The Theology of Suffering & The Resurrection

             As Gary R. Habermas relayed the story of his wife’s death due to stomach cancer in his book, The Risen Jesus & Future Hope, tears stung my eyes and a knot formed in my stomach. His wife was 43 when she succumbed to cancer, the same age my husband was when he died from blunt force trauma. Habermas was very transparent as he shared his fears and doubts.[1] Through studying Job he discovered that Job’s real problem was his inability to understand the circumstances he was questioning.[2] This seems to be a common theme when considering the theology of suffering.

            The problem of evil has been a philosophical argument against the existence of God since Epicurus first formulated and classically stated the problem. Why would an omnibenevolent God allow suffering and pain in the world? What do believers do with the theology of suffering? The crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus Christ answers these questions and more.

            On Mother’s Day 2015, my children and I watched as their devoted father and my loving husband lost his footing and slid belly first down a granite slope until he disappeared over the ledge. He continued to tumble like a rag doll for over 100 feet until his head crashed into a tree stump and stopped his descent. When we reached him he was still alive, but it was only his brain stem that was still functioning as he moaned and thrashed around like a wounded animal. His skull was cracked and his scalp hung from the back of his head. We held him on a steep slope for over an hour waiting for the EMT’s to arrive, constantly in fear of our own lives, knowing there was 60 more feet to fall. When the EMT’s arrived they hurried everyone out of the area knowing it was too dangerous. They worked on him for hours, but as he was strapped to a board being lifted by a helicopter to the life flight crew, he died. Life would never be normal again.

            As we all struggled through post-traumatic stress disorder and the loss of our leader, the one question I asked God continually was, “Why? Why did he have to die in such a traumatic way? He could have died from a heart attack or a car accident—anything that did not involve my children being traumatized in the process.” God kept taking me to the Garden of Gethsemane, where Jesus anguished over what lay ahead. Then God took me to the flogging and the humiliation Jesus suffered in the hands of His tormenters. God reminded me, just as He reminded Habermas, that He had watched His son die a humiliating, brutal death and Jesus was only 33.[3] “I understand your pain,” God whispered to me in my despair and brokenness. I realized that God was the only one who could understand my pain perfectly.

            Why does God allow suffering? Vince Vitale suggests that it is because He desires to create a specific community of individuals, and suffering allows Him to obtain precisely that community.[4] In Ephesian 1.4-5, Paul tells us that God chose us before the foundation of the world to be holy and blameless and adopted us as His children. If we consider that God’s own Son learned obedience through suffering, how can we truly believe it should be different for us?[5] Philippians 2.8 states that Jesus humbled Himself and was obedient unto death. How can we hope to escape the circumstances of living in a fallen world? Through suffering we are transformed into new beings, and as we seek consolation in God’s mercy and grace, we are comforted.

My hope through all of this has been in the resurrection. Because Jesus bodily rose from the dead, I will see my husband again. I know where he is. Through Jesus’ suffering, death, and resurrection there is hope for all mankind. Although there are several reasons mankind suffers in the world, Jesus’ death and resurrection is the answer to them all. Something I wrote to be read at my husband’s celebration of life sums up how the crucifixion and resurrection are tied to the theology of suffering:

“Tragedy did strike our happy home. The bliss I have known, the love and the beauty of a fulfilled marriage, have been ripped from my hands by an incident too terrible for words. However even though I am completely broken, I am still blessed. God gave me the most exquisite gift, one forged through the flames and polished to a golden glow. I will never stop praising the name of the One who allowed me to know what it was to be Woody’s wife. Broken and blessed by the One who blessed me ultimately through His brokenness.”

            We will suffer in this lifetime. However, because of the resurrection our mourning will be turned to joy. I no longer view the trials we continue to face because of that fateful day in the same way I did before trauma marked our lives. I know I will never suffer to the point Jesus did, and I know I am never alone in my pain. Slowly, I am being transformed, as the dross is removed. God will continue to polish me until He is able to see His reflection in my life, and like it or not that requires suffering.

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[1] See chapter eight in Gary R. Habermas, The Risen Jesus & Future Hope (Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield, 2003).

[2] Ibid. 190.

[3] Ibid. 194.

[4] Ravi Zacharias and Vince Vitale, Why Suffering? Finding Meaning and Comfort When Life Doesn’t Make Sense (New York: Faith Words, 2014), 71.

[5] See Hebrews 5.8.

Racism

March 7, 1965, peaceful protests organized by nonviolent activists in defiance of segregation and to support the African-American’s constitutional right to vote began in Selma, Alabama. About 600 civilians made it about six blocks when law enforcement officials attacked the unarmed crowd with clubs and tear gas. Amelia Boynton, who organized the march, was beaten until she was unconscious. This event came to be known as “Bloody Sunday.”

Fifty-five years later we have made little progress. Peaceful protesters in D.C. were attacked with tear gas on June 1, 2020, as they marched in hopes of bringing about justice for people of color. How have we progressed so little? First, 55 years is not that long. If you look at the history of America and its treatment of individuals originating in Africa and the West Indies, 55 years equates to 0.03% of the time since slaves first arrived in Jamestown in 1619. The majority of their history has been lived in oppression—99.97% to be exact. Studies have shown that the emotional costs of racism can and are transmitted through generations (Hays & Erford, 2018). Considering this, how can you as an American of European descent be surprised by our brothers’ and sisters’ of color reactions to recent events?

It has been 55 years since Bloody Sunday, and African Americans are still being harassed and silenced by the majority of Euro-Americans. We don’t want to talk about racism because in our ignorance we want to believe it does not exist. White privilege allows a white person to believe such a lie. We want to sip our lattes in our hipster coffee shops in the suburbs and believe what is happening in our country right now only occurs in poverty stricken, urban areas of  the metropolis. We have black neighbors in our gated communities so we assume all is right with the world. “See,” we arrogantly think, “if you work as hard as I did you will have the same opportunities.” Wrong! Your black neighbor had to work twice as hard to succeed. You believe in the “Myth of Meritocracy,” which states all people regardless of ethnicity can succeed if they try (Hays & Erford, 2018). It is so easy for a white person to believe in such a myth. For you, the playing field is even. Wake up! Talk to your black neighbor and ask him to tell you his story in all its ugly glory. You will discover just how often he was silenced into submission and harassed all because of the extra melanin in his skin.

People, it is time to stop, listen, and do some deep soul-searching. Ask yourself where you have committed microaggressions against people of color. What implicit biases do you hold that you have been inadvertently acting on? Get involved with groups like OneRace that work to improve racial relationships and stop the oppression of people of color in this country.

I do want to say one thing. Not every person of color has the same experience. To say that they do is also a form of racism. However, many have suffered some form of racism, and injustice is injustice. I pray that some day our society can quit making judgments about people based on their skin color, their religion, their social economic status, or... the list goes on and on. Why can't we love all people as image bearers of a God who loves unconditionally?  I do believe change is necessary and if enough of us peacefully but emphatically push for social justice, I believe it can happen. Maybe not in my lifetime, but perhaps in my grandchildren’s.

Reference

Hays, D. G. & Erford, B. T. (2018). Developing multicultural counseling competence: A systems approach (3^rd ed.). Pearson.

The Five Year Mark

In three weeks we will cross the five year mark of Woody’s death. We have survived half a decade since that fateful day. At times, I feel like I’m still on Mount Yonah, trying to hold onto the man who completed my very being, begging God for his life. And at other times, I feel as if that day never happened. I still grieve—for my children more than myself, and for Woody’s parents and brother. Strangely enough, I rarely grieve for my own loss. Am I still in denial, waiting for Woody to return from a prolonged business trip? Or have I busied myself so efficiently I have no time to contemplate what Woody’s death has meant to me? I believe it may be the latter more so than the former. Since Woody’s death I have gone back to school and completed a second undergraduate degree and am nearly finished with my masters. I have single-handedly renovated/remodeled four houses and flipped three, written a book, finished homeschooling my two youngest children, started a grief ministry at my church, and have reentered the work force full-time. Am I avoiding my grief or using it constructively? Who knows.

What I do know is that every step of my journey I have walked in the arms of my Savior. There have been moments where I questioned His presence and felt desperately alone, but at the very core of my existence, I knew He had not abandoned me, nor would he. Yes, it is still a struggle. We are still battling the long-term effects of post-traumatic stress disorder and it is not pretty. I wonder if we will ever know life without suffering. However, I know even in the midst of my sorrow when my heart is heavy and the darkness looms, God is still good! And He will not leave me to travel this path alone.

So as we approach five years I will recall when it was five days and I could barely breathe. I will remember how I doubted my ability to survive. Yet, here I am by the grace of God, standing in awe of His ability to see us through such a harrowing experience and teach us how to live. Because of Him I am a better human being, someone who has learned how to walk through every day with praise on her lips realizing tomorrow is not a guarantee. Yes, three weeks will still be difficult, especially this year since May 10, falls on Mother’s Day once again. But I know the same strength and resilience that has brought me this far will continue to carry me through; and somehow I will continue to breathe.

The Idols of My Heart

“Son of man, these men have set up idols in their hearts and have put sinful stumbling blocks before their faces. Should I be consulted by them at all?”—Ezekiel 14:3

I recently asked God to reveal the idols of my heart—a dangerous prayer to pray, I know. However, I realize that those idols are stumbling blocks which prohibit my growing intimacy with God. As usual, God responded quickly and I’m still not sure I like what He has revealed to me. This idol is one I never would have recognized without the Holy Spirit’s revelation. In fact, I was so comfortable with this idol I believed it was “holy unto the Lord.” And perhaps if I did not spend so much time and energy devoted to this idol it would be. The idol—which is really an idealization of sorts—is not sinful in and of itself. But my devotion to it—obsession really—is.

So, what is this idol? My children’s success.

Long before Woody’s death, I spent the majority of my time trying to ensure the success of my children, which is not wrong. However, over the years, my idea of how success is defined has become an idol. I never wanted my children to make the same mistakes I did. I held their purity up to the world as a badge of success. “Look at my kids,” I seemed to gloat. “They will not date until they are ready to marry. They will not engage in illegal activity or addictive behaviors. They will never get a divorce. They will marry their one true love who will also be a committed, unadulterated Christian. They will remain pure in all ways because we have raised them in a Christian home and have prayed with and over them. We have covered them in prayer, which will shield them from ALL sinful activity. My kids are perfect!” I could not see how self-righteous and boastful my behavior was. I tried to shield my children from engaging in a sinful world by controlling who their friends were and where we lived. I was such a pompous ____ (you can fill in the blank)! I am sickened by my sanctimonious behavior! What was I thinking?

Actually, I know what I was thinking. I was thinking sin is a set of behaviors not recognizing that it is a heart condition. I should have been more concerned about my kids’ hearts than their actions. Trust me, I thought I was because I thought I had the whole parenting thing down to a science. I had read every book on biblical parenting, had attended parenting seminars, and had read the Bible in its entirety several times. I had a relationship with God and had been redeemed from a life of sin. But I was legalistic and hypocritical. I did not understand God’s grace and mercy. I did not understand the doctrine of sin. I did not recognize how sinful my legalism and judgmental attitude were. I had set up an idol in my heart which I would never recognize until it was smashed to pieces.

My children have made every mistake I did and then some. Divorce? That is on the horizon. Illegal behavior? Yep, that too. Addictions? Adultery? Lies? You name it and we’ll claim it. The perfect life I had dreamed for my children’s future has been completely obliterated. The idol of my heart has been revealed and continues to crumble as I type these words. All that time and energy I spent trying to perfect behavior should have been spent devoted to my God and trusting Him with the hearts of my children.

Since Woody’s death, God has slowly been revealing the nature of my heart to me, and this idol is part of the refining process I have been in since May 10, 2015. Although I am sickened by what I see I am also thankful. I know when all the dross is burned away my life will be a reflection of who God is. Yes, it is painful. Nevertheless, I praise God for answering my prayers even when I do not like what is revealed.

Self-Righteous Modern Day Pharisees: A Rant of Sorts

“Once we recognize the universality of sin, we stop trying to convince ourselves that we are good people; we stop trying to compute who is better than whom; and we fall helplessly at the feet of a loving Savior who graciously gives hope meaning, purpose, and peace.” –Mark R. McMinn

“Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her.” –Jesus

How many of you have cast a stone today? I know a few, but out of respect, I will not name them. It is no wonder so many people turn away from the physical church. We are judgmental and self-righteous. We arrogantly quantify and qualify sin until we have alphabetically categorized it. Anger? Everyone can justify that, especially if someone wrongs you. A lie is okay as long as your intentions are good, right? And pride? It’s called self-confidence. And then everyone knows that sexual sin is the worst!

What has become of the church? What happened to the collectivistic nature of sin? When God was dealing with the Israelites, if a few sinned they all suffered. Doesn’t that say something about the responsibility we have to our fellow believers to rescue them from sinful behavior? We cannot rescue them from sin, but we can give them love and encouragement and stand beside them and help them fight the battles of temptation. And when they do sin, should we stand back in judgment, condemning them with our self-righteousness? No! Do we let rage fill our hearts even if the person’s sin has wounded us deeply? No! Or are you the only person who has never harmed another human being through your actions? If so, then I guess you have the right to your anger and condemnation. However, the only person who truly never harmed another human being died to save us from condemnation. I doubt you are holier than that.

People, when will you realize that your self-righteousness is turning people away from a loving, forgiving God who sees us all the same? Benedict of Nursia stated it best in his seventh step of humility: “The seventh step of humility is when we declare with our tongue and believe in our inmost soul that we are the lowliest and vilest of all, humbling ourselves and saying with the Psalmist, ‘But I am a worm, and I am the reproach of all, the outcast of the people.’” That means all of us! You are no better than the murderer, the child abuser, the pedophile, the thief. God is holy and you are not. You can never live up to His standard. You will always fall short, which means you are condemned no matter what you do. However, God sent His son to save us from our sinful condition. And your self-righteousness is repelling the very people Jesus came to save.

My oldest son did something most will find vile, including me. However, I know I am just as vile because I am a sinner. At the time he needs the church the most, it has abandoned him because of the nature of his sin. Now, more than ever he is sick and needs the great Physician to heal his brokenness. Yet the people whom God works through have turned their backs on him. The very people who said, “We will always love you and be here for you,” left as soon as it got too hard and ugly. Sin is ugly—yours as well as mine—none of it is pretty. Jesus lived in our filth after knowing the glory of heaven. You don’t think that was difficult? But He knew He was here to heal the sick and broken. He didn’t sit in the synagogue and say, “Oh, I’ll pray for you,” or “Oh, I’ll send money or goods to those in need.” No, he rolled up his sleeves and loved in very practical ways. He did not abandon us.

I know we will live with this the rest of our lives, and I also know God is working through it. I know there are people who have never experienced the full revelation of grace and therefore, cannot give it. However, watch out. You will reach a point in life when you will need the grace you are not willing to give. Just know, I will still give it to you and so will God.

The Fifth Holiday Season

This is our fifth holiday season as a family of four. The fifth year we will sit around our oversized farm table with room enough for eight and realize one of those chairs will remain empty. The fifth year I will hang Woody’s stocking without stuffing it until it overflows with silly little gifts and his favorite treats. The fifth year…

Shouldn’t I be used to it by now? Shouldn’t I be over it? Maybe, but something about knowing this is the fifth time around the sun since our last holiday season with Woody makes it feel so final and devastating. I feel completely drained—exhausted, really—as we round the bend to another season of thanksgiving and joy.

Do not misunderstand me. I am thankful, and God’s joy fuels me daily. However, sometimes I am angry, angry at Woody for leaving; angry at the pain my children still endure; angry that my life is nothing like I envisioned it would be as I journey through middle-adulthood. So many transitions have occurred during 2019, and as 2020 begins to introduce itself I want to run and hide. I’m tired of trying.

Yet, during those moments of weakness, when my weary soul feels as if it cannot take another step, God gently lifts me from the floor into His loving arms and breathes into me the strength necessary for another day. And because He is faithful I know somehow, some way, we will survive the fifth holiday season

A Fatherless Father's Day

“How are you and the kids doing today?” It’s a valid question, but not one I want to answer.

“Fine,” I respond with a superficial smile, and then we part ways and no one feels awkward. No one feels as if he or she overstepped any boundaries. I know people are still concerned about how we are dealing with the fatal blow we received a little over four years ago. I know it takes a lot of courage to even broach the subject with us. I appreciate every person who remembers and doesn’t just smile and pretend it never happened.

It is difficult to explain how a fatherless Father’s Day feels. I lost my dad nearly eight years ago, and I still wish I could pick up the phone and call him. I miss his voice and his ornery smile.  I miss the love he had for me. And then I think of my children who lost the most amazing daddy I have ever known. They were still children. They had not had the opportunity to know him as an equal. They still needed a father to guide them through the adolescent years into adulthood.

I asked my oldest son today how he was doing. His response was, “I don’t miss dad any more one day over the next.” Perhaps not, but Father’s Day reminds us of our loss. I liken it to a world class soccer player who has had a foot amputated. He will always miss the loss of that foot. However, the loss is amplified every year as the World Cup approaches. That is when he faces the reality that he will never play again. A crucial part of the game has been painfully removed. Watching other players kick and volley is too much; especially when those players take for granted the blessings they still have.

If you still have your father, please do not take that wonderful gift for granted. Love fully everyday realizing life is a precious gift and you do not control when the game begins or ends. A fatherless Father’s Day reminds us all of what we had and what we have lost. So please, make that call or visit and treasure the time you still have.