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On the mystery of suffering
By Father John Breck
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Exploring the human reality of suffering confronts our belief in God. With proper understanding, suffering can deepen our spiritual experience rather than diminish it. Two statements about the risen Christ offer special hope and consolation in the face of human suffering. The first is the word of the angel to the myrrh-bearing women at the Empty Tomb, according to Matthew and Mark. The Greek text reads literally, “You seek Jesus of Nazareth the Crucified One. He is risen, He is not here.” That is, the Risen One remains forever the Crucified One. Even in the glory of His resurrection, Jesus Christ bears the suffering of crucifixion, the pain and anguish of the world’s sin, death and corruption. This leads to the second statement, made by the French philosopher Pascal: “Christ is in agony until the end of the world.” The meaning is the same. Although risen and glorified, the eternal Son of God bears the suffering of the fallen world, and particularly of those who surrender their own suffering into His hands. There is a question to which we all want a reasonable answer: Why do bad things happen to good people (meaning ourselves)? Why is the world filled with innocent suffering, including our own? Regrettably, the question is unanswerable. Suffering remains a mystery in the popular sense of the term, precisely because we cannot explain—or explain away—its ultimate origin or meaning. This is why it is suffering, and not simply pain, hurt or grief. Yet there is another way of considering the mystery of suffering. That is by taking the term “mystery” in its more basic sense of “sacrament.” Few of us who are grieving the loss of a beloved family member, or going through the stress of chemotherapy, or struggling with depression, can appreciate the etymology of the term “mysterion.” But it does signify sacramental reality. Therefore it casts upon the problem of suffering a new, radiant and healing light. We are members of the Body of Christ. This is our most basic identity and it defines our most basic calling (Rom 12; 1 Cor 12). “If one member suffers,” St. Paul tells us, “all suffer together” (1 Cor 12:26). Yet the Head of the Body suffers as well. This means that whatever we experience is never experienced in isolation. We never suffer alone. Although other members of the Body may be oblivious to our suffering, Christ the Head bears it to the full. He drinks the cup of suffering—His own and ours—to the bitter dregs. We know that He even longs to assume our suffering, to assimilate it to His own, in order to transfigure it and ourselves into the image of His glory. God allows our suffering, but He never imposes it. Human suffering is not punishment for sin, except (as a former seminary professor of mine once put it) to the extent that God “allows us to stew in our own juice.” “Who sinned,” the disciples ask Jesus, “that this man was born blind?” And the answer: “Neither he nor his parents, but that the works of God might be made manifest in him” (John 9:3). In the best of times, suffering can educate and fortify us. It can purify our heart, curb our ambitions and lead us to focus on “the one thing needful” (Luke 10:42). At other times, suffering can overwhelm us, leading us to the brink of despair. This occurs especially when it remains a “mystery” in the usual sense: a crushing, perplexing, unexplainable and apparently unjust weight of anguish, loss and pain. What is it that transforms such suffering into a genuine mystery, an experience permeated by sacramental grace? One thing—one gesture only: that is to surrender our suffering—whatever its cause, whatever its form—into the loving hands of the Crucified One. It is to offer our suffering—through gritted teeth, if necessary—to the One who is “in agony until the end of the world.” By this simple sacramental gesture, accomplished through prayer, we can offer every shred of pain, anguish and despair to Him who is the source of all genuine peace, healing and joy. In this way—but only in this way—we can “rejoice in our sufferings,” as the apostle declares, knowing that through it all God ceaselessly pours into our hearts His inexhaustible love (Rom 5:3-5).
The Very Rev. John Breck was Professor of New Testament and Ethics at St. Vladimir’s Seminary from 1984-1996. He is presently Professor of Biblical Interpretation and Ethics at St. Sergius Theological Institute, Paris, France and with his wife Lyn he directs the St. Silouan Retreat near Charleston, SC. His published works include, The Sacred Gift of Life, The Power of the Word, and The Shape of Biblical Language. (St Vladimir’s Press)
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