan. And Megan’s Law has saved how many lives in the decades since? C. H. Spurgeon, that prince of preachers, became too sick to pastor or preach for lengthy periods of time. Much of his writing, including the matchless commentary on the Psalms, The Treasury of David, was produced in such times. My last book, Next, was directly birthed as a result of a painfully long delayed transition from one pastorate to the next. If everything I had planned had come off smoothly that book would not exist. Leaf through a hymnal at church and you will discover a multitude of songs birthed through the writer’s suffering. “It is Well with My Soul” was the result of the drowning of the author's four daughters. “What a Friend We Have in Jesus” was written after the death of the author’s fiancé. “No One Ever Cared for Me Like Jesus” was produced by a man determined to follow the Lord’s will even though his wife left him over it. And I could go on and on and on.

          I can hear his words now, the smile in his voice, the love in his heart, as he said at the end of that last two minute Signal message, “I look forward to meeting you and sharing a meal together”, a voice stilled forever via an angry Muslim’s bullet. I have wept much this week thinking of his children now fatherless, his wife a widow, and his converts at the mercy of the wolves around them. Yet in that sorrow I know this deep in my soul – God is at work. Yes, God is at work, and with this suffering He will produce something breathtakingly beautiful in its goodness.

          I say again, suffering is beautiful.