In the early days of the Covid outbreak, Amy and I had a family member hospitalized on a respirator with an uncertain future. Likewise, at the same time, we had other friends who were fighting for their lives. At the same time, we were dealing with several other emotionally and spiritually challenging issues. Like so many others, we were hurting.
As believers think about suffering, our minds often go to the story of Job in the Old Testament. Any reading of the first chapter of that book will bring a heaviness to your heart as you read about how Job received one blow after another.
Contrary to popular Christian opinion, the Book of Job isn’t about why good people suffer. Instead, the central takeaway from this narrative is that good people suffer, and we don’t know why. This is why we lament. That’s a word we don’t use much in 21st Century life. A dictionary definition of this word is “a passionate expression of grief or sorrow.”
I like to think of it this way. Lament is God-centered, deep grief that balances human emotion and a deep trust in a living God who is actively involved in the lives of His people. Many committed and tenacious disciples worldwide exhibit this sober approach to faith every day.
When we first started our ministry in Iraq, we saw such a joyful response to the gospel that was deeply rooted in an understanding that believers often suffer. These lovely people understood suffering. Why? Because each of them had their own story of deep, experiential pain. The church grew in numbers, but it was also dynamic in faith.
However, after a few years, “normalcy” and prosperity returned to the country. As this happened, that understanding of suffering shrank further in the rearview mirror. The result? The church continued to grow, but the depth of belief seemed to become more shallow as there were many more distractions to compete with the daily disciplines of faith. And, who wants to think about lament when everything is going well?
I don’t pretend to know God’s grand purpose in allowing suffering into our lives and the world. I’m sure there are some people out there that are convinced suffering is God’s judgment on me and the world when things aren’t going well. Others are equally convinced that suffering has nothing to do with God’s judgment. Honestly, I don’t think we know. After all, “Who has known the mind of the Lord” (1 Cor. 2:16). What I do know is that how we respond to the crises we face has the potential to lead us to a deeper walk with Jesus or hinder that process.
We know many people who have suffered much more pain and loss than we have, but we have experienced our share of deep sorrow in other forms. The reality is it hurts. Some of these things happened years ago, but they still hurt. The scars are there and many. Pain and suffering have driven me to my knees–not always in prayer, but like someone who has been punched in the stomach. What I have learned is that while I’m down there on my knees, my heart grows stronger as I lift my tear-stained face toward a loving God. May we all grow in our faith as we express a God-centered, deep grief for the pain around us, while at the same time holding onto him tightly as our only hope in this storm.
Maranatha!