Suffering and the Gospel, Part 3

In part 2 of this series we saw that physical suffering is a part of God’s response to human sin, deliberately designed to demonstrate the tragedy that exists within each of our own hearts.

We might ask whether this is fair of God, or at least something of an overreaction. Did a bite from a fruit really warrant all of the pain and bloodshed in the world?

To answer that question, it’s helpful to consider what would have happened if Adam and Eve had got what they actually deserved. “But of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it you shall surely die” (Gen 2:17). God would not have been unjust to respond to our first parent’s sin with instant, eternal punishment. That what sin deserves, because every sin—even the smallest bite from a fruit—is an offence against a Person of infinite worth and majesty.¹ Thus, even the smallest sin is a crime of infinite offence.

But Adam and Eve did not get what they deserved. They kept breathing. They kept living. They awoke to fresh sunrises and the sound of a baby’s cry and the taste of good food and refreshment of rest after work and the love of one another. And all around them was this universe—still beautiful, still showing God’s glory—but constantly reminding them of their sin.

There is a word for this: grace. God could have dealt with sin immediately by giving them their just deserts. But instead He extended grace, giving them life while showing them their sin, and therefore offering every opportunity to return to Him. Being alive on a cursed earth is a lot better than any one of us deserves, and when we see it like this, we begin to grasp that pain and suffering are gifts that summon us to repent before it’s too late.

This connection between suffering and repentance is one Jesus made explicit in Luke 13:1-5:

There were some present at that very time who told him about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices. And he answered them, “Do you think that these Galileans were worse sinners than all the other Galileans, because they suffered in this way? No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all likewise perish. Or those eighteen on whom the tower in Siloam fell and killed them: do you think that they were worse offenders than all the others who lived in Jerusalem? No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all likewise perish.”
Luke 13:1-5

Jesus tells his hearers that extraordinary suffering does not imply extraordinary sin. But that is not because He sees no connection between suffering and sin. According to Jesus, we are all extraordinary sinners, all worthy of death. Every resident of Jerusalem deserved to fall under Pilate’s sword or be buried under the rubble of Siloam. The wonder is not that some suffered, but rather that so many did not.

And not just Jerusalem: “…now he commands all people everywhere to repent, because he has fixed a day on which he will judge the world in righteousness by a man whom he has appointed; and of this he has given assurance to all by raising him from the dead” (Acts 17:30b-31a).

We’ve all heard the question, “How can a good God allow suffering?” The assumption, buried somewhere below the surface, is that we’re mostly good people who deserve something along the lines of a comfortable existence. But God does not agree with our self-assessment. Something as basic as the cycle of the seasons is a grace we don’t deserve, designed to witness to His goodness and lead us to repentance (Gen 8:21-22, Acts 14:15-17, Rom 2:4). The fact that anybody is breathing right now is an unfathomable gift not one has earned.

Suffering, therefore, gives us a taste of what we actually do deserve. Suffering speaks to us of our sin and our need to repent of it. Suffering tells us that God is patient, and that He is warning us and waking us and giving us time before it’s too late. Suffering tells us that we need a Saviour to rescue us from final judgement.

Suffering, therefore, points us to the greatest act of suffering in history: the crucifixion of Christ. That’s what we’ll consider in the next instalment.

More to come.