Being made perfect through suffering
“The Son of God suffered unto the death, not that men might not suffer, but that their sufferings might be like His” – George Macdonald [Unspoken Sermons, First Series]
It would be amiss to say that Christianity is a bed of roses. The Lord told His disciples, “In the world ye shall have tribulation” (John 16:33, emphasis mine). The Greek translation for tribulation is thlipsis, which can be taken, literally or figuratively, to mean: affliction, anguish, burden, persecution or trouble. Jesus’ message is clear: If you belong to me, you will have trouble in this world. The purpose of this article is to show that tribulation, pain, heartache – call it what you wish – is both necessary and beneficial to the Christian and non-Christian alike. Pain is in fact, one of God’s chief tools in conforming us to the likeness of Jesus. “For it became him, for whom are all things, and by whom are all things, in bringing many sons unto glory, to make the captain of their salvation perfect through sufferings.” (Hebrews 2:10, emphasis mine)
Every child of God will have some trial or another; but every man who has a trial is not necessarily a child of God (we are all God’s creation, not children; see John 8:44). Afflictions are no proof of sonship, but sonship always ensures affliction. With regards to human pain (generally), we note the following. Pain shatters the illusion that we can continue in an unrepentant state of rebellion, declaring, “All serene!” Until such a man finds evil unmistakably present in his existence, in the form of pain, he will remain blind. Once pain has roused him, he knows that he is in some way or the other “up against” something much more real than himself. He therefore either rebels or makes some attempt at an adjustment, which, if pursued, will lead him to religion. No doubt many of you in the aftermath of natural disasters have heard the ungodly cry: “What sort of God would allow this? What have these “innocent” people ever done?” In this case, pain may lead to final and unrepented rebellion. But it is the only opportunity the ungodly have to begin the process of reconciliation. As C.S. Lewis says, “It removes the veil; it plants the flag of truth within the fortress of a rebel soul.”
The second operation of pain, is that it removes the idea that what we have, is itself, “ours” and enough for us. As someone put it, “We regard God as an airman regards his parachute; it’s there for emergencies but he hopes he’ll never have to use it.” God, who has made us, knows what we are and that our happiness lies in, not outside of, Him. Yet we will not seek Him as long as He leaves us any other resort where it [happiness] can even remotely be looked for. While what we call “our own life” remains agreeable we will not surrender it to Him. What then can God do in our interests but make “our own life” less than agreeable to us. In this age where “no one is wrong”, God’s method here might seem cruel to us. We are baffled as misfortune falls upon “good, decent, hard-working” folk.
How can I say, with sufficient tenderness, what now needs to be said. Our illusion of self-sufficiency must, for our sake, be absolutely shattered. And by trouble, persecution, pain on earth, by the crude fear of eternal flames, God shatters it. This of course seems repugnant to the modern mind. But the modern mind, is, quite frankly; not too bright in divine matters (Isaiah 55:8). Modern people who would like the God of the Bible to be purely ethical, do not know what they ask. If man had to come to God from his own motives, who could be saved? This illusion of self-sufficiency is often at its strongest in the some very “decent”, “kind” and “good” people. On such people, therefore; misfortune must fall. There is an inherent danger in self-sufficiency: why ask for your daily bread, when you own the bakery? This explains why Jesus regards the vices of the feckless and dissipated so much more leniently than the vices that lead to worldly success. The feckless are dissipated are in no danger of finding their present life so satisfactory that they cannot turn to God. The proud, the avaricious, those who are so full of themselves that there is no room for Christ, are in that danger.
Consider the following illustration from Lewis. “I am progressing along the path of life in my ordinary contentedly fallen and godless condition, absorbed in a merry meeting with my friends for the morrow or a bit of work that tickles my vanity today, a holiday or a new book, when suddenly a stab of abdominal pain that threatens serious disease, or a headline in the newspapers that threaten us all with destruction, sends this whole pack of cards tumbling down. At first I am overwhelmed, and all my little happiness look like broken toys. Then, slowly and reluctantly, bit by bit, I try to bring myself into the frame of mind that I should be in at all times. I remind myself that all these toys were never intended to possess my heart, that my true good is in another world and my only real treasure is Christ. But the moment that threat it withdrawn, my whole nature leaps back to the toys: I am even anxious, God forgive me, to banish from my mind the only thing that supported me under the threat because it is now associated with the misery of those few days. Therefore the terrible necessity of tribulation is only too clear. And that is why tribulations cannot cease until God either sees us remade or sees that our remaking is now hopeless.”
One of the unalterable laws of nature and grace is this – all things that are of any value must endure fire. Have you ever seen a precious thing which did not have a trial? Consider jewels. The diamond must be cut (and hard cutting that poor diamond has). If it were capable of feeling pain, nothing would be more “fretted and worried about”, than a diamond. Gold must be tried. It cannot be used as it is dug up from the mine, or in grains as it is found in the rivers. It must pass through the crucible and have the dross taken away. Silver too must be tried. Be sure of this – everything that is precious must be tried. It stands to reason therefore, that God would test (not tempt) His (precious) children.
Most of us are familiar with Abraham’s “trial” in Genesis 22. This raises the obvious question: “If God is omniscient. He must have known what Abraham would do, without any experiment; why then this needless torture?” But as St. Augustine points out (De Civitate Dei xvi, xxxii) whatever God knew; Abraham at any rate did not know that his obedience could endure such a command until the event taught him: and the obedience which he did not know that he would choose, he cannot be said to have chosen. The reality of Abraham’s obedience was the act itself; and what God knew in knowing that Abraham “would obey” was Abraham’s actual obedience on that mountain top at that moment. To say that God “need not have tried the experiment” is to say that because God knows, the thing known by God need not exist. This is of course, utterly out of court.
In the same way Abraham learned obedience though this “trial”, so too Christ. For it is written, “Though he were a Son, yet learned he obedience by the things which he suffered;” (Hebrews 5:8, emphasis mine) If you are looking for God’s people, try the furnace (Isaiah 48:10). Remember Noah? There we find a man who was laughed at, considered a fool, a simpleton even! Building a ship upon dry land indeed! Christian, stand firm in the furnace of slander and laughter. History reveals that all of God’s great servants were tried in the furnace: Noah, Abraham, Jacob. All tried and tested. Therefore we should, “count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations; Knowing this, that the trying of your faith worketh patience. But let patience have her perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing.” (James 1:2-4, emphasis mine)
We are sent to proclaim “peace on earth, and good-will towards men”, yet we must expect tribulation and ill-will from men. This is the lot of Christ’s disciples. It is through the pain, and heartache of this world that we are made perfect in God’s sight. It is only if we suffer for, and with Christ, that we shall reign with Him.
It would be amiss to say that Christianity is a bed of roses. The Lord told His disciples, “In the world ye shall have tribulation” (John 16:33, emphasis mine). The Greek translation for tribulation is thlipsis, which can be taken, literally or figuratively, to mean: affliction, anguish, burden, persecution or trouble. Jesus’ message is clear: If you belong to me, you will have trouble in this world. The purpose of this article is to show that tribulation, pain, heartache – call it what you wish – is both necessary and beneficial to the Christian and non-Christian alike. Pain is in fact, one of God’s chief tools in conforming us to the likeness of Jesus. “For it became him, for whom are all things, and by whom are all things, in bringing many sons unto glory, to make the captain of their salvation perfect through sufferings.” (Hebrews 2:10, emphasis mine)
Every child of God will have some trial or another; but every man who has a trial is not necessarily a child of God (we are all God’s creation, not children; see John 8:44). Afflictions are no proof of sonship, but sonship always ensures affliction. With regards to human pain (generally), we note the following. Pain shatters the illusion that we can continue in an unrepentant state of rebellion, declaring, “All serene!” Until such a man finds evil unmistakably present in his existence, in the form of pain, he will remain blind. Once pain has roused him, he knows that he is in some way or the other “up against” something much more real than himself. He therefore either rebels or makes some attempt at an adjustment, which, if pursued, will lead him to religion. No doubt many of you in the aftermath of natural disasters have heard the ungodly cry: “What sort of God would allow this? What have these “innocent” people ever done?” In this case, pain may lead to final and unrepented rebellion. But it is the only opportunity the ungodly have to begin the process of reconciliation. As C.S. Lewis says, “It removes the veil; it plants the flag of truth within the fortress of a rebel soul.”
The second operation of pain, is that it removes the idea that what we have, is itself, “ours” and enough for us. As someone put it, “We regard God as an airman regards his parachute; it’s there for emergencies but he hopes he’ll never have to use it.” God, who has made us, knows what we are and that our happiness lies in, not outside of, Him. Yet we will not seek Him as long as He leaves us any other resort where it [happiness] can even remotely be looked for. While what we call “our own life” remains agreeable we will not surrender it to Him. What then can God do in our interests but make “our own life” less than agreeable to us. In this age where “no one is wrong”, God’s method here might seem cruel to us. We are baffled as misfortune falls upon “good, decent, hard-working” folk.
How can I say, with sufficient tenderness, what now needs to be said. Our illusion of self-sufficiency must, for our sake, be absolutely shattered. And by trouble, persecution, pain on earth, by the crude fear of eternal flames, God shatters it. This of course seems repugnant to the modern mind. But the modern mind, is, quite frankly; not too bright in divine matters (Isaiah 55:8). Modern people who would like the God of the Bible to be purely ethical, do not know what they ask. If man had to come to God from his own motives, who could be saved? This illusion of self-sufficiency is often at its strongest in the some very “decent”, “kind” and “good” people. On such people, therefore; misfortune must fall. There is an inherent danger in self-sufficiency: why ask for your daily bread, when you own the bakery? This explains why Jesus regards the vices of the feckless and dissipated so much more leniently than the vices that lead to worldly success. The feckless are dissipated are in no danger of finding their present life so satisfactory that they cannot turn to God. The proud, the avaricious, those who are so full of themselves that there is no room for Christ, are in that danger.
Consider the following illustration from Lewis. “I am progressing along the path of life in my ordinary contentedly fallen and godless condition, absorbed in a merry meeting with my friends for the morrow or a bit of work that tickles my vanity today, a holiday or a new book, when suddenly a stab of abdominal pain that threatens serious disease, or a headline in the newspapers that threaten us all with destruction, sends this whole pack of cards tumbling down. At first I am overwhelmed, and all my little happiness look like broken toys. Then, slowly and reluctantly, bit by bit, I try to bring myself into the frame of mind that I should be in at all times. I remind myself that all these toys were never intended to possess my heart, that my true good is in another world and my only real treasure is Christ. But the moment that threat it withdrawn, my whole nature leaps back to the toys: I am even anxious, God forgive me, to banish from my mind the only thing that supported me under the threat because it is now associated with the misery of those few days. Therefore the terrible necessity of tribulation is only too clear. And that is why tribulations cannot cease until God either sees us remade or sees that our remaking is now hopeless.”
One of the unalterable laws of nature and grace is this – all things that are of any value must endure fire. Have you ever seen a precious thing which did not have a trial? Consider jewels. The diamond must be cut (and hard cutting that poor diamond has). If it were capable of feeling pain, nothing would be more “fretted and worried about”, than a diamond. Gold must be tried. It cannot be used as it is dug up from the mine, or in grains as it is found in the rivers. It must pass through the crucible and have the dross taken away. Silver too must be tried. Be sure of this – everything that is precious must be tried. It stands to reason therefore, that God would test (not tempt) His (precious) children.
Most of us are familiar with Abraham’s “trial” in Genesis 22. This raises the obvious question: “If God is omniscient. He must have known what Abraham would do, without any experiment; why then this needless torture?” But as St. Augustine points out (De Civitate Dei xvi, xxxii) whatever God knew; Abraham at any rate did not know that his obedience could endure such a command until the event taught him: and the obedience which he did not know that he would choose, he cannot be said to have chosen. The reality of Abraham’s obedience was the act itself; and what God knew in knowing that Abraham “would obey” was Abraham’s actual obedience on that mountain top at that moment. To say that God “need not have tried the experiment” is to say that because God knows, the thing known by God need not exist. This is of course, utterly out of court.
In the same way Abraham learned obedience though this “trial”, so too Christ. For it is written, “Though he were a Son, yet learned he obedience by the things which he suffered;” (Hebrews 5:8, emphasis mine) If you are looking for God’s people, try the furnace (Isaiah 48:10). Remember Noah? There we find a man who was laughed at, considered a fool, a simpleton even! Building a ship upon dry land indeed! Christian, stand firm in the furnace of slander and laughter. History reveals that all of God’s great servants were tried in the furnace: Noah, Abraham, Jacob. All tried and tested. Therefore we should, “count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations; Knowing this, that the trying of your faith worketh patience. But let patience have her perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing.” (James 1:2-4, emphasis mine)
We are sent to proclaim “peace on earth, and good-will towards men”, yet we must expect tribulation and ill-will from men. This is the lot of Christ’s disciples. It is through the pain, and heartache of this world that we are made perfect in God’s sight. It is only if we suffer for, and with Christ, that we shall reign with Him.
