Pastor's Corner: A breathtakingly beautiful life

We live in a world right now that is bursting at the seams with pain. We are watching the death tolls rise daily and hearing the stories of people inflicted with the virus. People unable to be with their loved ones during critical life moments. People wondering how they are going to pay their bills and feed their families. People and children unable to shelter safely at the hands of abuse and addiction. Divisive rhetoric from our leaders on how to stand together and protect each other. Debates and protests over whose lives matter. Our own grief over cancelled plans and deferred dreams, a future that we could count on and plan for. The uncertainty and exhaustion of navigating a world that is unsure and unsafe. The fresh diagnoses of loved ones facing grave illnesses and disease. The daily reminders of loved ones gone too soon and the tidal waves of grief that hit us all over again.

The Book of Job in the Old Testament has become like a patron-saint for sufferers for the ways that he still praises God despite losing everything. Job addresses the perennial question: why do bad things happen to good people? Where is God in our suffering? The traditional moral of the tale is this: when you are faced with hard times, don’t be tempted to relinquish your faith in God. God has reasons beyond your understanding for what God is doing, and if you hold on to your faith long enough, God will reward you for your suffering. We know this story and its teachings all too well. It is a popular perspective on suffering, and one that I want to push back against with every fiber of my being. 

First, I do not believe that there is a hierarchy of suffering. Our pain is not discredited because someone has it “worse.” I was recently talking to someone who named three or four really hard things she had gone through. But then at the end, she said, but I know I should be grateful because others are suffering more. We often say things like, “well at least you don’t have it as bad as …” We will always be able to find a more tragic story than ours, but there is not a limited amount of pain, just like there is not a limited amount of goodness, that we must divide between us and only take our “share.” If it hurts you, then your pain is real. You do not need to justify it or qualify it. When we get to heaven, there is no trophy for thee who suffered the most. The truth of your suffering is real.

Second, things do not always get better. We know this. But we live in an outcome-oriented society and life is often viewed as a self-improvement project. Pray more, sin less, eat healthy and exercise, be grateful, help others, and you will receive positive rewards. I am not suggesting that we just throw up our hands and give into our sorrow, but I think when we force hurting people to bear their pain with a smile and shortchange their opportunity to say “wow, this is really awful and hard” by giving them our pep talk to keep fighting and remain strong, when we put time limitations on how long someone is allowed to hurt, we neglect our rich Christian tradition of lament. We live in a culture that really doesn’t want to hear about each other’s pain, we just want to skip ahead to the happy ending. But our forefathers and mothers in the faith have given us rich language of “how long, O Lord?” and “my God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” and “do not hide your face from me in the day of my distress.” There is space in our Christian experience for weeping and lamenting.

Third, I do not believe in a God who let us suffer to teach us a lesson. I think we often move too quickly to the “reason” why bad things happen. We want to explain the pain away — like if we have a reason for it, it takes the edge off. This is where we get caught when we say things like “everything happens for a reason” or “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” or “pain is life’s greatest teacher.” All these things might be true and yet, I do not believe in a finite God who lets us suffer to get our attention. We are holy vessels meant for love and goodness; everything about us was made for glory. I do not subscribe to the notion that God somehow profits off of our losses or arranges great heartache as some showing of tough love. He has no hand in abuse, exploitation, or harm because He is incapable of evil. God is love and only love.

Life breaks in so many ways because we live in failing bodies on a fluctuating earth with unchecked injustice where hurt people hurt people. Sometimes we reap what we sow, and sometimes we reap what someone else sows. We lose and fail and suffer in every society, culture, subgroup, family. This is the price of admission to being human. But I believe our life was created from beauty and goodness — that was the intent of our creator. So yes, in the words of L.R. Knost, “life is amazing. And then it’s awful. And then it’s amazing again. And in between the amazing and the awful, its ordinary and mundane and routine. Breathe in the amazing, hold on through the awful, and relax and exhale during the ordinary. That’s just living a heart-breaking, soul-healing, amazing, awful, ordinary life. And it’s breathtakingly beautiful.” Thanks be to God!

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The Rev. Maggie Lewis

Chinook Presbyterian Church

First Presbyterian Church Havre