Date
Sunday, March 09, 2008

"Having a Heart for God"
Learning from our Sufferings

Sermon Preached by
The Rev. Dr. Andrew Stirling
Sunday, March 9, 2008
Text: Psalm 119:65-72


On reflection, it seems almost cruel to be talking about suffering as our theme. During the last few weeks I have met so many people who have suffered with colds and flues, and now we are inflicted with record snow storms and cold temperatures - we have had just about enough suffering, thank you very much! I am reminded about that great adage used in advertisements for a cold and flu remedy, “It tastes awful, but it works.” Indeed, it does taste awful and it may actually work! Sometimes something that makes us suffer also makes us feel better.

Yesterday, as I was digging out the driveway and my muscles were aching and I was feeling the cold, I recalled a manse I lived in a number of years ago that had a very long lawn. It was the middle of the summer and it was exceedingly hot. There I was mowing this lawn with a tiny lawn mower when one of the elders drove by, put his head out of the window and said, “Reverend, this will be the makings of you!” I'm afraid it did not do much good, did it? The sense that you need to suffer so something good can happen has become a mantra in our society. It has become an integral part of our psychology that at times it is good to suffer.

I read about a mistake that was made in the heading of an order of service. There was just one incorrect letter - but it spoke volumes! The heading said, “The Sunday service will begin with medication.” I think many Christians treat our faith as if it is, in fact, a medication, a way of dealing with our suffering. But suffering is a serious business. For all the patter about whether suffering is good for us, when you are suffering there is nothing humorous about it at all. In fact, one need only come into this church on any day to encounter someone who is suffering in some way.

A great writer said, “There is a sufferer in every pew, and if you preach to the suffering, you will always have an audience.” I felt this last week when I called a rabbi friend of mine to express my sincerest condolences on the shooting of those young students in the Yeshiva in Jerusalem. I expressed to him my profound regret and sorrow. He phoned me back a little while later and said, “Andrew, these are dark days, but your word brought a little bit of light. Thank you.”

Suffering can affect so many people - not only the sufferer, but also the people around the sufferer. It is such a part of the human condition. That is why, when I read a passage like today's from the Book of Psalms, I can't understand it at times. The psalmist wrote, “It is good for me to be afflicted in order that I might learn your decrees.” The more I read it, the more flummoxed I am. What did he mean?

Similarly, 1 Peter 4:13 says, “But you are to rejoice when you suffer for the right.” How can this suffering be good? I realize that to discuss suffering one has to categorize what one means. People suffer for many different reasons. Some suffer for doing good, for standing for what is right and holy. Often, they are belittled and ridiculed, and people talk behind their backs. There are those who suffer for standing for truth and justice all across the world.

Some people suffer for doing bad, and are incarcerated because they have committed a crime. They are punished because they have done something wrong, and that is just. Sometimes we suffer from guilt and the consequences of something we have done to someone else. And sometimes we suffer simply because we are human beings. We all suffer because we are weak, sinful and mortal; we are easily broken and damaged. For the sufferer, there is no clear reason as to why they are suffering. It is hard to know, just like Job, why we have difficulties and challenges. If we have a disease, if we are being excluded and ostracized, if we are being hurt often we don't know the reason why. Most of the time we don't know what the cause of our suffering is - we just suffer.

We don't look back to try to understand our suffering, because we simply can't get our heads around it. Notice that the psalmist does not look back to try to understand all the reasons why he is suffering; he looks forward. He says, “I rejoice in my suffering in order that I might know your decrees.” The psalmist is suffering because he is part of the people of Israel and has been faithful to the law. He is being ostracized by his culture and the people around him. Nevertheless, he doesn't go into an exposé of all the things that have caused his suffering; rather, he looks forward. Looking forward is what we have to do to find meaning in suffering. I recognize that whether you are a person of faith or not, you can learn from your sufferings. Sufferings can actually help you re-evaluate and establish priorities and goals in your life.

In 1967, a young woman called Joni Ericson had a diving accident and became a quadriplegic. She could no longer use her hands, so she learned to paint with a brush in her teeth. A movie was made about her life called Joni and it was very, very popular many years ago. It tells the great story of this young woman who, in the midst of her suffering, was able to do something creative. Joni Ericson Tada, as she is now known, speaks all over the world about the power of her faith in Christ and her ability to handle her sufferings as a result of Christ. She said this:

“We ask less of this life because we know full well that more is coming in the next. The art of living with suffering is just the art of readjusting our expectations in the here and now.”

Suffering does that. It adjusts our expectations. The psalmist makes this point: “What is gold worth compared to your decrees and having you, Oh God?” 1 Peter says, “What is money worth? What are all these things worth compared with what God has done for us in Christ?” There is a readjustment of your priorities when you suffer. What is wealth if you are suffering physically? What is the value of luxury if no one loves you? What is the power of prestige if you have lost your sense of honour? What happens if you have, as Jesus says, “the whole world,” but you have lost your soul?

Suffering makes us aware of what really matters, what is essential. I have met so many people who would give up all their wealth to be healed from the diseases of their hearts. They know and understand that suffering causes you to readjust all the expectations, goals and values you have in your life. One writer compared it to learning a foreign language. When learning a new language, you learn to look at your own language in a new way. By studying another language you come to an appreciation of the value of your own language, and you learn your own language better. It makes your knowledge of your own language more acute and precise. It also allows you to communicate with people with whom you could never communicate before. It opens up new horizons, new possibilities and new relationships.

This writer said that similarly, when you suffer you see your life in a new way with a deeper appreciation of the things you have. You understand the new relationships you are about to enter into, because now you can speak the language of others who suffer. Suffering has a way, like learning a new language, of opening up a new world and allowing you to focus on your existing world with greater clarity and intensity.

It also affects the way you look at your relationships with others. Years ago, I visited a memorial hospital for veterans. I walked down the wards speaking to the veterans, and then visited a member of my church. I had not met him before, because I was new to the pastoral charge. I sat down with him, and it became obvious from our discussion that he was a veteran of World War II and the Korean War. He had seen an awful lot of action, a lot of violence and death. I asked him, “Is there anything redemptive in all of this? Is there anything that you learned?”

He stared me straight in the eye and said, “Yes. I have learned empathy.” He explained that, when you see someone next to you, who you care for, being shot and dying, you realize just what you are inflicting on others. You learn to empathize with your enemy. Suffering can teach you empathy and sympathy, and make you more aware of the needs of others.

Heroism, suffering for the sake of another, also causes you to totally re-evaluate your relationships. Being in a position in which you give of yourself allows you understand the situation that others might face. Can you think of any great social movement, any great revolution or social change for the good, that hasn't involved some degree of suffering on the part of others to bring it about? I can't! When I think of South Africa, I don't think the changes that have occurred there would have happened if not for the suffering of others and the commitment of people like Mandela. History is full of stories like that. Suffering also forces us to look at the state of the world and the needs of others in a different way.

Is there not something about faith that adds even a further dimension to our understanding of suffering? I think there is. People with no faith in God, atheists who do not believe in the existence of a supreme being, do not look to find meaning in suffering. They try to find meaning in life, yes, but they don't try to find meaning in suffering per se. Why? Because all they can say is, “Suffering is. Suffering exists. It is part of life.” It leads to a sort of nihilism. There cannot be any meaning because there is no one - no source, no form - to give sense to suffering. It just is, and we should try to alleviate it as much as humanly possible.

Theists, those who believe in a supreme being, the existence of God, look to find meaning. They want to move forward just like the psalmist did when he said, “Even in my affliction I rejoice in order that I might know your decrees.”

Sometimes people believe in God, but see God as inherently cruel. There are those who believe that suffering is an attribute of God, and that God actually desires to inflict suffering on the world. Nowhere in the Scriptures - absolutely nowhere - is there a sense that God desires human beings to suffer. God might punish, God might rebuke, God might stand in the way, God might try to change human behaviour, but God does not ultimately desire the suffering of the people he created. What God does do, is try to transform that suffering. Every time the issue of suffering is addressed in the Bible, it is in order that something redemptive might come of it.

One of the great American secretaries of state over the last few years, in my opinion, is Madeleine Albright. She is a brilliant woman - not always correct, but brilliant. About three years ago, she gave a lecture at Yale Divinity School on the issue of suffering and the plight of the world. She said,

 

Not long after September 11th, I was on a panel with Elie Wiesel. He asked us to name the unhappiest character in the Bible. Some said Job, because of the trials he endured; some said Moses, because he was denied entry into the Promised Land; some said Mary, because she witnessed the crucifixion of her son. Wiesel said that he believed the right answer was God, because of the pain he must surely feel in seeing us fight, kill and abuse each other in his name.

Wiesel is right. He is absolutely right! When God sees the suffering of the world, he suffers with us. That theme is found all the way through the Old Testament. It is found all the way through the New Testament. Suffering is not an attribute of God; rather, it is an attribute of God to redeem, to bring about transformation in those who are suffering. He does it by being with us. The New Testament goes a step further and says that God suffers not just with us, but for us. As the writer of 1 Peter put it, “By his wounds we are healed.” (1 Peter 2:24) As Reverend McMaster pointed out to me between the services today, Hebrews Chapter 2 says, “He suffered in order that he might help those who are suffering,” and also that, in Christ, we find someone who is not only with us, but suffers on our behalf.

The good news of the Gospel, the reason we are looking at Psalm 119 as we approach Holy Week, is to understand that the whole message of Christ's death and resurrection is to transform our suffering into joy. To bring life and hope where there is only misery. “That we might know God.” The great gift of suffering is that when we suffer, we turn to God.

A number of years ago I led a confirmation class and in it, there was a stunning young woman. She dressed immaculately, was well-educated and came from a good family. She was clever and engaging and it was a real joy to have her in the class. I noticed that she started to spiral downwards quickly. She went into herself and became a recluse. Her mother phoned me and said her young daughter was now in a psychiatric ward in one of the city's leading hospitals. She asked if I would visit her and I went immediately, only to find out that the girl did not want to see me. I persuaded the orderly and the nurse that it would be good for her to see me, and that her mother had requested it, so they let me into the locked ward.

Sitting in her room was this same young woman, but dressed now in a light blue hospital gown with her hair all tussled and her face looking drawn. She looked medicated, sad, and dark; I hardly recognized her. I sat down and talked with her, and she made it abundantly clear that she was sorry I was there. She did not want to be seen like this. It was obvious that she was very, very mentally ill. Because she had given me strict instructions never to come back, I said, “You know what would really please me? I would like to see you at church with the rest of your confirmation class on Easter Sunday in a few weeks time.” She frowned and said goodbye, and I left that hospital ward with a completely broken heart. I don't think I have ever been sadder in my whole life! I just went home and thought, “All I can do is pray for this girl.”

During the next few weeks, I tried to see her again, but was told adamantly that she didn't want to see me. Easter Sunday came, and the church was full. All the flowers were out, the brass band was playing and the music was great. I looked over the congregation but she wasn't there, and I had a heavy heart. After the service, I walked to the end of the aisle to greet people at the door, but there was no girl. She wasn't there. Finally, out of the corner of my eye, she appeared. I could see from her hand when she offered to shake mine that the band was still around her wrist from being in the hospital. She certainly did not look as she had looked before, but she was there. She looked me in the eyes and she simply said, “I'm here.” Amazingly, that young woman recovered over a long time. She later told me that having that goal of coming to church on Easter Sunday, that challenge that I put before her, gave her something to work toward over those dark and gloomy days. She wanted to be there, and she wanted to celebrate Christ's life and resurrection.

I think that is a profound statement about what happens to us when we suffer. Christ calls us from our suffering to share in his new life; to have a vision that keeps us moving forward through our suffering to his ultimate glory; to know that in the midst of our suffering he is both with us and, more than anything in the world, he is there for us. Surely this, and this alone, gives us meaning in the midst of suffering. Amen.