Three Cultural Myths About Pain and Suffering

 

Have you ever been to the Brookstone store?  My family loves to go to there.  Jacob and Jordan take their shoes off and try out every foot massager.  Kendra and I sit down in every one of the body massaging chairs and let the mechanical fingers work their magic.  Jacob, who has no shame, will climb up on the mattress made of NASA-developed memory foam and stretch out.  And I love just looking at their gadgets: bright-as-the-sun micro-flashlights for your keychain; range-finders so you can tell how far the next hole is on the golf-course; and even anti-gravity pens (used by the astronauts) which let you write upside down.  It’s a store centered on comfort—trying to make life as comfortable as possible.

   

David Goetz, in his book Death by Suburb, writes that this kind of comfort has become a defining value in American culture.[i]  Today, to be American is to be comfortable.  We have fast-food so we don’t have the discomfort of preparing our own meals; $6 cups of coffee so we don’t have the discomfort of making our own; and two to three cars per family so we don’t have the discomfort of using public transportation. 

   

A Stanford University study illustrates just how tightly the quest for comfort is woven into the fabric of American culture.[ii]  The study examined American patients and Vietnamese patients who were recovering from fractured thighbones.  It found that the Americans received 20 times more pain killers than the Vietnamese.  It also found that, in spite of such large amounts of painkillers, four-fifths of the Americans still complained of pain.  Only one-fifth of the Vietnamese complained—though they were on lower doses of painkillers.  The author of the study offered this explanation: Americans believe that all pain is treatable.  If we experience any pain, we complain and expect someone or something to get rid of it.

   

Goetz claims that this expectation of comfort even affects American Christianity.  He suggests that most Americans pursue spirituality in the hopes that it will make their lives more comfortable.  We get religious because we hope that God will deal with those things in our lives that are making us uncomfortable—health problems, stress at work, family tensions, and the like.  Goetz calls all of this an “environmental toxin” which makes American Christians spiritually anemic. 

   

Goetz’s ideas provide an opportunity to reflect on pain, suffering, and the spiritual life.  I suggest that there are at least three myths about pain and suffering which are promoted by our comfort seeking culture.  These myths keep us from experiencing an authentic spiritual life.  Each myth is contrasted by the life and writings of a man who, in ancient times, lived a very uncomfortable life.  He demonstrates an alternative to this quest for comfort.

   

One cultural myth about pain and suffering is this: I can have a pain-free life.  This belief is partly what leads some of us to seek a better car, a more lucrative career, a larger house, a spouse, a child, or even a better doctor.  For some of us, there’s a sense that the Holy Grail is out there—the Holy Grail of a pain-free life.  We think, “If I could just get into that subdivision, if I could just switch jobs, if I could just get into that school, if I could just marry that person, if I could just date that person, or if I could just lose this weight, then I wouldn’t have the stresses, difficulties, and pains I have now.  I’d be that much closer to a pain-free life.”

   

Our body’s natural reaction to pain is to alert us that something is wrong and needs to be fixed.  For some of us, our soul’s first reaction to pain is to alert us and say “this is wrong—you need to fix it.”  So, we pursue whatever is needed to end the pain.  There’s a part of us that believes “I can have a pain-free life.”

   

In contrast to this belief, however, we read this summary of Paul’s life, a man who rarely lived free from pain: 24 Five times I received from the Jews the forty lashes minus one. 25 Three times I was beaten with rods, once I was pelted with stones, three times I was shipwrecked, I spent a night and a day in the open sea, 26 I have been constantly on the move. I have been in danger from rivers, in danger from bandits, in danger from my own people, in danger from Gentiles; in danger in the city, in danger in the country, in danger at sea; and in danger from false believers. 27 I have labored and toiled and have often gone without sleep; I have known hunger and thirst and have often gone without food; I have been cold and naked. 28 Besides everything else, I face daily the pressure of my concern for all the churches…Therefore, in order to keep me from becoming conceited; I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. 8 Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. (2 Cor. 11:24-28; 12:7b-8. TNIV)  If we’d like to consider an alternative to our culture’s view of comfort, Paul is the perfect test-case.  He lived a pain-filled life not a pain-free life.

   

Paul does not indicate that his discomfort was somehow abnormal or unusual.  Instead, he suggests it is the norm for those who follow Jesus: 8 Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. 9 But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. 10 That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong…4 For to be sure, he was crucified in weakness, yet he lives by God’s power. Likewise, we are weak in him, yet by God’s power we will live with him in our dealing with you. (2 Cor. 12:8-10; 13:4 TNIV).

   

Paul calls his discomfort “weakness.”  He states that God’s power is made perfect in such weakness.  It is in our discomfort that God’s power becomes more greatly displayed.  In fact, Paul reminds us, Christ himself was weak—what greater discomfort could there have been but the cross?  And, Paul suggests, if we follow this Christ who was crucified in weakness, then “we are weak in him.”  That is, we too will experience weakness.  If Jesus, the one at the center of our lives, had a life characterized by weakness—pain and discomfort—how can we expect any different?  In other words, pain will be a part of our lives, because it was part of Christ’s.

   

McPhee & Co., a retail and mail-order firm, has tried to take advantage of the popular rubber wristbands which many people wear.  You’ve probably seen the bright yellow Lance Armstrong ones which say “Livestrong” or others that carry inspiring messages.  McPhee & Co. offer alternative ones.  For instance, they have one which simply reads “despair.”  When asked by Newsweek to explain the rationale behind these darker bands, the company simply said, “Not every day is a good day.”[iii]  It is an ironic reminder that a pain-free life is a myth.  Whether you live in the suburbs or the city, whether you are rich or poor, whether you are young or old, pain is a fact of life—especially for those who follow a man who was crucified.

   

Rick Warren writes that many of us think of life primarily as a series of peaks and valleys.[iv] The peaks represent times when life is full of comfort and happiness.  The valleys represent times when life is full of discomfort and despair.  Our wish is for a life permanently on the peak.  But Warren suggests that life is not so simple.  Life is not comprised of peak-times during which there is no pain and valley-times during which there is no comfort.  Rather, life is always a mixture of both. 

   

Warren uses the image of railroad tracks to illustrate.  One rail represents good things and good times.  The other rail represents hard times and hard things.  Usually both rails are running through our life.  At any given moment, we tend to have some good things and some bad things.  There’s rarely an absence of either one.  No matter how good things are, there will still be some things in life that cause you pain and discomfort.  And no matter how bad things are, there will still be some things in life that can bring joy and peace.  The question is not Will there be pain in my life?  The question is What am I going to do about the pain in my life? 

   

This, in turn, leads to a second cultural myth about pain and suffering: I can’t be content if I am uncomfortable.  Even when we no longer believe the first lie—I can have a pain-free life—we may find ourselves believing a second lie: “Ok, I’ll admit that pain will always have some presence in my life, especially because I follow a crucified Christ.  But, that means I’ll never be content.  As long as that rail of suffering or discomfort runs through my life, I’ll never really be happy.  Because my child has special needs, because my marriage fell apart, because my job is the pits, or because I have health problems, I’ll never be content.”

   

Yet listen once again to the journal of this man Paul for whom discomfort and suffering were such a part of ordinary life: “10 I rejoiced greatly in the Lord that at last you renewed your concern for me. Indeed, you were concerned, but you had no opportunity to show it. 11 I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. 12 I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. 13 I can do all this through him who gives me strength. (Phil. 4:10-13 TNIV)  Paul is in the midst of pain as he writes.  He is in jail.  But as he reflects on his current and past suffering, he makes this astonishing statement: “I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want…I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances.”  There is an approach to life in which discomfort does not cancel out joy.  Paul’s found it possible to be content even in the presence of pain. 

   

The rest of Philippians explains.  Paul uses the word “joy” or “rejoice” again and again in the letter:

   

I thank my God every time I remember you.  In all my prayers for all of you, I always pray with joy because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now…

   

Now I want you to know, brothers and sisters, that what has happened to me has actually served to advance the gospel.  As a result, it has become clear throughout the whole palace guard and to everyone else that I am in chains for Christ.  And because of my chains, most of the brothers and sisters have become confident in the Lord and dare all the more to proclaim the gospel without fear.  It is true that some preach Christ out of envy and rivalry, but others out of goodwill.  The latter do so out of love, knowing that I am put here for the defense of the gospel.  The former preach Christ out of selfish ambition, not sincerely, supposing that they can stir up trouble for me while I am in chains.  But what does it matter?  The important thing is that in every way, whether from false motives or true, Christ is preached.  And because of this I rejoice…

   

Yes, and I will continue to rejoice, for I know that through your prayers and God’s provision of the Spirit of Jesus Christ what has happened to me will turn out for my deliverance…

   

But even if I am being poured out like a drink offering on the sacrifice and service coming from your faith, I am glad and rejoice with all of you.  So you too should be glad and rejoice with me…

   

Rejoice in the Lord always.  I will say it again: Rejoice!…

   

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things…

   

14 Yet it was good of you to share in my troubles. 15 Moreover, as you Philippians know, in the early days of your acquaintance with the gospel, when I set out from Macedonia, not one church shared with me in the matter of giving and receiving, except you only; 16 for even when I was in Thessalonica, you sent me aid more than once when I was in need. 17 Not that I desire your gifts; what I desire is that more be credited to your account. 18 I have received full payment and have more than enough. I am amply supplied, now that I have received from Epaphroditus the gifts you sent. They are a fragrant offering, an acceptable sacrifice, pleasing to God. (Phil. 1:3-5; 12-18a; 18b-19; 2:17-18; 4:4; 4:8; 4:14-18 TNIV).

   

Paul doesn’t minimize his suffering.  But he does find reason for joy in the midst of his suffering.  Rather than focusing solely on the rail of pain, he focuses also on that rail of joy.  He recognizes that even in this difficult time, there are good things in which he can rejoice: the partnership of the Philippian church, the fact that his imprisonment has opened opportunities to share Jesus with others and has inspired others to preach, and the gifts which the Philippians sent.  Paul chooses to focus on those things in life that are true, noble, right, pure, lovely, and admirable—the good rail, rather than the bad rail.  He is content even in discomfort.

   

I was on the phone a few months ago with a woman who was in the midst of cancer treatments.  She had been a remarkably positive person throughout all of it.  I asked her how she was doing.  And she told me this: “I choose to focus on those things that are good in my life.  I still have many things for which I am grateful.”  Even in the midst of cancer treatments, she had found contentment. 

   

Arthur Ashe was a ground-breaking tennis player when he won Wimbledon in 1975.[v]  Disease later took his life.  Before he passed, however, Ashe wrote in his memoir Days of Grace: “Quite often, people who mean well inquire of me whether I ever ask myself, in the face of my diseases, ‘Why me?’ I never do.  If I ask ‘Why me?’ as I am assaulted by heart disease and AIDS, I must ask ‘Why me?’ about my blessings, and question my right to enjoy them.  The morning after I won Wimbledon in 1975 I should have asked ‘Why me?’ and doubted that I deserved the victory.  If I don’t ask ‘Why me?’ after my victories, I cannot ask ‘Why me?’ after my setbacks and disasters.”  Even in times of discomfort, which we feel we may not deserve, there are blessings and good things if we’ll just open our eyes.  By focusing upon those things, by experiencing the joy God does have for us, even in discomfort we can be content.

   

But even after overcoming these first two cultural myths, some of us may still wrestle with a third: My life should have as little discomfort as possible.  We may think to ourselves, “Ok, I accept there’s going to be some pain, but let’s make it as little as possible.  Ok, I accept that in times of suffering, I can find things which bring contentment, but let’s make those times of suffering as rare as possible.”  We do all we can to minimize times of discomfort, pain, and suffering.  And who blames us?  No one wants to suffer.

   

But let’s consider Paul, the ancient sufferer, one last time.  Let’s read his journal of suffering once again.  As we’ve seen, Paul reflects on pain and suffering in 2 Corinthians and Philippians.  A third place in which he journals about discomfort is Romans: 18 I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us. 19 The creation waits in eager expectation for the children of God to be revealed. 20 For the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope 21 that the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the freedom and glory of the children of God.  22 We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. 23 Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption, the redemption of our bodies. 24 For in this hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what they already have? 25 But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently.  26 In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans. 27 And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for God’s people in accordance with the will of God.   28 And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. 29 For those God foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brothers and sisters. 30 And those he predestined, he also called; those he called, he also justified; those he justified, he also glorified.  31 What, then, shall we say in response to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? 32 He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things? 33 Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen? It is God who justifies. 34 Who then can condemn? No one. Christ Jesus who died—more than that, who was raised to life—is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us. 35 Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? 36 As it is written:  “For your sake we face death all day long;  we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.” 37 No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. 38 For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, 39 neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Rom. 8:18-39 TNIV). 

   

Paul writes of his “present sufferings” (8:18), “weakness” (8:26) and “trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword” (8:35).  The passage is a reflection upon pain and suffering.  More specifically, it is a reflection upon how suffering can be used by God.  Paul writes in 8:28-29 that in all things—including the suffering, weakness, trouble, hardship, persecution, famine, nakedness, danger, and sword of which he’s written—God works for our good.  And what is that good?  Our being conformed to the image of Jesus.  Our becoming Christlike.  The transformation of our character and our values.  God is able to take discomfort and use it to shape our character.  He is able to take pain and use it to shape the kind of person we are.  In his hands, suffering becomes a tool by which we are transformed into Christlikeness.

   

God uses discomfort to make us mature and complete.  It becomes the woodworker’s sandpaper smoothing off the rough edges of our personality.  It becomes the sculptor’s knife carving off anything of our spirit and character that does not resemble Christ.  It becomes the metallurgist’s fire burning away anything of our heart and mind that is impure.  It cannot and will not separate us from God.  Paul was convinced that we are in God’s hand no matter how bad the pain.  But as he holds us in his hand, God can use discomfort, pain, and suffering toward the greatest good: our transformation into the image of Jesus.

   

Rex and his wife Laura were friends of mine a few years ago.  Their first child died while still an infant.  It was a devastating blow to this young couple.  Few things are as painful as the loss of a child.  I once heard Rex speak about that loss and its impact on his life.  One of the things he talked about was the way in which God had used the experience to shape his character.  He and his wife have devoted themselves now to ministering to other couples who have lost children—something they never would have done having not gone through their own loss.  In addition, Rex said he had come to believe that even through this death, God was working for his good; working to transform him into the man God desired him to be.  It may be the most difficult reality to face.  But the pains of life can result in some of the greatest good of life.

   

Fred Craddock writes of going to the hospital once.[vi]  A lady from his church was facing the first surgery she had ever faced in her life.  And it was a major surgery.  When Craddock walked into the room, the woman was a nervous wreck.  She started crying.  Craddock prayed with her.  Then he noticed what was on her bedside table: romance novels, newspaper tabloids, and magazines about Hollywood stars.  And it occurred to him: “There’s not a calorie in that whole stack to help her through her experience.” 

Paul’s life gives us not just a few calories but an entire feast which can help us through the experience of pain and suffering.  In contrast to the cultural myth that we can have a pain-free life, he demonstrates that pain can be expected, especially for those who follow a crucified Jesus.  In contrast to the myth that we cannot be content if we are in discomfort, Paul demonstrates that even in discomfort life offers things that can bring joy—if we’ll just focus on them.  And in contrast to the myth that life should have as little discomfort as possible, Paul demonstrates how the greatest good in life—becoming like Jesus—doesn’t happen without the fire of pain.