On January 23, 2002, Daniel Pearl, an Asian Wall Street Journal reporter covering the ‘war on terrorism’, was abducted in Karachi, Pakistan. For four weeks he suffered as a hostage in a small cell, frequently tortured, finally killed. His death was confirmed on February 21, 2002, by a video that the police and his family received, depicting his gruesome killing. (Four of the kidnappers were convicted on July 15, 2002, including mastermind Omar Saeed Sheik, although others believed to be involved are still at large.)
WHY?
Headlines from yesterday’s BBCNEWS.COM website:
Violence hits Sri Lanka port town
At least three security personnel and a civilian have been killed in the port town of Trincomalee in north-eastern Sri Lanka, officials say.
Gunmen kill police in Afghanistan
Six policemen have been killed by suspected
Taleban insurgents in the southern Afghan province of Kandahar.
China reports 12th bird flu death
A migrant worker has become the 12th Chinese person to die of bird flu.
Flash floods kill 23 in Indonesia
Flash floods and landslides triggered by monsoon rain have killed at least 23 people in Indonesia, the state news agency Antara reports.
Lucie trial told of mother's pain
The mother of Lucie Blackman, found dead in a Japanese village six years ago, has told a Tokyo court of her "unrelenting pain" since the killing
WHY?
There is no doubt: There is a lot of suffering in this world. Suffering is very real.
We have a unique relationship with suffering – the suffering of others. Sometimes we can emphasise, sometimes we are appalled, sometimes intrigued. Videos of gruesome hostage killings in Iraq make their way into our email inboxes via the internet – and people watch with morbid fascination.
People loved watching Mel Gibson’s ‘The Passion of the Christ’ – not because it’s a good movie but because of its gory and bloody scenes of suffering.
In the 2005 horror movie, ‘Hostel’, which is based on a true story, Americans are lured to Slovakia, where they're told beautiful girls will have sex with anyone with an American accent. Unfortunately, the girls will also sell young Americans to a company that offers victims to anyone who will pay to torture and murder. The sardonic joke, of course, is that Americans are worth the most in this brothel of blood because everyone else in the world wants to take revenge upon them.
People have flocked to see the movie in the USA and undoubtedly will do so in Singapore.
So our relationship to suffering, real or pretend, is at best ambivalent when the suffering of others is concerned. We have almost academic discussions about the reasons behind it and how we can help, if we can and want to help at all.
Things are different when it comes to our personal suffering. All of a sudden it’s not entertaining any more, and we don’t just ask ‘Why?’. We ask ‘Why Me?’. We are full of consternation that it is us who have to suffer – unfairly, of course.
And how about the things that make us suffer? Two categories come to mind – avoidable and unavoidable.
The kind of avoidable suffering that we see – maybe avoidable but nonetheless real – is when we feel we don’t live up to the world’s, our family’s or peers’ expectations. Based on the illusion that we can build our self-worth on other people’s approval, we make ourselves dependent on their judgment. A mistake that can be fatal.
The case of the 18 year old JC student who on 3 March jumped to his death from a Bedok housing block, because he was convinced his private parts were too small, has led to a lively (sometimes graphic) email discussion in my cell group’s mailing list. The learning was that porn is bad for you – not just any porn, but particularly Western porn which may suggest a feeling of inadequacy.
Overall, a case of avoidable, unnecessary suffering – but fatal nonetheless.
How about unavoidable suffering?
Christmas 1984, age 23, I was diagnosed to be suffering from skin cancer. I was a student at the time, and my dermatologist had discovered a mole on my leg that she thought looked strange. So she cut it out to have it analysed. Then she called me and asked me to come to her clinic. ‘No time’, was my reply, ‘I am writing an essay. Can’t you just tell me over the phone?’ ‘No’, she insisted, I had to come see her. Today. So I went and she told me that the results showed that it was a malignant melanoma. Skin Cancer. They did not know how deep it went and whether it had come in contact with a vein, allowing it to spread throughout my body. She said they’d have to take out a bigger chunk around it, about the size of a fist, and do a lot of tests to find out whether it had spread. So the next day I moved into the university hospital and was operated on in the afternoon. They cut out the skin and covered the wound with a graft from my other leg, under local anesthesia. I spent the next four weeks in hospital, waiting for my leg to heal and undergoing a myriad of tests. On Christmas day my family came, brought me a fun-size Christmas tree and sang carols by my bed. Finally, the results: It had not yet spread. I had to go for check-ups twice a year – I still do – but chances are we found it early enough.
I believe there are people, in every society and thus also here in Singapore, who hardly suffer. They come from a well-to-do family, do well at school, study, get a well paying job, marry, have children, and live their lives in a protected bubble, in a PAP utopia. Nothing wrong with that.
But many of us here this morning, if not all of us, are not like them. We got to know suffering very early in our lives because we’re different – because of a disability. Because of our female gender in a male-dominated world. Because of belonging to a minority race that the majority looks down on. Because of our sexual orientation. Because of our political conviction. Sometimes, because of our faith.
Because we’re different, people make us suffer. They look down on us and say: You’re worthless. You’re second class. And hearing it over and over again, many of us take it to heart, start believing it and add to our own suffering.
And sometimes it seems that being Christian does not help. It can actually make it worse.
In my cell group, we’re currently discussing Philip Yancey’s “The Jesus I never knew”. And for the past two Tuesday’s the book dealt with the Beatitudes.
You’re all familiar with the Beatitudes. We did a sermon-series on them. And still, Jesus’ ‘Blessed are…’ seem like a recipe for suffering. Or, as one of my cell group members called it: ‘The Beatitudes seem to tell us to become a doormat.’
Isn’t it true?
Let’s look at Matthew 5 again:
(3)"Blessed are the poor in spirit,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
(4)Blessed are those who mourn,
for they will be comforted.
(5)Blessed are the meek,
for they will inherit the earth.
(6)Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
for they will be filled.
(7)Blessed are the merciful,
for they will be shown mercy.
(8)Blessed are the pure in heart,
for they will see God.
(9)Blessed are the peacemakers,
for they will be called sons of God.
(10)Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
(11)"Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. (12)Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.
When we discussed this, we collected the adjectives that describe how Jesus says we should be: gentle, peace-loving, forgiving, humble, meek, merciful, pure.
Then we turned the page and compared these with adjectives we had written down earlier – that describe how we have to be in order to be successful in this world: strong, clever, kick-ass, dominant, aggressive.
Pretty much the opposite. So if we follow the beatitudes – are we signing up for a life of suffering as a doormat?
In a way, we do.
In other ways, no. There is actually a positive side to suffering.
When I lay in hospital in 1984 waiting for my results, what did I think about? Of course – that my life could be over soon. I remember listening to the Carpenter’s ‘We’ve only just begun … to live’ and it made me cry. ‘So much of life ahead’ – well maybe not. Then, when I got the results, it was like I was given a second life. It’s a cliché but that’s how I felt. From then on, I lived differently – more intense, not taking anything for granted. In a way, my suffering (more mental than physical) had resulted in something positive – a new, positive outlook on life.
And if you’re a minority of sorts – life isn’t easy. You have to hide, to lie, you question yourself and you blame yourself, or God, but hardly ever the others. But you can also understand people that are marginalized for other reasons – when they tell you their story about how people looked down on them, cut them out, you know. You know how that feels. You’ve been there. You can comfort them and they can feel that you mean it and that you – understand.
There is a stupid saying ‘what doesn’t kill us, makes us stronger’. It’s stupid because the way it is often used, it denies acknowledgement for suffering and often accepts injustice. It ignores that there are fates worse than death. But it is also true – suffering CAN build character. Once you have gone through the abuse, the trauma, the pain, the self-doubt, the rejection – you survive and become a stronger person. You learn to accept and to resist. You grow a thick skin – out of pure survival instinct.
And suffering – dare I say it? – will be rewarded.
In this life. And in the next.
In this life? Yes, because the world is not that bad. We haven’t reached a stage where we can only be successful by back-stabbing and ass-kicking. If we apply some of the traits from the beatitudes, we can be rewarded, too. But we have to re-define what we mean with ‘reward’ or ‘success’. It is less likely going to be the window office and the corporate jet – more likely the true appreciation and even affection of those we teach, those we work with, who can see how hard we try to be a better person and who enjoy being with us.
And in the next life?
Isn’t that a cop-out, used by the church for centuries to keep Christians quiet sufferers on earth, easy to mislead and abuse? Isn’t that pie in the sky that may or may not happen?
Not if we believe in the Bible. We have been given wonderful assurances that God will end and reward our suffering:
Job 36:14-16
(15) But those who suffer he delivers in their suffering; he speaks to them in their affliction.
(16) "He is wooing you from the jaws of distress to a spacious place free from restriction, to the comfort of your table laden with choice food.
So where is that spacious place free from restriction? It’s not in this world. So are we all guaranteed a place at that table? Everyone of us? Sounds to good to be true.
As you all know – it’s not THAT easy. There is a catch. Normally, we don’t qualify. It’s like a V V VIP party – you have to have a special pass, a ticket. Security is extremely tight. The bouncers are 7 feet tall and blindingly white and have a scary-looking sword. Better not mess with them. But where is the ticket? We had it once. A long time ago. But since then we lost it. Sold it. Traded it in for a momentary pleasure that we don’t even remember. Felt it dissolve in our pocket when we hit a child, made a racist joke, did not help the beggar.
How can we get it back?
There is no way we can earn it back. We may feel sorry for what we have done – yes actually, we are, we realize now what we should have done, we believe now…but we cannot earn the ticket back. All our suffering, all persecution, all money in this world cannot get us the ticket back.
Then we hear there are new tickets at the box office. One each. Enough for all. Brand new, fresh from the printer. We all run there, push people aside. But when we get to the small window, searching for cash in our pockets, we see the sign:
No Cash. No cheques. No credit cards.
Only acceptable payment: Suffering.
‘Ok, fine, no problem, I have suffered – a lot!’ you say to the man behind the window. But he shakes his head. ‘But why? It says you accept suffering!’ ‘Yes’, he says slowly, looking directly at you through the people waving dollar bills in his face because they still haven’t got it. ‘Yes, suffering. But not yours.’ ‘Not mine? Then whose?’
Luke 24
(45)Then he opened their minds so they could understand the Scriptures. (46)He told them, "This is what is written: The Christ will suffer and rise from the dead on the third day, (47)and repentance and forgiveness of sins will be preached in his name to all nations, beginning at Jerusalem. (48)You are witnesses of these things. (49)I am going to send you what my Father has promised; but stay in the city until you have been clothed with power from on high."
Jesus pain and suffering on the cross is the currency that buys us the new entry-ticket to the next world. The new life. It can start today. It won’t mean that we won’t suffer any more. But we will be able to take it, because we know – it won’t last. We’ve got the ticket out of here.
Let us pray, with Philip Yancey:
We are blessed. I am blessed.
I am blessed because in my loneliness, my fears, and my inner struggles, you have promised me a beautiful future. That promise helps me see my struggles with new eyes.
I am blessed as I grieve. In the depths of my sorrow you, Jesus, meet me and mourn with me, bringing comfort in unexpected ways.
I am blessed in choosing not to exalt myself. This means that I get overlooked at times, but I am living for you, God, not for the acclaim of men and women. Someday I’ll be glad I chose the way of humility.
I am blessed in my yearnings to live as you did, Jesus. God is faithful to me as I ponder Your righteous ways and pray for the Spirit to guide how I live and who I am.
I am blessed because I choose to chow mercy, even when others don’t really deserve it. I see much in me that is undeserving, yet you, Jesus, have been merciful again and again.
I am blessed because I am careful about what I do, see, read and think about. I want to be pure because this is when I can see you most clearly. This is when I feel closest to you, Lord.
I am blessed because I long for peace among those around me. I desire to enter into the world of others to better understand and come alongside them. I am willing to do what is uncomfortable for the sake of peace, following in your footsteps. Jesus.
I am blessed when, because of my loyalty to You, others look down on me, violate my God-given rights, lie about me with evil intent, or hurt me. This world is not my home, and persecution blesses me because it is a reminder of the kingdom of heaven that awaits me.
Amen.
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