Thursday, April 14, 2011

Surprised by Pain

I don’t like pain. No one does. We try to make it easier with platitudes.

“Pain is weakness leaving the body.”

“You’ll understand the reason on the other side.”

And a Princess Bride quote for good measure: “Life is pain, highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something.”

All those statements might be true to varying degrees. But they don’t answer the “why” behind circumstances. They all try. But they don’t make surgeries, torn muscles, death, tsunamis, nuclear meltdowns and broken hearts easier to understand.

It’s the problem of pain we’re dealing with here. It’s messy. It’s age-old.

And it’s incredibly important: When a friend is sobbing I want good theology to inform what I say to encourage her. I don’t want to just give platitudes. I want to love with affection that is comforting and true. When I’m fighting despair or depression, I want to know that I know that I know that God is worthy of my trust.

So for me, I focus on this question a lot. Why does God allow suffering? Where does His sovereignty mix with His love? When a friend’s car is totalled, or when my day absolutely feels like one of the circles of Hell, my first question is: why?

And although God has spoken much to us on suffering in His Word (Abraham, Joseph, Job, Paul, the Psalms...), and He does give us a place to stand in regards to pain, I do think I sometimes ask the wrong question.

Instead of asking “why pain?” it may be more just for me to ask “why...joy?”

Because...if you think about it, pain does make sense. Ever since paradise was lost, we’ve lived in a ghosttown; every human in their raw, natural state is a vapor waiting to fade. We wade through a sinful world without Edens, often busy and bustling to avoid the reality that we are daily nearing death. Sin is here. Death is here.

In one of my favorite poems, Eve ponders her life post-Eden. She says, “With shadow, my cup overflows.”

So true. We live in a world of shades. And we brought the shadow on ourselves.

The pain makes sense.

It’s the beauty that doesn’t. It’s the grace that stands in contrast. Why do butterflies even flit into concentration camps? Why are there oases in deserts?

Even more than temporary common graces--the question runs deeper. Why does God give us joy? We’ve earned this sinful state. Why does He offer redemption at so high a cost to Himself?

Pain has always been part of the package. It’s the healing, the happy days, the ecstasy of hope--those are the mind-bogglers.

Why does God choose to stagger me with joy? That could be a better question.