Healing Hurts

At that very time there were some present who told him about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices. He asked them, ‘Do you think that because these Galileans suffered in this way they were worse sinners than all other Galileans? No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish as they did. Or those eighteen who were killed when the tower of Siloam fell on them—do you think that they were worse offenders than all the others living in Jerusalem? No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish just as they did.’

                                                         --Luke 13:1-5

In our attempt to understand things, we catch ourselves affixing blame to explain someone’s suffering. There must be some hidden reason behind it. There must be some quid quo pro at work that brought the bad times. Such has been our inclination from time immemorial. The book of Job came to be during the Exile, over 500 years before Jesus, and it spins around a cadre of “comforters” who approach Job after he lost literally everything. He protests loudly that he is innocent—there is no reason for his suffering—none—yet, the visitors all tell him in one way or another that there is some secret he holds, some failure of faith, some hidden misdeed, that resulted in his devastation. If they can explain it, then they won’t have to deal with the fact that everybody suffers, and a good portion of that is innocent—it just happens. Skip ahead to Jesus and his disciples in Jerusalem—oops!—folks are still stuck in the same trap—there must be a reason for suffering. Skip ahead to our time—have you ever told someone about an impending surgery and been subjected to fearsome tales of woe? Confront the person sharing the bad news, and they will protest that they are just trying to help…

Oh, me…

Suffering remains one of the inexplicable mysteries in the life of faith, becoming the biggest single source of questions from the skeptical and the doubters. Why do the innocent suffer, if God is good? Why would a good God make such an imperfect world? Why doesn’t God intervene directly to end suffering?

The truest and most direct answer from faith is simply, I don’t know. Of course, that answer helps no one. It simply seems like confirmation of the folly of faith. But it still remains the truest and most direct answer we can offer. Should we stubbornly try to figure out suffering, we very easily fall into judgment—we cannot help ourselves from thinking there must be some cause that if we dig hard enough, we will find, so we quietly stew in judgment of the sufferer, knowing there is something there. Well, stop it! Simply fall into the truth that there are some things simply beyond the ability of human reason to grasp.

That is really what Jesus is telling his followers.

He poses the question because he knows they are thinking it, but then he erases it—no, none of these victims is any worse than anybody else. Then he goes on—but I tell you, if you don’t straighten up, you’ll be worse off than them! 

Whoa! What’s the Lord doing?

Fascinatingly, he’s actually calling the disciples into action. They all saw the suffering in the incidents reported. It was awful. So, Jesus says without saying it, what should faith do in response? Knowing they’ve already decided to judge the victims, he tells them to turn around—the core meaning of repentance—and change directions if they want to respond in faith. Judgment is not a response of faith in Jesus’ way. It helps no one. It transforms nothing. It transcends zilch. No, the more excellent way is to respond in a way that alleviates suffering, if not ending it altogether. 

But he doesn’t tell them what that option is. 

Why not?

Because he gave that answer in his very presence with them. They have seen his correct answer—in action, among people, with the suffering encountered. Jesus condemns no one—not even his bitterest adversaries. Instead, he meets suffering of all kinds with redeeming grace. For example, he meets the physical suffering of a paralytic lowered through a roof before him (a humiliating entrance, if you stop to think about it) with the simple release of, Rise and walk. Another, he meets the inward suffering of being plagued by questions as he speaks with Nicodemus, not condemning the poor man’s confusion, but laying seeds that will blossom into understanding (jump ahead—Nicodemus helps bury Jesus, an act of complete mercy). Still another, Jesus meets the outcast with welcome as he speaks to a woman at a well at the wrong time of day. She is there because her community rejects her for being adulterous, so she goes when all respectable women are at home. She is there as a Samaritan, whom no self-respecting Jew would ever speak to. She is there as a woman, whom no self-respecting rabbi would ever welcome into dialog. Jesus does not condemn her, but offers her the wellspring of refreshing, welcoming grace. 

On it goes, example after example, Jesus meets suffering with no explanations whatsoever. He never slides into judgment, trying to fill in blanks that best remain empty. He simply redeems. He offers comfort, solace, and peace to anyone broken, hurting, and lost. 

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how to answer suffering. 

We are the followers of Jesus, the community of Christ, and, therefore, pastors of grace wherever we find ourselves. Grace—what a marvelous gift to share with a hurting and broken world! That is our response to the suffering we encounter—meet it with healing grace—compassion that comforts weary souls. Enter the suffering of another, not by trying to find a reason for it, but with the intention of eliminating it. Help someone stop hurting.

As the ongoing political imbroglio called a Presidential election continues to unfold, beware those who try to explain our ills, discomfort, and fear by lifting up people to hate, reject, and blame. That will be a dead end and sure fire increased suffering. We have something else to offer. We there is need, feed it. We there is emptiness, fill it. Where there is loneliness, join it. Where there is sadness, meet it. Use compassion to overcome what is there, raising it to new life.

That is the way of Jesus.

So when a friend tells you of their upcoming hip replacement, remember, they don’t need to hear how awful Uncle Roy’s was, they need to hear that all shall be well and all manner of thing shall be well…