Suffering

           Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance;  perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us. (Romans 5:3-5)

          Remember Jaws? There’s a scene when Brody, Quint, and Hooper are drinking, and start comparing scars. “I got this when…” and the male bonding and competition begins. Think of movies like Rocky and The Karate Kid. Think about the story of David and Goliath, or (the ultimate story of it’s kind) the story of the Crucifixion and Resurrection of Jesus Christ. Think of the memes that surface on social media every now and again, “If you think you have it bad, consider how it bad it is for …” Again, there’s a hierarchy of suffering, and yours most likely doesn’t meet the standards needed for you to be able to glory in them – but you’ll try.

          Paul isn’t telling us anything new. We’ve always gloried in our sufferings, whether that glory has been positive (“Look how great I am!”) or negative (“No one is as pitiful as I am!”) That’s why the movies and events I mentioned are so powerful. But then, reality. Real suffering is so much harder than our imaginations advertise. Our lives shrink down to that pain. We glory in the pain – magnifying it, praising it (in negative terms, perhaps – but we’re still making it a competition. Your pain can’t possibly measure up to mine.”

          Paul tells the Roman church, and us, that we should glory in our suffering, not competitively, but because of what it is doing in us, to us, and to others through us. Suffering produces perseverance. It teaches us how to keep going when the going gets tough, because we’ve been there before. We survived, and we know how we survived. The something bigger than ourselves gives us the why that is needed to survive the what.

          Stress, suffering by another name, builds endurance. If you want to have stronger muscles, you stress them. You make them suffer. If you want a child to learn to walk, you stress them by making them do what you want. Stress and suffering (of the right kind and in the right dose) produces endurance.  Endurance improves our character. Spoiled brats get everything they want without having to do anything (except perhaps pitch a fit.) People of character have gone through hard times and survived.

          People have asked me why I’m not afraid of the pandemic. I’ve shared a meme of the various “we’re all gonna die” crises of the past three decades or so. What I don’t usually say is that I’ve been fired, I’ve quit a job, I’ve had two parents die, I’ve been through a lot of stuff that may or may not seem like much to you. Having survived them, I’m learning the things that won’t kill me, and I’ve gotten stronger. I’ve learned. The list Paul gives us is true not because it’s religious mumbo-jumbo. It’s the way the universe works.

          And what works even better than suffering so we’ll be stronger is suffering for the sake of something bigger than we are. That sort of suffering not only strengthens us, but it does good for someone or something else. It goes without saying that suffering for the sake of Christ is, for the Christian, the ultimate sacrifice and the ultimate honor – until or  unless we’re really seeking our own honor in that suffering.

          As I head into my evening's work on my story, an idea flits through my mind. It's entirely possible that the worst sort of "suffering" involves boredom. It is the requirement that one wait for something to happen. This goes along with what I've said about "Hurry up! Not Yet!"