Easy Doesn’t Do It

Pain is one of nature's ways of telling us to stop. While the gentle burn of rigorous exercise is beneficial, pressing ahead through an injury can lead to serious problems. Backpackers are taught to pay attention to even the slightest discomfort in their feet because a "hot spot" is often a sign of a developing blister, which could ruin their entire trek. Spicy food may produce some welcome discomfort, but learning how hot is too hot can save us from trouble down the road.

In the early church, particularly as Christianity became a predominantly Gentile religion, leaders had to remind the faithful that the way of Jesus is different. Paul reminded the church in Rome that we should "boast in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us" (5:3-5). In his letter to the Philippians, Paul wrote of "the privilege not only of believing in Christ, but of suffering for him as well" (1:29). In 1 Peter, which has more references to suffering than any other book in the New Testament, we are told that when we endure suffering it is a sign of God's approval (2:20).

Unlike most pursuits, for those who follow the way of Jesus, hardship and struggle are not signs that we are doing it wrong but indications that we are getting it right. The clear message to those who were being persecuted was to embrace that persecution not as a sign of God's abandonment but of God's embrace. In the pagan religions of the day, success was a sign of the gods' favor, while struggle was an indication of their wrath. The resurrection of Jesus, however, had showed not only God's victory over suffering and death but also God's abiding presence with those whom the world had rejected. In the face of hardship, we need to be reminded that we find God not amidst the comforts of this life but when those comforts are taken from us.

As my friend and colleague Robert Wisnewski noted a few weeks ago, when Jesus told us to take up our cross, he was not inviting us to take a victory lap but to follow the path that leads to suffering and sacrifice. For us, that runs contrary not only to our biological instincts but also to contemporary Christian culture. Dubious though the historical particularities may be, once Constantine identified the cross as a sign of military and political victory, the way of Jesus became inseparably intertwined with the powers of this world. Although Christians continue to suffer around the world because of their faith, those of us who live in majority-Christian communities have exchanged the symbol of suffering for an emblem of protection.

During the last several weeks, we have begun to encounter suffering differently. Even though most of us remain relatively safe physically, socially, and economically, the threat of insecurity has come considerably closer. Unless our hearts are made of stone, we have been moved by the sacrifice of those who risk their well-being for the sake of others in hospitals, pharmacies, grocery stores, and chicken plants. We recognize that the magnitude of financial hardship being experienced in our country is even greater than a number like 36 million unemployed can convey. For Christians, it is not enough that we would pray for those in need.

Being faithful to Jesus means making decisions for the benefit of others that cost us something—that leave us vulnerable to suffering, too. If God is found in the midst of those who suffer, we cannot expect to find God if we remain behind the protective walls we have erected. Just as physical distancing will require changes in how we do church, the pandemic has exposed the need for change in how we do business, do healthcare, and do government. As we encounter those moments of change, we will be tempted to stop short of personal cost and leave the suffering to someone else, but we of all people know how to see value in sacrifice. We wear the symbol of that redemptive suffering around our necks. Will we stop thinking of it as a shield and begin seeing it as an invitation to a different sort of life—the kind of life that embraces sacrifice for the sake of others?

Yours Faithfully,

Evan