Some time back while studying Hebrews 2, a thought occurred to me: Suffering made Jesus what he is today. Now, we know that Jesus knew all things from the point of view of scientific knowledge. But he did not know all things experientially (“…yet learned he obedience by the things which he suffered”). That stayed with me. Below are several of my musings on the topic. Perhaps they will at some point be part of a more formal writing.
(Note: this has not been editted much; it’s mostly as I originally wrote it, so it’s somewhat raw)
The word “suffer” seems akin to permit or endure (Matthew 3:15, “…suffer it to be so…”, 1 Timothy 2:12, “…I suffer not a woman to teach…”). Carries the distinct connotation of “going through” something. The latin root meaning (transliterated) “to bear under.” That latin root, ferre, may be akin to the word ferry. It cannot be separated from endure, actually.
By its definition, it implies discomfort, whether physical, mental, emotional, spiritual, or other. We do not “suffer” things that please us – we enjoy them. We do not endure comfort, we welcome it. We may endure something which is not painful, but whatever we endure is almost always uncomfortable. That is how we define these things in our mind. Comfort and discomfort do not co-exist, and by the same token, then, neither do enjoyment and enduring, or pleasure and suffering (at least, not to the carnal man).
By the definition of suffering it is implied also, then, that things are not going well, things are not as we would like. It may be accurately said that what causes suffering also causes displeasure, a key source of anger (the other being disappointment, and it is worth nothing that suffering is also frequently a disappointment, even if it was expected).
The apostle Paul, then, defies our carnal mindset by stating that he takes pleasure in suffering (2 Cor 12:9-10). We find further defiance by learning that we can indeed experience peace during suffering. We typically define peace as a lack of turmoil or trouble. But the Word of God would have us to experience peace during trouble. A more fitting definition of peace, then, would be a lack of conflict. Things around us may be in conflict, but within ourselves we can be free of conflict. Understand, then, that we can have peace despite things going wrong and being wrong all around us. Another meaning for peace is “a state of security or order.” As a matter of fact, peace and fear cannot co-exist. Love dispels fear (1 John 4). So we can conclude that love can bring us peace by love’s security and order. How else can a parent calm a scared child when the child has no proof that trouble is past? The child trusts the parent’s state of security. That trust is both a reflection of the child’s love and a result of the parent’s love. So, also, does our love for God and His love for us make us calm, though there is no proof that things are no longer wrong around us (yea, there may be undeniable proof that things are still wrong!). As a matter of fact, fear revolves around perception, or rather focus perhaps. Two men standing on a beam 400 feet off the ground are both in equal danger, physically. But why will one fear and the other not? I contend that it is an issue of focus. One dwells on his potential fall. The other lives on, despite it. Does the calm man not know that he might fall? Sure he does. But he does not focus on that. If you put the same beam only 2 feet off the ground, there is still the same danger of falling, just not as far. So the calm man does not dwell on falling off at 400 feet or at 2 feet. The fearful (and perhaps smarter, in our eyes) fears the fall from 400 feet because he is focusing on the danger to his body. So, there is focus. And there is also perception. Perception deals more with the unknown. A 2-year-old child does not fear to hop into a 4-foot pool of water because he perceives no danger, though it is right in front of him. He is calm about it. On the other hand, a grown man may fear to enter a dark (though empty) cave, because he perceives danger, though there may be none.
The reason I spent time on fear is that I believe fear is one of the primary ways we suffer, because it in itself is a form of suffering (“…fear hath torment…”). More specifically, I suppose we fear what we may suffer, or what we believe we will suffer. So, if we don’t experience the suffering we anticipated, we still suffer. And if we do experience the expected suffering, then we have suffered both the fear of the thing and the thing itself. What a waste! Anxiety is exactly that – fearing what may not be. We would be wise to direct elsewhere the energy and time spent on most fear. The exceptions, of course, are the few things we do well to fear, for fear can keep us from things. Fear of God, for example, keeps us from sin. But that is not a discomforting fear. The fear I speak of is the “afraid” fear, the “worry” fear. As a matter of fact, going backwards for a moment, fear deals with perception. So, we perceive trouble, and act accordingly. That fear is acceptable (“..the prudent man forseeth the evil and hideth himself…”). Did he truly fear? The most general definition of fear (as a noun) is “a reason for alarm.” In that sense, yes, the prudent man feared. But the more common definition is “anxious concern” or “an unpleasant often strong emotion caused by anticipation or awareness of danger.” I conclude that the awareness of danger is not in itself fear, so fear must come into play with the anticipation, or rather, how we anticipate danger. The word courage, often the opposite of fear, means “mental or moral strength to …withstand… danger.” The word dread implies that one wishes not to face the danger. Anxiety and apprehension. Hmm…anxiety (closely related in Latin to anger, which comes from the Latin for “strangle” interestingly; note how then anger and anxiety can have similar effects) deals with “uneasiness of mind” (we’re starting to get back to what suffering is – discomfort; see, I told you that you cannot separate fear from suffering). Then we look at apprehension and see – get ready for this – “the act of perceiving.” Remember that word from a while ago? No, I didn’t realize that when I wrote about perception. It also deals with comprehension, which in turn deals with understanding. Where is all this going? I don’t seem to be able to get away from the fact that a lot of our fear (and hence a lot of our suffering) comes from how we perceive things. And our perception will affect how we focus (Isa. 26:3, “Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on thee, because he trusteth in thee.”) Your mind is “stayed on” what it is focused on. Now, let us consider focus more particularly for a moment. When we focus, we set our vision on one thing or limited set of things, and pretty much ignore the other things around us. Do those things go away? No. Can those things still affect us? Of course they can. Do we know they are there? Perhaps. But, the old saying goes, “out of sight, out of mind.” Do you know anyone who is accused of being of a one-track mind often? What does he do? He focuses on a thing or small set of things, then pursues those with little regard to what else is going on around him. You have probably heard anyone say, “I can’t think about that right now, I have to focus on this other problem.” Do his other problems go away? No. But he knows he cannot deal with the other problems at that time, so he sees no reason to let them affect him (also, he was not so much focused on the problem as a solution – big difference). It can be the same with us – we can choose to focus on the Lord and His things, and our minds will be at peace. The dangers and problems around us do not go away. But we don’t have to let them consume us. We know they are there, yet we focus elsewhere while He who can do all things handles them for us (“…casting all your care upon Him…”). So why? Why ignore (our word) the danger? Well, what can we accomplish by dwelling on it? We won’t think of a solution by worrying. Oh, you may be concerned, and may by meditiaion come up with a solution to a problem, but not by anxiety. An anxious mind is not the same as a concerned and meditative mind I think. As a matter of fact, it seems like we can still give thought to the problem without focusing on it. Hmm. Of course. The prudent man sees the evil and hides himself. Does he fear the evil? No. He focuses not on the evil but on the hiding, don’t you think? The evil got his attention but did not keep it.
“God hath not given us the spirit of fear, but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.” One thing I take from that is that fear and a sound mind do not co-exist. The sound mind is secure and not out of order (see above definition of peace). A sound mind and true peace are inseparable. The fearful (insecure?) mind is out of order. God is not the author of confusion, but of peace…”. Confuse is synonymous with confound, which means “to pour together.” The peaceful mind separates, focuses. The fearful mind, then, pours all its troubles and concerns together.
Moreover, focusing on a problem is not fear, methinks, so long as one does not dwell there long. Well, let me be more specific. Focusing on a problem with the intent to find a solution is one thing. But focusing on a problem with worry and anguish – there’s a word I’ve been looking for (sounds like a mix of anger and anxious, does it not?) – is quite another. So, fear has torment in that we allow the perceived danger to trouble us, sometimes as much as or more than the danger itself would. I seem to be coming back, then, to this issue of how we anticipate danger, or more specifically, how we perceive it. Indeed, even anticipating is not wrong. One of the definitions of anticipate is “to give advance thought to.” Another is “to foresee and deal with in advance.” Considering the first definition, we are reminded of Jesus’ admonition to “take no thought for the morrow.” That would classify as anticpation. But so would “foreseeth the evil and hideth himself,” by the second definition. Concerning Jesus’ admonition, we could say that deals with anxiety (study the context of the whole chapter).
Let us consider fear again, particularly fear that causes torment. We must confess that not all such fear is wrong. For example, if you are in the woods and see a boulder rolling down a hill directly at you, the fear that causes anxiety may well save your life. It is that fear which motivates you away from the stone. That is closer to panic in that it creates an immediate reaction. On the other hand, can a man handle that same situation with no fear? I suppose so. He could calmly (albeit hurriedly) move himself out of harm’s way, assuming there is time to do so. But overall, I think the better reaction would be the nearly panicked one. Actually, the worst fear would cause the man to remain still. And so would the worst indifference (which is often confused with control, poise, and peacefulness – the two are oft mistaken for one another). No, I see 3 reactions possible. The first is the truly fearful man, who focuses only on the danger and does not deal with it in time (ever heard of someone being frozen with fear?). Splat. Then there is the imprudent man, who is indifferent to the danger. Splat. Finally there is the prudent man, who may feel the fear momentarily, but is not controlled by it, and reacts by not dwelling on the danger; he dwelt rather on hiding himself. QED. Remember – the fearful man dwells only on the danger. The peaceful man moves on to a solution, or at least getting out of harm’s way. Now, I realize that example may not translate well. Why? Because even very insecure people would probably manage to get out of the way of that boulder. But that brings up another issue – differing levels of control and security. The man who escaped was confident that he could get out of harm’s way; the fearful man who was plowed under either did not believe he could move out of the way soon enough, or was so consumed with the magnitude of the approaching danger that he simply did not react in time. Again, though, that implies perception and more importantly, focus.
The fear of God is practically useless without suffering. We fear precisely that He may cause us suffering, and thus we fear God (and rightly so).
Are people more likely to wander from God who have suffered less? Heb 3:12-14, Eccl 8:11. It really all boils down to this: it depends on how we respond to suffering. Some who suffer still wander and rebel, because they fail to let patience have her perfect work (James 1:2-4). A wrong response to suffering produces unbelief, or perhaps merely reflects it. But I contend that a man with unbelief (a Christian, that is – see Hebrews chapters 3-4 for support of this) can be changed if he responds right to the suffering God permits and sends. Moreover, some take a small amount of rebuke and seem to benefit much from it (Prov. 9:8-9).
