What Jesus Says About Suffering and
Evil
And Jesus went forth, and saw a great multitude, and was moved with compassion toward them, and he healed their sick.
Matthew 14:14
High on the list of human concerns are those of suffering and sorrow. Suffering not only brings discomfort, but it also produces doubt. It not only presents pain, but it also presents a problem. Let us then turn to the Master Teacher with our difficulties and listen to what He has to say about the problem of suffering.
According to Jesus, suffering and sorrow are unnatural in the order of God. Pain is an intruder, an evil interloper who has invaded God's domain. Pain is a thief who has broken into the household of the Father to torment the children and steal their happiness from them. Jesus makes it very clear that suffering does not originate with the Father. God does not enjoy the agonies and the sorrows of His children. Our Lord responded to suffering with love and sympathy. We read, "But when he saw the multitudes, he was moved with compassion
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on them, because they fainted, and were scattered abroad, as sheep having no shepherd" (Mat. 9:36). The word "compassion" in the original language means "to suffer with — to be identified with the anguish and woe of another." Whenever our Lord saw need or sensed sorrow, He joined His heart to the afflicted. He always took the part of the sufferer against the suffering, the part of the sorrowing one against the grief, of the sick one against the illness, of the weak against his infirmity.
A leper cast out of society because of his contagious disease sees the Master passing by and cries out to Him, "Lord, if thou wilt, thou canst make me clean" (Matt 8:2). "Lord, if you are willing, if you really want to, you can heal me." Our Lord moves toward him, and laying that loving hand upon the diseased flesh, He answers, "I am willing... (I really want to)... Be thou cleansed." And the leper was healed.
A blind beggar on the streets of Jericho learns that the Son of David is passing by. From the thronged roadside he calls, "...Jesus, thou Son of David, have mercy on me" (Mark 10:47). Those around him endeavor to quiet him. They feel he may be disturbing important matters in the Master's ministry. But Jesus catches that plaintive cry above the confusion, and He asks that the blind man be brought to Him. Then, putting the sightless one in the very center of the circle, He says, "What wilt thou that I should do unto thee?" The man replies," ...Lord, that I might receive my sight" (Mark 10:51). Immediately, his eyes are opened.
Others may not be sensitive to the call of the suffering, but Jesus always is. There is not one instance in all the gospel record where anyone came to Jesus with an anxiety or an ill-
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ness but that the Master ministered to him and healed him. His arms always reach out to human need.
The shortest verse in the Bible describes Jesus as He stands beside the tomb of Lazarus with the mourning sisters and friends. "Jesus wept" (John 11:35). There is a volume of truth in these two terse words. Look at them in the light of Christ's comment, "...he that hath seen me hath seen the Father..." (John 14:9). He is saying, if you want to know what God is like, observe Me. If you desire to understand how He feels and responds, look at Me. In the presence of sorrow, Jesus wept. Through Him, we learn that God is not a far-off, impersonal God of chance. He has not placed humanity on this speck of cosmic dust, and then, having wound up all the laws, He has not turned His back on us to let us sweat it out alone. He hears the cry of people. Christ reveals to us that God really cares. The measure of His concern is the length to which He has gone to redeem us from suffering and sorrow, even to His own anguish and death on the cross.
Jesus met suffering with more than sympathy. He strongly opposed it. In the mind of our Lord, suffering is joined to evil. The major source of most human misery is sin. The reign of God is one of peace and joy, of light and life, but man has chosen to revolt against his Maker. He has set himself up as God. In arrogance and pride, he has deified his own will and made it supreme, rather than coming humbly and trustfully to place his life in the hand of God. Mankind is like the Prodigal. We have gathered together what we thought was rightfully our own, gone into a far country, and wasted our substance. Now we find ourselves out with the hogs in great hunger of soul. Let us not blame the Father's heart nor the
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Father's house. We have chosen our own way and brought on ourselves the major part of our suffering.
Charles Kingsley wrote, "Just as a wheel in a piece of machinery punishes itself when it is out of gear, so humanity punishes itself when it is withdrawn from the will of God." Think for a moment of all the agony and grief which our own selfishnesses have brought upon us. Consider what hate, envy, and lust have brought to the human race. The conflicts of society about us are largely the reflection of deep conflicts in the human spirit.
A friend of mine who is a serious student of philosophy told me, "My experiences in the last World War shook my faith. I felt it difficult to reconcile carnage and destruction with God, but now I see this in a new light. The twentieth century is the age of revolt against God and of an idolatrous worship of man. God has been ignored. His way has not been followed. His will has been rejected. Christ teaches us to live together as brethren in truth and goodness. We are finding out the hard way what happens to us when we choose a different path."
Robert Browning has said, "God's in His heaven; all's right with the world." But the fact is that God left His heaven to invade human history in the Person of Christ because there was so much wrong with the world. He came to challenge this intruder, this alien evil, and to cast it out. One day His will shall be done on earth as it is in heaven, and that will be the day of deliverance from sorrow and suffering. "God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain..." (Rev 21:4).
Now if Christ has come to put an erring world right, then you and I must take our stand with Him and enlist our ener-
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gies to march against evil wherever it is found. If "God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son..." and if Christ cared enough to suffer for the suffering, then we too must be sensitive to human need and keep our ears open to every cry.
"Well," one may reply, "suffering is understandable in some cases but not in every case. How do you explain the suffering of the godly and the innocent?" When the wicked suffer, we sense that there is a factor of justice involved, but what happens when the righteous suffer? We read that Herod, the wicked king, was eaten of worms. Certainly, I can understand that. He gets what is coming to him. He sowed the wind; he reaps the whirlwind. Hitler died in a flaming chancellery. That makes sense. But Jesus! Jesus was crucified between two thieves. What do we do with that?
Let us go a step farther with the Master Teacher and His teaching about pain and evil. Though unnatural, suffering, Jesus teaches, is inevitable in this kind of world. Even the sinless Son of God suffered. The looming specter of the crucifixion distressed the disciples. Christ did not hide from them what was going to happen. "Remember the word that I said unto you, The servant is not greater than his lord. If they have persecuted me, they will also persecute you..." (John 15:20). Do not be surprised if you are thrust into the prison-house of pain. Look how they are treating Me. But do not despair; there is a way through. "...In the world, ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world" (John 16:33). The mystery of evil in a world ruled by God is not so baffling as the mystery of goodness in a godless world. It is a goodness that is basic and wonderful. It is a goodness that exists to a far greater degree than we realize.
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One of the tragic fallacies current today is the proposition that the good should not suffer, and that if one is experiencing sickness or sorrow, it is because he does not have the right faith or lead the right kind of life. Adversity is due to some kind of moral or spiritual inadequacy. Peace of mind and prosperity cults abound, saying, "Come join us. Practice our formula and you will find all your problems solved, all your difficulties dissolved, all distresses driven away." But that is not what we read in the New Testament. God does deliver His people from trouble, but not always. Simon Peter, a pillar of the church, was thrust into prison, scourged, and finally, according to tradition, was crucified upside down. His faithfulness did not procure a pass from persecution and pain. James, the brother of John, one of the closest companions of Christ, was imprisoned and beheaded by a wicked king. Paul, the Apostle, whose life of intense devotion has burned like a pure flame of light through the centuries, wrote: "From henceforth let no man trouble me: for I bear in my body the marks of the Lord Jesus" (Gal 6:17). To be a follower of Jesus, for the first century church, meant suffering. It was the badge of their devotion. "Yea, and all that will live godly in Christ Jesus shall suffer persecution" (II Tim 3:12).
Supremely, Jesus teaches that suffering is not only unnatural in God's order and inescapable in the world today, but that it is also usable for the child of God. Among the many unique aspects of Jesus' ministry is His revolutionary approach to suffering. He declares that every experience which comes to us, within the permissive will of God, may be made to minister to us and used as a means of bringing glory to God. Whatever comes to us in this life may be our servant and an instrument of blessing.
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There are three basic attitudes towards suffering. One may resent it, lash out violently against it, blame others, blame circumstances, blame God, and let it poison the soul with bitterness. That attitude is deadly. It corrodes the heart like acid. It sickens the spirit. It even affects the body. Never treat difficulty that way. It simply turns the cutting edge of trouble back upon oneself.
Another attitude toward suffering is to be stoical about it, to say, "Since I cannot extricate myself from this situation, I will take it without whimpering." One marshals his resources, gathers together his willpower, firms the upper lip, and thrusts out the chin, saying, "All right. I can take it." Now of course, that is better than resentment, but it isn't enough. Stoicism is brittle, and if the pressure is strong enough, it will break, and the inner defenses will be shattered.
Our Lord teaches us neither to resent suffering nor simply to endure it, but rather to accept it with gratitude. He encourages us to reach out with both hands and embrace with thanksgiving whatever comes to us as obedient and trusting children of God. The supreme demonstration of this attitude is found in Christ's own crucifixion. Here is evil and anguish at its zenith, the problem stripped naked and thrown out into the light for all to see — Jesus, the holy, loving Son of God crucified. Observe His spirit of submission to the Father's will. "...Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt" (Mat. 26:39). In Gethsemane's garden, praying until sweat as great drops of blood fell to the ground, He entered into full understanding of the Father's will. He arose to embrace the cross with assurance. Henceforth, the crucifixion was His servant, an instrument to be used for man's good and God's glory. "...the
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cup which my Father hath given me, shall I not drink of it? (John 18:11).
Pilate said to Him, "...knowest thou not that I have power to crucify thee, and have power to release thee?" (John 19:10). And our Lord replied, "Thou couldst have no power at all against me, except it were given thee from above..." (John 19:11). His poise and peace remained unshaken.
Then came Calvary. In the eyes of the ancient world, crucifixion was such a loathsome torture, disgrace, and death that it was not mentioned in respectable company. Jesus suffered its agony physically. Emotionally He suffered its burning shame and mockery. Spiritually He suffered separation from the Father. He bore our sin vicariously. There was suffering in His cry that we can never know, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?"
Yet Jesus accepted the cross with thanksgiving and used it to conquer sin, suffering, and death for us. "...who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God" (Heb. 12:2). Watching Jesus, we learn that we can take the worst things, and by God's transforming power, they can become our servants, pulpits from which to proclaim the glory of our Lord.
James has a significant sentence in the beginning of his epistle. J.B. Phillips has translated it, "When all kinds of trials and temptations crowd into your lives, my brothers, don't resent them as intruders, but welcome them as friends" (James 1:2). Did I not say that this attitude was revolutionary? How do you welcome difficulties? When sorrow comes stalking into your heart, what do you do with it? When sickness lays you on your back, how do you handle it? When your
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heart is breaking because of some distressing personal relationship, where do you go with your trouble?
It is not that the Christian is deferred from these experiences or is immune to them, but the Christian can do something creative with his suffering. Suffering can become his servant. This we can verify if we truly trust Jesus Christ. He will use trouble for our good. "All things are for your sakes..." writes the Apostle (II Cor. 4:15).
The early Christians took suffering as an opportunity. When they were beaten, they went on their way, rejoicing that they were counted worthy to suffer shame for the name of Christ. In prison, they sang praises to God. In death, they prayed for their tormentors and saw heaven's glory. Let us call Peter before us. "Peter, you know what it is to grieve. There was that dark night when you went out and wept bitterly over your failure. What did you learn then?" And Peter replies, "Beloved, think it not strange concerning the fiery trial which is to try you, as though some strange thing happened unto you: But rejoice, inasmuch as ye are partakers of Christ's sufferings; that, when his glory shall be revealed, ye may be glad also with exceeding joy" (1 Peter 4:12, 13). "...though now for a season, if need be, ye are in heaviness through manifold temptations: that the trial of your faith, being much more precious than of gold that perisheth, though it be tried with fire, might be found unto praise and honour and glory at the appearing of Jesus Christ" (1 Peter 1:6, 7). Peter would say, "In the upper room when I boasted that I would be faithful unto death to Christ, how little I knew of myself and my weakness. I needed to be uprooted from vain self-confidence and planted in God. During that dark night of despair, I found that even the shame of my cowardice and denial could be used to bring
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me to an end of myself and open new life through the risen Saviour. My confidence now, is not in myself but in Him."
Let us ask the Apostle Paul, "What about that thorn in the flesh, Paul, that stake upon which you are impaled?" "For this thing," he writes, "I besought the Lord thrice, that it might depart from me. And he said unto me, my grace is sufficient for thee.... Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me... for when I am weak, then am I strong" (II Cor. 12:8-10). "And not only so, but we glory in tribulations also: knowing that tribulation worketh patience; And patience, experience; and experience, hope: And hope maketh not ashamed; because the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost which is given unto us" (Romans 5:3-5). In effect, he is saying, "Whether my lot be adversity or prosperity, if I embrace it with trust and gratitude in God, it will serve my good and His glory."
God's main purpose is to make us like His Son. "...all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose" (Romans 8:28). Everything is not good, but He will work for good in everything with those who love Him and are called to His purpose. His purpose is that we should be "...conformed to the image of his Son..." (Romans 8:29). If, at times, He hammers the hard material of the heart with the mallet and chisel of distress and difficulty that we might be shaped into the likeness of our Lord Jesus Christ, let us be grateful. The twenty-third Psalm teaches us this truth also. "The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures..." The verb here is strong — He compels me, he forces me to lie down in green pastures.
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An American traveling in Syria became acquainted with a shepherd. Each morning, he noticed the shepherd carrying food to the sheep. The traveler followed him one morning and found that he was taking the food to one sheep that had a broken leg. As he looked at the animal, he said to the shepherd. "How did the sheep break its leg? Did it meet with an accident — fall into a hole, or did some animal break the leg?" "No," said the shepherd, "I broke this sheep's leg myself." "You broke it yourself?" queried the surprised traveler. "Yes, you see this is a wayward sheep, it would not stay with the flock, but would lead the other sheep astray. Then it would not let me get near it. I could not approach it, and so I had to break the sheep's leg that it might allow me, day by day, to feed it. In doing this, it will get to know me as its shepherd, trust me as its guide, and keep with the flock."
"He maketh me to lie down..." In our busyness, our absorption with life's pleasures and meaningless minutia, we do not heed the shepherd. We are too busy to pray, too busy to listen to God's word, too busy to know Him, to love Him and walk closely with Him. He makes us to "lie down in green pastures."
It is not the godly who complain of suffering if they understand God. Suffering is not a problem to the devout heart who has insight into God's ways. Perhaps to the unbeliever outside of Christ pain seems insoluble, but the trustful heart learns in every situation that God will meet him there. Christ, the good Shepherd, will transform trouble and bring light into darkness.
Catherine Marshall, widow of the late Peter Marshall, in a most remarkable way has let Christ transform suffering and sorrow for her. In her best-seller, A Man Called Peter, she
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tells of coming to Washington, D.C. She was busy with activities and responsibilities as the wife of one of the nation's leading pastors who had a ministry not only to the Senate as its Chaplain, but to the whole country. One day, Catherine Marshall faced her physician across his desk and heard his verdict of an examination. X-rays showed that she had tuberculosis and must have a period of complete rest. Her little world crashed around her. Oh, it was so important, she thought, that she be well! It was important to her husband, important to her little boy, important to the things of God. And in her heart, on the return journey, there was turmoil, fear, feverish anxiety.
As the weeks went by, she prayed urgently, seeking that God would do her will. "Heal me, Lord," was her burden. One day her husband left a little tract on the subject of healing on her bedside table. She read of a missionary who had been stricken in the midst of a flourishing work for Christ and for eight years lay on her back. All these long weary years, this one had prayed, "Lord, heal me in order that I might do your work. It seems to me, Lord, as though I deserved to be healed." And then, at long last, she submitted to the Lord, surrendering her way to Him. She said, "Thy will be done. What Thou dost desire for me, I want." And in that reconciliation, God touched her, blessed her, healed her.
Catherine Marshall read this story, and she saw her own life — shallow, dependent on others for spiritual strength, selfish and void of trust. She had wanted God to heal her in her way, in her time, as though she deserved it. "And now," she said, "with tears eloquent of the reality of what I was doing, I lay in bed and prayed, 'Lord I have done everything I've known how to do and it has not been good enough. I am
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desperately weary of the struggle of trying to persuade You to give me what I want. I am beaten, whipped, through. If You want me to be an invalid for the rest of my life, all right. Here I am. Do anything You like with me and my life.' " In that great commitment of submission and trust, Christ met her and transformed her life. He has given her a ministry which has inspired a nation. Through her testimony, thousands have seen new light in the dark valleys. So, my friend, when you submit to Christ, He meets you Himself and, in His wise and perfect way, transforms suffering, sweetens sorrow, and illumines life with the light of His Presence.
