Almighty and everlasting God, who of thy tender love towards mankind, has sent thy Son our Savior Jesus Christ, to take upon him our flesh, and to suffer death upon the cross, that all mankind should follow the example of his great humility: Mercifully grant, that we may both follow the example of his patience, and also be made partakers of his resurrection; through the same Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
-Collect for Palm Sunday
Holy week is a time when I reflect on the significance and meaning of Christ's suffering. Since I've been studying Hebrews recently, I've been paying attention to the way the author of Hebrews talks about the suffering of Christ. One theme that I've noticed is the idea that Christ was made perfect through suffering. It may seem strange to talk about Christ being made perfect, as if he were lacking something, but the perfection that the author of Hebrews is talking about is better thought of as suitedness. The book of Hebrews talks about Jesus being our high priest. The idea is that in order for him to be a high priest well suited to our needs he would have to be able to understand our human condition, to experience life the way we experience it, to undergo the same kind of suffering that we undergo. And this is in fact the case. The suffering Jesus experienced allows him to understand us and that makes him well suited to be our mediator.
The fact that God, through Jesus, understands human suffering first-hand has always seemed to be a very important feature of Christianity to me. In how many other religions can God truly relate to human suffering? I'm not sure there is another one that can compare to Christianity. For some people theodicy is a big issue. They can’t wrap their heads around how God can be good and yet allow so much suffering in the world. I admit, I can’t answer that question satisfactorily myself. What I do know, however, is that I could never look Christ in the face and say, “You don’t know what it’s like down here. You don’t understand what we go through – the suffering and the pain.” When I envision Christ on the cross I have to acknowledge that God understands the worst of human suffering. And when I read “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” I know that Christ understands the deepest emotional pain a human can have.
My response to this acknowledgement is twofold. On the one hand I find it very comforting. When I am suffering, or when I see someone else in suffering, I know that God understands and that God can be present even in the midst of pain. On the other hand, I am afraid. I'm afraid because Jesus' suffering was a direct result of him following God's will. The image of Christ on the cross reminds me that following God’s will is neither safe nor comfortable. If I am a disciple of Christ, I must be willing to follow Christ’s example of obedience even to death. Jesus himself promises pain and hardship for those who follow him. Hebrews chapter 11 is littered with stories of people who suffered terrible things and died horrible deaths because of their faith: “They were stoned ; they were sawed in two; they were put to death by the sword. They went about in sheepskins and goatskins, destitute, persecuted and mistreated” (Hebrews 11:37). That certainly doesn't sound appealing to me. Why would anyone sign up for that?
I struggle with that question personally. If following God means pain and suffering, why should I do it? There are two things that keep me coming back. The first is the nagging belief that Christianity is in fact true and, therefore, requires me to pursue God's will. There are various reasons that I have and experiences that all point me in the direction of Christianity. As best as I can tell from my vantage point, it makes sense for me to believe in Christianity. To back away from the truth on account of possible pain is cowardly, so I press on. The second reason is that I have experienced the power of forgiveness and Christ's ability to change my life. There is real power in confession to Christ and real power to change in asking for Christ’s forgiveness. When I first discovered that, it transformed me and made me want to follow. But there are still times when I am half-hearted in my commitment, when I’m afraid of what might happen to me if I were to fully submit myself to God’s will. Would I end up being scorned, hated, abused, killed? Probably not in America. But would I end up poor, uncool, marginalized? Quite possibly.
In the Garden of Gethsemane Christ was thoroughly distressed. His clothes were soaked in sweat. His muscles were knotted up with stress. His head hurt as he thought about what was about to happen. He begged God to give him a way out, but in the end he prayed “Thy will be done.” My personal suffering has never compared to that, but I still find myself needing to pray and ask God to give me the courage to submit to him. It is hard to pray “Thy will be done” and truly mean it.
-David
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