Bearing with one another

I'm revisiting an older post today...it's a little on the long side

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Pain is always hard, even (or perhaps especially) when its not our own. There are no easy answers, and there are no quick solutions. This is a hard truth to accept and even harder to communicate. The best words to say are not always clear but perhaps the worst thing we can do is give a glib or pat answer to a person who is suffering through a pain we are not experiencing. This is complicated still further when the words that we believe to be so full of comfort fail to actually bring comfort.

The trouble is that the truths that give us so much assurance and comfort during times of peace are clogged and clouded by the emotional pain and confusion that comes during an actual trial. You may read a scripture and see that God promises beauty for ashes and joy with the morning. While this promise is true, you have to remember that hope is so much harder to see when you’re actually in the ashes. The tear-filled night is the longest when you’re desperately wishing for the morning.

So what do we do after we’ve read the bible truths and the fire is still raging? Do we just say them all over again? Paul gives us some insight:

“I…beseech you to walk worthy of the calling with which you were called, with all lowliness and gentleness, with longsuffering, bearing with one another in love,” Ephesians 4:2

Listen to the characteristics he uses here: lowliness, gentleness, longsuffering, and, above all, bearing with one another in love. If we are to be worthy of the calling of Christ, we absolutely must demonstrate humility, gentleness, and patience to one another in all situations. This concept is mentioned again:

“bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ. For if anyone thinks himself to be something when he is nothing, he deceives himself.” Galatians 6:1 

Now we exhort you, brethren, warn those who are unruly, comfort the fainthearted, uphold the weak, be patient with all. 1 Thess 5:4

How often do we barge into the midst of a trial that is not ours, the weight of which we have not borne, expecting to offer a miracle cure for the pain it brings? We confidently extend the promises of God like a lifeline and are puzzled when the pain continues. Sadly, that horrible impotent feeling we experience as bystanders can lead us to vent our frustrations on the one we were just trying to comfort. “Fine then!” we throw up our hands in defeat, “You refuse to be comforted, so you just sit there and whine about it!”

It is so much easier to rattle off a scripture than it is to bear with your brother or sister in the midst of their pain. I believe the truth is not that they refuse be comforted but that we cannot bear the pain so we abandon them. But “love suffers long and is kind…” (1 Corinthians 13:4).

Tossing out scriptures, as if they possess a magical power to dissolve the pain of a difficult situation, is immature and, in truth, lazy. Words don't help the pain, that comfort comes directly from the Spirit of God and we can't control Him and we can't make promises that He'll behave a certain way.

Do speak truth. Do seek the scriptures for hope and promises and extend that hope to the suffering. But we are not given permission to stop there, don't throw out the promises and leave your brother alone in his ashes. Sit with him, weep with him, and watch for the morning together.

Update: C.S. Lewis and The Problem of Pain

I started reading The Problem of Pain by C.S. Lewis this month. Though I'm not finished with it yet I wanted to share a quick update on how things are going.

It, like everything by C.S. Lewis, is amazing. It's a step-by-step examination of the nature of human suffering and why a good, powerful, and loving God would allow His creation to experience pain. If you have ever struggled with this issue, I would highly recommend it.

However, it hit me while I was reading it that, though C.S. Lewis is a phenomenal author and his books are rich with practical and inspiring wisdom, few people read him anymore (Chronicles of Narnia, aside). This is tragic to me because I believe that Mere Christianity alone could revolutionize the heart of believers and non believers alike.

So why don't we read him anymore? I've decided that, though he writes in English, C.S. Lewis needs a translator.

In case you are not entirely sure who Clive Staples "Jack" Lewis actually is, let me give you a very brief biography.

He was born right around the turn of the century and died in 1963. Though he was English by birth, he was actually born and raised in Ireland and did not move to England until he attended college at Oxford. Though he was baptised into the Church of Ireland, like many, he walked away from the faith as a teenager. He did not become a Christian until his 30s largely in part to the influences of his friend J.R.R. Tolkien (what I wouldn't have given to have gone to Oxford in the 30s!) and the writings of G.K. Chesterton (love love love!). After his conversion, C.S. Lewis wrote over 100 nonfiction books, articles, essays, novels, and poems including, notably:

Mere Christianity

A Grief Observed

The Great Divorce

The Screwtape Letters

The Chronicles of Narnia

The Space Trilogy

and, of course, The Problem of Pain

His background as an atheist, his time at Oxford, and his love and study of mythology gave him a simultaneously academic and playful manner of writing that I just love. But, because he was an Oxford professor and scholar in early 20th century England, he really does speak a different language than an average, publicly educated, 21st century American.

So we don't read him. And we miss out!

Someone really should take on the task of writing a C.S. Lewis companion to go along with his books. I'm not talking about a cliff notes volume, though there is something like that available, I mean a NASB-style, line by line translation.

Someone needs to do this because, if they don't, I might get crazy and do it myself.

   

Distracted by Jesus

There are, broadly, two different ways to deal with our mortality: we can either deny it or we can fight it.

Denial itself can either be the hope that we may escape death or our eyes-shut-tight refusal to acknowledge it. Practically speaking, I think we most often fall into this category. I say practically because, though we may profess differently, we generally live our lives as if we believe that we are not going to die.

We live fully in the moment, absorbed in our immediate surroundings.

Distracted.

These distractions can include seemingly trivial hobbies but they could also be a career, family, or philanthropy. It could be art or self-expression. Sometimes the pursuit of meaning or understanding itself is our distraction; or maybe it is love, both giving and receiving it. These are often the most powerful, we may even build an entire life upon them.

If we are not refusing to acknowledge our mortality, then we are likely fighting against it. For some people, this does mean trying to live forever physically (isn't Walt Disney still frozen?). For more people, however, it means leaving an eternal legacy or a "mark." The desire to leave a part of "you" behind after your are gone is simultaneously noble and fundamental. It gives us comfort to know that, after we are gone, a piece of us will continue; it doesn't so much matter if that piece is a scholarship foundation or a child.

From a practical perspective, these two responses both still end in eventual death and decay. The best we can hope for is to prolong our life, be it 100 or 1,000,000 years. The only thing that can transform our fate, rather than distract us from it or delay it, is Jesus Christ.

This is the heart and flesh of the "Good News."

Hope.

The trouble is that such transformation does not necesarily guarantee a happy, satisfying, or pain-free life. After all, there are plenty of people who do not follow Christ living fulfilling lives out there. By the same token, there are plenty of followers of Jesus Christ leading unfulfilling, empty lives. Devoid of hope.

I realized this as I was listening to a lovely song about grace, that there are so many hurting people out there that are hiding their pain. As I thought about this, I realized that there are likely as many wounded and desperate Christians out there as there are wounded and desperate non-Christians.

How can this be? How can we all be experiencing the same levels of fear, doubt, and loss when some of us claim to have exclusive access to grace, peace and hope?

Make no mistake, dubious Christian, we are, all of us, lost and hurting. If you don't know what I'm talking about, I praise God on your behalf. But I can think of 15 people in my personal life who deeply love Jesus, love His word, and follow Him who experience fear, doubt, pain, and some deep darkness in their present, one of them being me.

Just like we wrongly assume anorexics are skinny, we wrongly assume that hurting people are sad. We're not, not all the time anyway. Sometimes we laugh and make jokes. Sometimes we feel good and even experience joy.

Joy doesn't preclude hurt.

Why then? Why do we have hope and yet not feel hopeful? There is no simple answer for this Problem of Pain lies at the core of who we are as humans, yet I think I might understand a small piece of it.
Sometimes, we make the mistake of making a hobby out of Jesus.

Sometimes, we turn Him into an activity, something we do on the weekends, an activity to promote our spiritual health, like Yoga. But it doesn't change the substance of our lives. Like many of our other distractions it buoys up our spirits temporarily and fills some of those late-night hours that would otherwise be spent in pondering the meaning of our lives.

We believe in God. Still, we live fully in the moment, absorbed in our immediate surroundings. Serving. Doing. Loving. Praying.

Distracted by Jesus.

A good friend of mine said recently, I don't want 'to be' a pastor, it's not my job or even my calling, it's me. I can't stop it, I would lose myself.

I am not a Christian because I adopt a philosophy or subscribe to a pattern of living. I am Christian because it is me. If I limit my faith to what I do or what I believe, there is a painful emptiness in the center of my being. I lose myself.

This is a bear of a distinction to make because so much of what we do and believe does, indeed define us. I cannot make a better explanation than Acts 17:28

"...in Him we live and move and have our being...'"

Like blood in veins, air lungs. He breathes through us: living, moving, being.

How can you tell if you've made a hobby of Jesus?


Props to Coffee Shop Dharma for the photo!

 

"You Are More" by Tenth Avenue North



Bearing with one another...

If you haven’t noticed, I’m in a bit of a series dealing with suffering. This wasn’t intentional; it just happens that this subject has been coming up a lot in my thoughts, life, and personal devotions. Not to worry, compassionate friends, I am just fine :o) God has just chosen this “season” (if you will forgive my adding to the overuse of that word) to teach me a little bit about dealing with pain.

One of the most difficult tasks before us is dealing with the pain of others. Nothing brings a person to the door of the church so quickly as suffering and the first questions asked of us, as ambassadors or grace and image bearers of God, is “Why?”

Pain is always hard, even (or perhaps especially) when its not our own. There are no easy answers, and there are no quick solutions. This is a hard truth to accept and even harder to communicate. The best words to say are not always clear but perhaps the worst thing we can do is give a glib or pat answer to a person who is suffering through a pain we are not experiencing. This is complicated still further when the words that we believe to be so full of comfort fail to actually bring comfort.

The trouble is that the scripture truths that give us so much assurance and comfort during times of peace are clogged and clouded by the emotional pain and confusion that comes during an actual trial. You may read a scripture and see that God promises beauty for ashes and joy with the morning. While this promise is true, you have to remember that hope is so much harder to see when you’re actually in the ashes. The tear-filled night is the longest when you’re desperately wishing for the morning.

So what do we do after we’ve read the bible truths and the fire is still raging? Do we just say them all over again? Paul gives us some insight:

“I…beseech you to walk worthy of the calling with which you were called, with all lowliness and gentleness, with longsuffering, bearing with one another in love,” Ephesians 4:2

Listen to the characteristics he uses here: lowliness, gentleness, longsuffering, and, above all, bearing with one another in love. If we are to be worthy of the calling of Christ, we absolutely must demonstrate humility, gentleness, and patience to one another in all situations. This concept is mentioned again:

“bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ. For if anyone thinks himself to be something when he is nothing, he deceives himself.” Galatians 6:1
Now we exhort you, brethren, warn those who are unruly, comfort the fainthearted, uphold the weak, be patient with all. 1 Thess 5:4

How often do we barge into the midst of a trial that is not ours, the weight of which we have not borne, expecting to offer a miracle cure for the pain it brings? We confidently extend the promises of God like a lifeline and are puzzled when the pain continues. Sadly, that horrible impotent feeling we experience as bystanders can lead us to vent our frustrations on the one we were just trying to comfort. “Fine then!” we throw up our hands in defeat, “You refuse to be comforted, so you just sit there and whine about it!”

Oh shame on us for failing to demonstrate lowliness and gentleness! As one who struggles to tame her tongue, I understand how difficult this can be when you know (or think you know) what the bible answer is. But it is so much easier to rattle off a scripture than it is to bear with your brother or sister in the midst of their pain as they experience the truth of that scripture. I believe the truth is not that they refuse be comforted but that we cannot bear the pain so we abandon the situation.

If we are to bear with our brother in love we must also remember that “Love suffers long and is kind…” 1 Corinthians 13:4

We have to remember that we see dimly now, we cannot fully understand the purposes and plans of God in and through suffering. Tossing out scriptures, as if they possess a magical power to dissolve the pain of a difficult situation, is immature and, in truth, lazy. Words don't help the pain, that comfort comes directly from the Spirit of God and we can't control Him and we can't make promises that He'll behave a certain way.

Do speak truth. Do seek the scriptures for hope and promises and extend that hope to the suffering. But we are not given permission to stop there, don't throw out the promises and leave your brother alone in his ashes. Sit with him, weep with him, and watch for the morning together.