The Beatitudes Series: Part 2
Blessed are the those who mourn for they shall be comforted
by Bethany Kaldas
Pain is nature’s way of telling us something is wrong. That’s generally how we see it.
Truer these
days than ever before, suffering and discomfort are seen as some of the
greatest enemies to humanity. In popular media we are constantly encouraged to
be strong, be brave—they tell us we can beat the pain and injustice if we just
try hard enough. If you do your best, you’ll win in the end.
To many people,
in many instances, this is a comforting thought. Believing in yourself and
having confidence in your own abilities can be the key to success in plenty of
occasions. It’s why we tell our students to study hard and tell each other to
persist in working for our dreams.
But the
discomfort of, for example, not being promoted before your colleagues is one
thing. The pain of losing a loved one is something else. The heartache of a
broken family, the physical suffering of illness, the loneliness of rejection,
the mental torture of anxiety or depression—these are not small wounds. These
are deep fractures of heart, mind and body, and no amount of self-actualisation
or personal determination is enough to heal them.
That’s a cheery
message, right?
I’m not even
being sarcastic (never try to be sarcastic in writing, it rarely comes through
the way you intended). The inevitability of pain and suffering that we are
inherently unable to conquer by our own will and power is something that our
society fights tooth and nail. The majority of heroic tales displayed in media
are dedicated to inspiring us against such pain.
But does God
tell us the same thing?
In the Bible,
there are plenty of instances of suffering—plenty.
For now, let’s just take a look at one: the ‘thorn’ in Paul’s flesh. I’m not
entirely sure what exactly this ‘thorn’ was, but whatever it was, it could not
have been pleasant (he describes it as being something sent to him by Satan!).
How does Paul react to this suffering? Well, he does what every Christian
usually does when faced with something we don’t like: he asks God to take it
away. Not once—three times. And how did God—the all-powerful, all-loving
God—respond?
‘My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.’ (2 Corinthians 12:9)
God doesn’t
rescue Paul from his anguish. He doesn’t give Paul the power to save himself and
tear this ‘thorn’ from his hurting flesh. He doesn’t even tell Paul that he can
do it, that it’ll just be a bit longer, that if he just keeps trying, he can
win over the pain. He tells him something we never like to admit when we’re
suffering, and something we certainly don’t like to be told. He told Paul that
he was weak. Paul—Saint Paul, the one
whom the people stoned so badly they thought he was dead, but got back up again
to keep preaching—the same Paul we all admire even to this day—was called weak.
And I hate to
say it, but I honestly believe that God would tell each of us the same thing.
We hate to admit it—to anyone, including ourselves. It is often when we tread
the deepest regions of the valley of death that we refuse to tell anyone where
we are.
‘Mental pain is less dramatic than physical pain, but it is more common and also more hard to bear. The frequent attempt to conceal mental pain increases the burden: it is easier to say “My tooth is aching” than to say “My heart is broken.’
C.S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain
It’s time we faced the facts. You’re not strong enough. You can’t do this. I know I’m killing the mantras of every Disney movie ever produced, but the consequences of not doing so, of not simply admitting that you aren’t capable of brute-forcing your way through your problems, that you can’t simply will your hardship away, are more dangerous than you might think. No, it’s time we realised that we were never strong enough to fight the pain away.
But it can’t
stop there. Never stop there. Stagnating at an admission of weakness will only
mire you in despair. But the truth is deeper than that. Because you’re not strong
enough, it’s true. And you can’t do this, no doubt. But He can. And you were
never alone, not for a single beat of your broken heart.
The perfect
image of this is seen in the Crucifixion, and Kallistos Ware describes the
relationship between our pain and that of Christ beautifully:
‘Christ’s suffering and death have, then, an objective value: he has done for us something we should be altogether incapable of doing without him. At the same time, we should not say that Christ has suffered “instead of us”, but rather that he has suffered on our behalf. The Son of God suffered “unto death”, not that we might exempt from suffering, but that our suffering might be like his. Christ has offered us, not a way round suffering, but a way through it; not substitution, but saving companionship.’
The Orthodox Way, Kallistos Ware
He is strong
enough. He can do this. And sometimes it is only when we are broken, when we
are forced to our knees, that we finally realise that we were never meant to do
this alone. That is finally when we realise that our weakness is our greatest
weapon. When we are weak, when we finally let down our guard and call out for
aid from the only One who can, that is when He can work in us.
Don’t misunderstand me, though. I am not telling you that the solution to all your problems is ‘fast and pray.’ I don’t know how to solve your problem. I don’t even know that your problem can be solved, not in the way we might like. But these periods of suffering, however long they may be, should never be occasions for despair. Our weakness is not our downfall, it is not a tragedy forced upon us. It is an opportunity. The pain of His children is when they can be most like Him, when we most resemble the suffering God, bleeding out on a lonely cross. And that cross was not defeat—it was the greatest victory of all time.
It is in these
moments, when we are hurting, when we are lonely, when we are broken, that we
can truly say with Saint Paul:
‘Therefore most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in needs, in persecutions, in distresses, for Christ’s sake. For when I am weak, then I am stron.’ (2 Corinthians 12:9-10).
