Monday, September 17, 2018

A theology of suffering

3 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, 4 who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. 5 For as we share abundantly in Christ's sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort too. 6 If we are afflicted, it is for your comfort and salvation; and if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which you experience when you patiently endure the same sufferings that we suffer. 7 Our hope for you is unshaken, for we know that as you share in our sufferings, you will also share in our comfort (2 Cor 1:3-7).

1. That's an edifying sentiment, but in what respect is it true? God often refuses to protect his people–in contrast to the way a human father does everything he can to protect his family. And human fathers would do even more if they could. Presumably, Paul isn't just spouting an inspirational bromide. 

There's a defensive piety that sometimes hinders us from asking hard questions about a biblical text. The point is not that we should be impious, but defensive piety can be an impediment to understanding the passage if we just settle for the surface sentiment without probing the text. 

2. Some theologians resort to the notion of a suffering God. God doesn't alleviate suffering. Rather, he suffers with us. 

That's not a very satisfying explanation. If I had a "friend" who refused to relieve my suffering, even though he could put a stop to it, I wouldn't consider him to be much of a friend. Suffering with me is a sorry substitute if you can halt or prevent the suffering in the first place. If you can't, then commiseration may be better than nothing, but is God really that impotent?

3. Another explanation might be that God's mercy is primarily eschatological. He's merciful by saving us from eternal misery, not temporary misery. And there's a sense in which that's importantly true, but this particular text is more about the here-and-now than the hereafter. 

4. Some of the language has its background in OT usage and Jewish liturgical prayers. "Consolation" might be a better rendering than "comfort". 

5. In the text, there's an interplay between suffering and consolation, where prior suffering is a precondition for deliverance. Divine consolation takes the form of intervention rather than prevention. Not preempting affliction but bringing good out of evil. 

6. In the text, divine solace is indirect. God uses fellow believers to channel divine consolation. Both suffering and consolation have a corporate dimension. 

7. God doesn't generally spare believers from having to endure the same kinds of suffering as unbelievers. The difference is how Christians minister to each other. 

To take a comparison, suppose a group of high school students find themselves stranded on a desert island. Maybe a storm forced their Cessna to make an emergency landing. They expect to be rescued, but as the days lengthen into weeks, the despairing realization sweeps over them that no one knows where they are. They're presumed dead. 

Suppose they don't even like each other. But now they must work together to survive. That forces them to develop bonds of affection. They look out for each other. Share with each other. Having become fast friends, they help each other when one of them is sick or injured. 

Suppose their ordeal was preventable. But if they never were castaways, they wouldn't have the opportunity–indeed, the necessity–to console each other. Because they're marooned, with no rescue in sight, they must band together and care for each other. Which is better? 

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