Reflecting on the role of suffering in the heart of faith, Dietrich Bonhoeffer once wrote: “Here is the decisive difference between Christianity and all religions. Man’s religiosity makes him look in his distress to the power of God in the world: God is the deus ex machina. The Bible directs man to God’s powerlessness and suffering: only a suffering God can help” (Letters and Papers from Prison). Bonhoeffer’s comment alludes to the difference between an “Elohim” (אֱלהִים) conception of God as the omnipotent power and Judge of reality, and the “YHVH” (יהוה) conception of God as the compassion Source and Breath of life – the Suffering God who empties himself to partake of our condition – to know our pain, to bear our sorrows, to heal us from the sickness of spiritual death, and to touch us in the loneliness of our exile… The Spirit enables us to “groan” in compassion, directing us away from the impulse to “kill the pain” to accept it as part of our lament and need for connection with God.
Hebrew Lesson
Lamentations 2:13 Hebrew reading:
Unlike cognitive faith (i.e., emunah: אֱמוּנָה) that assents to theological conformities, trust (i.e., bittachon: בִּטָחוֹן) emotionally commits to God’s presence in the sorrows of our lives and retains hope that we are not finally alone, abandoned, helpless… Trust goes beyond the “idolatries of theology,” that is, various theological conceptions of God as impassive, inexpressive, and distant in his decrees of transcendence, to engage God personally, existentially, and from within the whirlwind of harrowing pain and pain’s great loneliness. Authentic theology is dialectical or “dialogical” — a conversation of the heart with God – seeking, yearning, protesting, lamenting, and struggling with life’s inscrutabilities and unfathomable questions as it appeals to God for the assurance of genuine hope. Trust finds courage to give voice to our sorrow and fears, inviting God into the midst of our brokenness, often yielding to tearful silence in unknowing expectation. As Dorothy Soelle wrote: “Prayer is an all-encompassing act by which people transcend the mute God of an apathetically endured reality and go over to the speaking God of a reality experience with feeling in pain and happiness” (Soelle: Suffering). This is perhaps the deepest meaning of the Shema – to listen for God’s heart in the midst of your struggle; it is learning to encounter God’s compassion in the place of your brokenness and need.
“Unto thee O Lord, do I lift up my soul” (Psalm 25:1). Before we can lift up our soul as an offering before the LORD in sacrifice, that is, yielding to his will, surrendering our desires, our hopes, yea, our very lives to him, we must first be broken and confess our heart’s unwillingness to let go of its pain, its mistrust, and its cowardly evasion of suffering.
Hebrew Lesson
Psalm 25:1 Hebrew reading:
When I feel hopeless, I seek hope; when in pain, I seek comfort; when in despair over besetting sins, I yearn again for a place I can call home… In the midst of these things, my heart wonders whether my suffering has come because I deserve it or somehow “need” it. I reason that it may make sense that God extends special care for his godly ones, for those who are righteous and who seem free from the vexation of despair, but does it make sense for me, one who is undone, broken, alone, and unworthy? My heart protests that this is not the whole story of my life, and that more to be said. I need God and I know that he cares for me. I recall his promises to heal us, to bind up the broken of heart, and extend his comfort for our afflictions. Might pain herald the advent of something new to come? Might there be a deeper beauty and surpassing good as we go “through the wound” instead of objecting to it?
“In time of trouble say: “First, He brought me here. It is by His will I am in this straight place; in that I will rest. Next, He will keep me here in His love, and give me grace to behave as His child. Then, He will make the trial a blessing, teaching me the lessons He intends me to learn, and working in me the grace He means to bestow. Last, In His good time He can bring me out again – how and when He knows. [Therefore] let me say I am here, (1) By God’s appointment; (2) in his keeping; (3) Under His training; and (4) for His time.” (Andrew Murray)
Deep within I discover that I can bless the Lord, losing sight of myself as I affirm my deepest purpose and heritage: “My (boundary) lines have fallen to me in pleasant places; indeed, my inheritance is beautiful to me” (Psalm 16:6). Though I might have felt bereft and even tempted to curse my estate, by God’s grace I am made able to give thanks and to bless, even in the midst of my troubles and pain: “I will bless the LORD who has counseled me; my conscience disciplines me in the night” (Psalm 16:7). Therefore שִׁוִּיתִי יְהוָה לְנֶגְדִּי תָמִיד – “I have set the Lord always before me” – especially in desperate moments when I can barely endure – since I have learned that “because he is at my right hand, I shall not come undone” (Psalm 16:8). God gives me strength to renew my hope: therefore “my heart is made glad, my whole being rejoices, and my body rests in trust” (Psalm 16:9).
Hebrew Lesson
Psalm 16:9 Hebrew reading:
Suffering and hope, the two go together… Separate one from the other and you become unbalanced and double-minded (i.e., δίψυχος, “two-souled”). Those who turn away from hope in their suffering fall into despair; those who hope to turn away from suffering enter into delusion. The message of suffering presents both the call to hope and offers us comfort. Only the One who suffers “with us” (עִמָּנוּ אֵל), who clothes himself with our sorrows, our infirmities, and who understands the cry of our hearts can help truly help us. “If I must boast, I will boast about the things that show my weakness; for God has said: “My grace is enough for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” So then, I will boast most gladly about my weaknesses, so that the power of Messiah may reside in me” (2 Cor. 11:30, 12:9).
…