For those who suffer

Strange weather we’re having these days. It’s unseasonably wet in B.C. and unseasonably warm on the prairies. Weather like this causes crocuses to bloom before their appointed time. Yesterday, I noticed the tips of two purple petals trying to bud. I always lament when I see a spring flower poke its bright head above the snow, awash with hope, knowing it will die soon enough when a cold snap hits.

A scene like this seems an appropriate metaphor for this month’s Herald theme: suffering. A flower blooming prematurely: hope temporarily squelched. But, hope is never lost forever and is not without its own poignant beauty. Suffering often creates something more hearty, substantial, and lovely in our lives if we are willing to face the reality of it.

How easy it would have been for me to ignore that small fragile, hopeless blossom. How easy it is to ignore suffering, to turn our eyes and attention away from pain.

Western society does everything in its power to avoid pain and suffering.

Health problems are avoided. The life expectancy of a Canadian child born in 2001 is 79.7 years, the longest it has ever been in this country, and medical advances now help us fight diseases that would have killed us ten years ago. Even the threat of a world pandemic seems manageable through systems implemented by the World Health Organization.

Death is sanitized and denied. It is now common to attend funerals where the casket is closed or not even present at the ceremony. This practice is quite different from funerals earlier in our history, when family members would surround the body and even have their picture taken with the deceased.

Evil is kept at bay. Government propaganda leads us to believe that suffering at the hands of evildoers or terrorists can be eradicated by military prowess and strength, or through better legal policies and laws.

Western society does everything in its power to avoid suffering, encouraging us to trust that via human wisdom and technology, pain and anguish can be avoided. But, strangely enough, this is not God’s intention.

God uses suffering to turn our hearts and minds to him. As C.S. Lewis once penned, “Pain is God’s megaphone to a deaf world.”

God also uses suffering to call us, his people, to enter into the suffering of others. He asks us to be ambassadors of comfort and compassion to those around us.

Simone Weil said it this way: “The capacity to give one’s attention to a sufferer is a very rare and difficult thing; it is almost a miracle; it is a miracle.”

Jesus said it this way: “For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me” (Matthew 25:35–36).

I have seen people acknowledge and enter into the suffering of others, and it’s a beautiful thing. Last week, I attended the funeral of a co-worker’s father. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed two children at the back of the sanctuary. The brother and sister were seated quietly with their mother. The woman happened to be a friend of mine and I was impressed by her courage. She brought her children to the service because they are good friends of the man’s grandchildren.

My friend told her children they would attend the funeral because that’s what friends do when someone dies. She warned them it wouldn’t be fun. She explained that it wouldn’t be entertaining. But it was necessary. That morning, those children learned something profound about suffering. They discovered that suffering is a part of life we must tackle headfirst. And they discovered that suffering is something to share with close friends.

This month, the Herald turns its attention to the experience of suffering. John Neufeld offers biblical teaching on the relationship between suffering and glory. Wilma Derksen shares her poignant story of deep, personal suffering after the murder of her daughter. Pakisa Tshimika provides a glimpse into the suffering (and points towards the joy of reconciliation) in the MB church in Congo. And another writer reveals the anguish of secret suffering due to an eating disorder.

My prayer is that these stories and articles will encourage us all to enter the world of suffering in order to both endure and be agents of healing to those who are in pain. This issue is dedicated to those who suffer.