Wednesday, February 20, 2013

This Trouble Has a Purpose, Right?



Recently the pastor of one of my churches led a four week study on suffering (see the powerpoint slides here: fbcsp.org). As might be expected, the study was thought provoking and discussion provoking. The large classroom was filled each session. He quoted a lot of scholars (see the powerpoint slides) and provided multiple perspectives on the subject.

The following comments are not from a biblical scholar. They do not represent the mature thought of one who has struggled long years with suffering and reached profound conclusion. In fact I have found more questions than answers in my brief life. The surprise for me is not that I have found no answers, but rather that my questions have a changed a bit through the years.

Three persons in scripture have helped shape my questions. I suppose one must start with the Old Testament hero Job to begin to formulate questions in a context of suffering.

Why do bad things happen to good people, to God’s people? Job’s first response was simply “the Lord gave and the Lord has taken away. Blessed be the Name of the Lord.” When the suffering became personally physical and lingered on day after day, then Job began to ask the big question “Why”. The only answer Job received was in the sovereignty of God some events were to be accepted without an understandable answer. Allow the circumstances to draw you closer to God and not become a barrier between you. Understanding can never be a prerequisite to a dependent relationship.

Chapter eight of Matthew begins with an encounter between Jesus and a leper. The social outcast comes to Jesus and in humble posture makes a statement, “Lord, if you are willing, you can make me clean.” Job’s faith drove him to point his finger in the face of God and demand answers. This leper does not ask why. He only admits that healing rests in the will of Jesus.

In some measure perhaps Job’s quandary takes this same form. Like the leper Job is confident that God (Jesus) can rectify the situation and make the “bad” go away, or at least give an explanation. The question does not reside in the “can” but in the “will”. For the follower of Jesus Christ, who sees him as Lord, Savior, and compassionate companion, there is no doubt about the ability to perform the needed miracle. The question is rather a focus upon doubt concerning the will of God, his willingness to intervene and produce the good. Here the strength of the Christian’s faith can be revealed as in no other situation. I know you can, God, but can I count on you to do it? It is not your power I doubt, but your own desire to intervene.

Mark 9:24 records the words of a man with whom I readily identify and perhaps most admire for his honesty. “I believe; help my unbelief.” His son lies captive in the clutches of an epileptic demon. The father is helpless to drive away the demon or save his son from its torture. His heart is being driven to despair. He has gone everywhere for help to no avail. He turns first to the disciples of Jesus and then to the Master himself.

In his words we find desperate hope covered in a shroud of doubt. “If you can, please help!” Jesus turns the table and his reply might be seen as a stinging rebuke. I am not the one to doubt. It is your own faith that is in doubt.

The words of the agonizing father ring down through the years, “I believe; help my unbelief.”

I see a battered child, a wounded warrior, a third miscarriage, a malignant tumor, a fatal wreck involving a drunken driver, diabetic wounds that refuse to heal, pancreatic cancer, and relentless congestive heart failure. One time standing by a casket, I asked why allow cancer in someone who leaves behind a widow and four young children. Now after having stood by a lot more caskets, I have a tendency to confess, “I believe; help my unbelief.”