I stepped into my Greek class for the first time this Fall. Out of breath and sweaty because the class was unexpectedly in the College of Business(not in the language building as I had thought!), which I’ve never set foot in being a Liberal Arts Major. I scuttled into a seat in the back of the mostly vacant class, and tried to look cool, calm and on time. I was just in time to sample a bit of the professor’s theology. He began to explain the Greek gods, how they were more concerned with power than justice, and how they were different than the Christian God who is more concerned with justice than power. He said something like, “When you’ve been kicked in the teeth all day you don’t go home and thank God for insuring justice you received that day”. Many Christians would have objected mightily, if only mentally. Verses like Psalm 68 and 91:1-2 “He who dwells in the shadow of the Most High will abide in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say to the Lord, “My refuge and my fortress, My God in whom I trust!” may have popped into their minds and burst from their lips.
And there is nothing wrong with that.
However, I took an opposite direction. A road a bit darker and perhaps less well traveled. Ever since I realized that I saw the doughnut and not the hole I have been somewhat of a fledgling optimist. Having lived with a most dogged optimist, my cousin Jonathan, for a few months didn’t hurt either.
However, we must acknowledge darkness; otherwise we may see only the light. There is a blindness that comes not from darkness, but from light. This is a spiritual blindness, where we so focus on the good, the pleasant and reassuring realities that when the sometimes harsh, hurting and painful realities come face to face with us we are caught at a loss, and seeing no immediate answer, turn away from our faith, God and others. This turning away doesn’t mean that we completely abandon out faith, but we do grow weaker instead of stronger. To borrow the cliche, we get bitter instead of better. We must be able to stare into the light and into the abyss in equal measure.
So many of the Psalms are of a bright, uplifting nature, however, there are darker currents there as well. “How long shall the wicked, O Lord, How long shall the wicked exult? They pour forth words, they speak arrogantly...They crush your people, O Lord...They slay the widow and the stranger and murder the orphans. They have said, “The Lord does not see, Nor does the God of Jacob pay heed (Psalm 94:1-7).”
Throughout the Psalms such sentiments are not uncommon. Psalm 73 gives an insight into those who saw the prosperity of the wicked and wished for it, “For I was envious of the arrogant as I saw the prosperity of the wicked. For there are no pains in their death, and their body is fat. They are not in trouble as other men, nor are they plagued like mankind...Therefore his people return to this place, and waters of abundance are drunk by them. They say, “How does God know? And is there knowledge with the Most High?” Behold, these are the wicked; And always at ease, they have increased in wealth. Surely in vain I have kept my heart pure and washed my hands in innocence; for I have been stricken all the day long and chastened in the morning.” Here we have a glimpse of a righteous man wishing he were like “the wicked” because of the benefits he sees them garnish in this life. It doesn’t get much more honest than that.
Indeed, in Job we have even stronger and blatant accusations against God, namely that He is not just, “Know then that God has wronged me and has closed His net around me. “Behold, I cry, ‘Violence!’ but I get no answer; I shout for help, but there is no justice (Job 19:6-7).”
In my opinion we read scripture too fast. That is the only way anyone could conclude that Job was patient when he was not patient at all. We brush over the difficult parts of scripture and they barely even register. And when evil befalls us, when pain muddies our welcome mat, we don’t know what to do. We didn’t expect it because we only know about the blessings. And so we dare not complain or ask where God is, because, well, that’s just not what a Christian does...
Or is it?
The last thing we need when struggling with the problem of evil and our own suffering is to condemn ourselves for wondering exactly where God is and why He allowed situations to happen. The situation itself is enough trouble. Look at the bright and the dark in equal parts, so that neither blind you. In other words, suffer well.
Perhaps if we had read scripture deeply we would be more aware of Job and of the “dark” Psalms. There is even an entire book given over to sorrow, aptly titled “Lamentations”. If we had all these in mind maybe we wouldn’t accuse ourselves for our struggle in the face of pain so much. We would be free to suffer well, to suffer with praise and thanksgiving as well as sorrow and lamentation.
Paul compares the Christian life to a race. In order to run well you must be accustomed to suffering and pain that comes from exertion. To run well is to suffer well.
