Things to Say (in the Face of Suffering)

Lent 3 A  3/7/10

Luke, 1 Cor, Isaiah

Grace and peace be with you from God the Father and from the Son and savior Jesus Christ.

Things not to say.

Things not to say to the cop who pulled you over: Hey, are you Andy or Barney? You’re not going to check the trunk, are you? Aren’t you that guy from the Village People?

Things not to say to a job interviewer: My old boss is a real jerk. I’m so desperate I’ll take any job. Oh sorry, I have to take this call.

Things not to say to your parents while you’re at college: I’d love to talk, but I have better things to do with my life.  Are you saved? You know, nobody here cares if you miss class!

Things not to say.

All of us in this room have contracted “foot in mouth” disease at one time or another. Said something unintentionally insensitive, or something ignorant, or something just plain stupid! At best, it’s embarrassing—and a fumbling apology rectifies the situation. (Like when you asked your neighbor when she was “due,” and she informed you that she was not pregnant!) At worst, your faux pas is hurtful and damaging. (Like when someone tells a woman who has suffered a miscarriage, “Oh well, you can always try again.”)

Things not to say.

I’ve said my share of things I wish I wouldn’t have. From unkind words spoken to my wife or son, to inadequate words offered in situations that demanded more, to things I realized only later on were totally, totally stupid.

Once I was visiting a woman whose husband had recently died. And we were talking about his vocation—he had been the High School principal for many years. She mentioned that he had been given a nickname at school, did I know what it was? Now I had heard someone else say that the nickname was “Bulldog,” and, since it was easy to picture him thus, we had a giggle over it. So now, wanting to show that I shared in this humorous bit of information, I said with a chuckle, “Yes, it was Bulldog, wasn’t it?” Big smile. His widow said flatly, “He hated that.” D’oh! I had to do some fancy foot-in-mouth work to smooth that one over!

Things not to say.

It’s mainly framed as what not to say to someone—a pregnant woman, a nurse, your teacher, your pastor, somebody stuck in a hole (top thing not to say, “Are you stuck?). But you might just as easily spout out some ill-advised comment about some thing. The weather. The recession. Health care costs. Music. Evolution. And suffering. It seems like there is an overabundance of thing not to say about suffering—especially to someone who is suffering. Our lessons for today are both a breeding ground for all kinds of misconceptions about the theology of suffering, and a guide for coming to terms with the ways God interacts with human suffering, and also humans suffering.

The passage from Isaiah comes from a time of great joy, as the Israelites return home from captivity in a foreign land. But it is also a time of reflection on the suffering they endured at the hands of their captors, and the loss of faith they experienced as a result. What God says in the second half of this passage speaks to both. “My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways.” God’s plan includes, but ultimately redeems suffering, as well as a graciousness that forgives those who falter and receives them back into relationship with God.

In the sense that we are captive to our sin and its consequences, our suffering is addressed by this passage as well. And a loss of faith on our part, too. But all too often this passage, or a variant thereof, is trotted out to effortlessly explain away suffering. Usually this “thing not to say” sounds like this:

“God works in mysterious ways,” or, “It’s part of God’s plan—we can’t understand it, we just need to accept it,” or “That’s God’s way—you shouldn’t question it.

Comforting? Not in my book.

In First Corinthians, Paul is writing to a church comprised of former prostitutes, pagans, adulterers, thieves and drunkards. Now that Paul is away from them, they are unsure about how to live in the world of Christ, while surrounded by the temptations of the world they left behind. They are flirting with temptation and using their new found gospel freedom wrongly. Paul, being a scholar, uses some scriptural illustrations of people who failed to conquer temptation and paid a heavy price for it. And these people were God’s own, too. So if you think you’re standing strong—watch out. Cause it don’t take much to knock you on your—butt.

Then comes the passage that concerns us: “God won’t let you be tested beyond your strength.”  Paul is referring to temptation – testing. He says that God won’t  let you be tempted beyond your endurance, but will provide a way for you to conquer it. That’s what this is all about. But somehow it has morphed into the following thing not to say about suffering:

God won’t give you any more than you can handle.

That’s not helpful. Or comforting. Or even, in this case, biblical.

Maybe you’ve said these kinds of things to someone. It feels awkward just saying them. You usually say them because you don’t know what else to say. And maybe you’ve been on the receiving end of one of these statements. Then you realize that saying nothing is far better than regurgitating one of these platitudes. You don’t want to hear that.

What about our gospel reading? It showcases a big no-no when it comes to commenting on suffering. Off handedly. Jesus is teaching his disciples about repentance—turning their lives towards God. To do so, he uses two tragedies as illustrations—the Galileans executed by Pilate, and those unfortunate enough to be in the way when the tower of Siloam came tumbling down.

Jesus asks them this, “Did these people come to a tragic end because they somehow were worse sinners than anyone else?” Much in the way we think someone deserves the suffering they’re going through. Or at least brought it upon themselves. Like the person with lung cancer who was a two pack a day smoker. Or, even more insidious, we think what is God punishing him for? We do that to ourselves even. We tell ourselves  that suffering comes as a result on some deficiency in our faith, or deep, hidden sin.

Jesus answers his own question with an unqualified “no,” so, although he’s getting ready to teach the disciples about grace, Jesus marks these as things not to say about suffering.

Well. What to say in the face of suffering?

Our God suffered in the person of Jesus Christ, and now Jesus suffers along with us. Not working in mysterious ways. Not measuring out just the right amount of pain. And not afflicting you according to some schedule of divine retribution. But more like this…

A little girl was a bit late in coming in for dinner. Her father asked her where she had been. The daughter answered him, “My friend dropped her dolly and it broke. So I stayed to help her.” The father, thinking she had helped the girl repair the doll, asked, “Did you get it put back together?” To which his daughter replied, “Oh, I didn’t help her fix her dolly. I helped her cry.”

Jesus helps us in our suffering by suffering alongside. The cross is the proof of that. So we can say, “Jesus” in the face of suffering.

Jesus present with us especially in suffering.

Jesus working through human beings to alleviate suffering.

Jesus holding out the grace of God that forgives sin.

Jesus made visible in the wine and bread—mysterious, yet sure and certain.

Jesus. Jesus is what to say about suffering.

And how about what to say to someone who is suffering? Well, if you feel like you have to say something—anything—then here’s my suggestion: Say something from your heart, something true to you. That’s best. When I told one of my colleagues about my condition, his comment was, “Stinks to be you.” And you know, he was right. He didn’t sugarcoat, or ignore, or try to explain—he just reflected my situation with compassion.

But truly, what you should say mostly is nothing. Listen instead. Answer their unanswerable questions with a truthful “I don’t know.” Don’t compare their suffering to yours. Cry with them. Don’t try to fix it. Help as you can. Be faithful for them if they lose faith. Hold out Jesus, be Jesus to them.

O God who knows suffering, be with those who suffer. Sustian them, hold them in your love through Jesus Christ, who suffered as one of us, and now suffers with us, until the day when suffering will be no more. May we live in that sure promise even today. Amen