Trinity Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.)
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So,
this week we come to the end of
our lectionary journey through Peter’s letter.
And
bless his heart,
once again we find him on the theme of suffering.
Really,
he seems rather masochistic by modern standards.
Were
Peter to approach a modern-day pastor,
with this fixation on suffering,
we’d probably send him to a psychotherapist.
Yet
in his time,
his was a message that the Christians desperately needed to hear.
In
the past few weeks,
we’ve talked about the sorts of persecutions
his readers may have undergone,
and how tempting it must have been
to stray from the right path …
We’ve
talked about how in ancient times,
people didn’t have the same expectation we do
that all suffering can be avoided.
In
some ways,
Peter’s world was very different from ours.
And
in other ways, not so very different.
Our
world still knows plenty of suffering.
Ever
our own private worlds seem at times
to have more than their fair share.
Does
Peter have something to say to us,
about our particular brand of suffering,
whatever it may be?
I
think he does …
But
in order to see it clearly,
it may help us
if first we look at some of the ways that
we tend to deal with suffering as it comes to us.
The
things that seem to be our “natural” reactions.
Things
we do without even really stopping to think about them very much.
One
of our all-time favorites is avoidance.
And it can work in two ways.
First,
if we are doing a particular something
and find that it causes us pain or distress,
we will probably stop doing it.
Second,
if in fact our suffering does stop,
then we are likely to make serious efforts
to avoid doing that thing in the future, as well.
Now,
that’s a perfectly natural reaction;
it has helped insure survival!
Even
animals as low on the scale as worms
seem to be able to learn to avoid certain behaviors
which have caused them pain in the past.
Speaking
as a higher animal,
I personally am glad that I figured out one fine day
that I could avoid a lot of migraine headaches
if I avoided diet sodas.
That
is suffering I can do without.
But
sometimes,
avoidance can get us into worse trouble.
What
happens over the long haul
if one bad trip to the dentist
persuades you to avoid going at all
for the next twenty years?
What
happens if you and your spouse
keep avoiding talking about something difficult,
even though it’s tearing you apart?
What
if you suffer for doing something
that you know is right,
like Peter was telling us about last week?
Will
you start to avoid doing what is right?
If
it causes you pain
to hear about other people’s suffering,
will you cover your ears and close your eyes?
Sometimes,
avoidance is unhealthy,
and can lead to even greater suffering.
Another
way in which we often react to suffering
is also natural up to a certain point
but dangerous beyond that point.
And
that is, we anesthetize ourselves.
We
acknowledge that
we can’t stop a particular bad thing from happening,
but we do what we can
to shield ourselves from the pain of it.
This
happens sometimes in nature.
A
person may be seriously injured
but feel no pain at all
until much later, when the healing has begun.
Somehow,
our bodies are sometimes able to anesthetize themselves
to protect us from pain too great to bear.
Sometimes
our mind can do the same thing.
If
someone dear to us dies,
it may be a while before we even begin to feel grief.
Our
mind goes numb, to protect us
until we are strong enough to cope with the pain.
But
this reaction, too, can be misused or overused.
What
happens if we start to try
to anesthetize all of our sufferings?
If
we drink too much,
to forget how bad things are at work?
If
we eat too much,
because we feel lonely and unloved?
If
we work ourselves to exhaustion,
so we can forget a painful problem at home?
Sometimes,
even religion gets misused
as a kind of anesthesia again the world’s pain and our own.
If
we talk only about God’s power and victory,
we can ignore or deny suffering,
because it doesn’t fit into the picture.
If
we spend our time
talking only about rewards in heaven
and a glorious afterlife,
then we can pretend that pain here and now doesn’t matter,
and we don’t have to deal with it.
Or
if we have a certain arrogance about our faith,
and believe that our way is the only way,
then the suffering of others doesn’t concern us:
Either
they deserve it as punishment,
or they need it in order to make them see the error of their ways.
Whatever
our technique,
it’s fairly simple and potentially dangerous
to anesthetize ourselves to suffering,
whether it’s our own, or someone else’s.
Another
way that we might deal with suffering
tends to be a last resort,
used only of the first two fail.
And
that is, we simply give in.
We
become overwhelmed.
There’s
no way to stop the suffering in the world;
there’s not even any way to relieve our own suffering.
This
may leave us in deep depression,
or it may leave us with a hard-nosed kind of cynicism.
Both
of those responses are realistic
to the extent that they openly agree,
there is suffering all around and within,
and it can’t always be avoided or ignored.
But
they are both responses of powerlessness.
The
cynic says,
Suffering is all around me,
therefore if I mistrust everyone and everything,
I can at least protect myself a little.
But I certainly can’t alleviate any suffering;
it would be foolish for me to think that I could.
Depression
says,
Suffering is all around me,
and it has taken hold of me,
and nothing can be done to save me.
Now
– it is true
that there is suffering in the world around us,
and within our own lives,
that we cannot forever avoid
and that resists our attempts at anesthesia.
But
being passive, and giving in to it,
is probably not the most helpful or appropriate response.
Peter,
who is addressing suffering people in a situation where
neither avoidance nor anesthesia is going to work,
does not suggest giving in to suffering,
or to the forces that cause it.
Peter’s
counsel is that we must stand fast.
We
may not be able to avoid
the suffering that comes to us …
but we should stand up to it
instead of knuckling under to it.
He
seems to say that we may, in fact,
succumb to suffering, or to the things causing our suffering,
but that we should go down fighting!
He
doesn’t say that we should go on the attack …
that’s a different issue altogether! …
but he does say that we mustn’t give in.
“Discipline
yourselves [and] keep alert,” he says.
Not anesthetized, alert.
Resist
your adversary.
Not avoid, resist.
Evil
is around, looking for someone to devour.
It
could get you from without or within.
But
don’t run away, and don’t give in to it.
Resist. Stand fast.
That
isn’t necessarily easy.
How
do we persuade ourselves to stand fast
when we could end our suffering
just by walking away?
I
don’t think we can,
unless we remind ourselves
that we’re only a little piece of the whole picture.
Humanly
speaking,
it’s probably impossible, or nearly impossible,
to stand fast for any length of time.
But
we don’t look at our lives from only a human perspective;
we have to factor God into the equation.
So
hear again Peter’s words:
“After you have suffered for a little while,
the God of all grace,
who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ,
will himself restore, support,
strengthen, and establish you.”
That’s
not just a pie-in-the-sky promise.
It
doesn’t say that God will keep us from all suffering;
we know already that isn’t true.
But
God does know our suffering,
and God knows our standing fast,
and God will restore us, strengthen us, establish us.
The
final victory belongs to God.
Our
sufferings, although they are very real,
are
only a piece of the struggle.
May
we keep alert, and resist, and stand fast.
May
God give us strength to do so.
Amen.
©
2002 Julie Adkins (e-mail: DrJAdkins@trinitypresdallas.org)