Lent series: Suffering, part 3, Christlikeness

SUFFERING a weekly Lenten reflection - part 3, Christlikeness

How, then, will I choose to live?

What will I do with my suffering? 

We are well aware that as we navigate our lives, we are all faced with daily choices that only we can make, and the hardest of these are the ones that we make in the midst of suffering, whatever that looks like for each one of us.

I am, of course, using the word suffering here in its broadest sense. It doesn’t have to be major trauma or tragedy - it could mean that - like Pete and Barbie Reynolds, incarcerated in  Afghanistan, or it could mean living with, and processing, years of unanswered prayer and shattered dreams, or enduring chronic physical pain.

Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.  Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything (James 1:2-4)

In effect, James is saying that it’s in the trials, in the crucible, under intense heat, that the impurities - perhaps our sense of superiority, having to be right, our pride, our idolatry, are all burned away. 

James is saying that a faith that might have been weak and immature, when tested under trials, has the potential to be strengthened and to become steadfast and ultimately, complete, or perfect - Christlike.

A classic sign of completion in the traditional refining process of silver, once the dross has been removed, is that the refiner can see his own reflection in the molten silver.

In order to become the bride spoken of in Revelation, worthy of such a bridegroom as Jesus, it seems to me that it is our responsibility to do what we need to do, according to God's word.

And, on that journey, God often allows us to suffer.

Let us rejoice and be glad and give the glory to Him, for the marriage of the Lamb has come and His bride has made herself ready. (Revelation 19:7)

The bride has made herself ready.

Because you see, the goal of our lives, as followers of Jesus, is not just to be happy, to avoid pain, to stay comfortable at all costs, or to  have bigger, better houses, cars, holidays…  no, no, that is not the aim of our lives.

Paul in Romans 8:29, says this, “For those God foreknew He predestined to be conformed to the image of his son”.

The aim of our lives, then, is that we become like Jesus, conformed to the image of the son of God. Maturity is an intentional goal that we move towards, small choice by small choice, day in and day out, in the direction of Christlikeness.

Preparing ourselves for our bridegroom involves, of course, a deep internal work of the Holy Spirit, and the part we play in this, is being willing to lay ourselves on the altar, in other words, to die to self. 

The way of Jesus is the way of the cross. For all of us.

“He (Jesus) said to them all, ‘If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me.’” (Luke 9:23)

Not a fashionable idea in the 21st century church - I have never heard any teaching on this from the pulpit. This is radical, and counter cultural.

Because you see, God calls us to live another way, and we can only do so if we truly trust him with all that is dear to us. An unshakeable belief that God is our good, good Father and that we are loved, is foundational to navigating our pain in a healthy and Godly manner.

Can we say with Job? ‘Though he slay me, I will hope in him’ (Job 13:15)

Hope in the face of adversity is worship. Perhaps worship is the only appropriate response in our struggles? Worship that exalts God, forcing us to lift our eyes beyond the suffering, as immense as it might be, onto Him who is greater and bigger. Onto Him who is able to do immeasurably more than we can think or imagine, working in all things for the good of those who love Him (Ephesians 3:20, Romans 8:28).

Worship offered sacrificially in suffering, often through gritted teeth, is a form of spiritual rebellion against fear, loss and despair; it is a declaration of faith that God is present, even when He feels distant.

The psalmist, David, puts it beautifully - penned from a raw and honest place of pain…

How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever?
    How long will you hide your face from me?
How long must I wrestle with my thoughts
    and day after day have sorrow in my heart?
    How long will my enemy triumph over me?

Look on me and answer, Lord my God.
    Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death,
and my enemy will say, “I have overcome him,”
    and my foes will rejoice when I fall

But I trust in your unfailing love;
    my heart rejoices in your salvation.
I will sing the Lord’s praise,
    for he has been good to me (Psalm 13)