Questions of the Cross: Suffering

Jeremiah 12:1-6

Questions from the congregation at Ampthill Presbyterian Church:

Do I have to suffer to claim the glory of the cross?

Why did Christ have to suffer so much?

Let's dive on into history. Judah was under Assyrian control, but, at some point during Jeremiah’s life that fell into decline and eventually collapsed.[1] There was a brief stint of hope for newfound national recovery and independence that was extinguished by the conquest of the Babylonian Empire. This transfer of power started off peacefully, “but after an early rebellion among the western territories in which Judah took part, harsh punitive measures were inflicted upon the kingdom.”[2] So remember, Judah is not in a position of power, but of oppression. We can’t draw a direct connection between these words to these people, and God’s Word to our nation. But, what we can take from Jeremiah is his message of hope against a “background of…human suffering.”[3]

That leads into the question I’d like to investigate today: the question of suffering. You asked me: “why did Christ have to suffer so much?” and “Do I have to suffer to claim the glory of the cross.” These questions fall into a longstanding theological category known as “Theodicy”. Theodicy is a combination of two Greek words: theo, meaning “God”, and dîké, meaning “justice.” The primary question theodicy seeks to answer is that of how a good God, a just God, could allow for the manifestation of evil within creation. The question of suffering—why suffering exists, why some suffer and others don’t, why good people suffer—is a subcategory. We’ll look more at these questions later, but I bring up theodicy and the question of suffering now because I feel as though the questions that Jeremiah poses to God at the beginning of the 12th chapter are the flipside of this same coin.

“Why does the way of the guilty prosper?” “Why do all who are treacherous thrive?” are the flipside of “Why does the way of the innocent suffer?” “Why do all who are kind wither?” A more familiar version of this question might be “Why do nice guys finish last?” Jeremiah is struggling with this. Jeremiah wants to see God’s vengeance against his enemies, remember when he said that he wanted for them to be pulled out like sheep for the slaughter. This is an understandably human attitude, and I think it is important for us to take note that the authors of our Scriptures may have faced the very same inner turmoil, doubts, and conflicts that we do.

Jeremiah’s inner conflict was compounded by an external conflict, a conflict between his message and the people’s reception of it. Jeremiah hasn’t necessarily delivering the most positive of messages up to this point: calling for repentance, bashing their unfaithfulness, mourning their doom, decrying their corruption, pronouncing the invasion of Babylon to have been God’s judgment, shaming their disobedience, idolatry, and breaking of the covenant. They didn’t want to hear it. When Jeremiah complains to God about the prosperity of the guilty and the thriving of the treacherous, I’m not sure if he’s talking about his nation’s captors, or the people of his own nation. Perhaps he’s prophesying to both. The line about these people keeping God near to their mouths, but far from their hearts leads me to believe that Jeremiah is talking about people of his own nation, who claim his own faith, but merely give God lip service. They aren’t faithful, yet they seem to be okay with that. Comfortable. Prosperous. Thriving. And it seems they could care less about changing their behavior. These people’s response to his prophecies have caused Jeremiah to doubt his vocation.

In verse 5 God responds to Jeremiah’s inner struggle, but without directly answering his questions. Instead God forewarns of greater struggles to come, “Dude, if running with people has worn you out, how will you compete with horses?” That’s just another way of saying, “If you think it’s hard prophesying to these people, just you wait!” But God seems to be implying that the difficulty Jeremiah faces is a sign that he’s on the right track.

That’s probably not the answer we want for the question, “Do I have to suffer?” God seems to imply that if we want to live our life on the right track, yeah…we probably do. I suppose the next question is, “But, why?” Why is the right track so tough?

I think also of the Psalmist, seeking to walk in righteousness and trusting God’s goodness to the upright, who wrote these words of anguish in the 73rd Psalm: “But as for me, my feet had almost stumbled; my steps had nearly slipped. For I was envious of the arrogant; I saw the prosperity of the wicked… All in vain I have kept my heart clean and washed my hands in innocence. For all day long I have been plagued, and am punished every morning.” He’s jealous. He’s trying to walk the way of the LORD but having a hard time watching other people prosper by the way of the world. “Such are the wicked,” he bemoans, “always at ease, they increase in riches.” Comparing what he has to what others have. Comparing how he feels to how he assumes others feel.

This comparison of ourselves to others can only lead to trouble—remember back to where Cain’s jealously lead him. God knew Cain was jealous and upset and warned him with these words: “Sin is lurking at the door; it’s desire is for you, but you must master it.” He didn’t master it. I don’t think any of us humans have. We’ve all been tempted to compare what we have, what we think, what we believe, what we feel against worldly standards. I have found this, in my own experience, to only lead to misery.

Good-enough-ness, however, is the gospel of the world. We’re reminded at all times from all angles about the so-called “goodness” toward which the world calls to thrive. You gotta smell good, look good, dress good, eat good, drink good. You’ve got to love like this in order to be good enough, be in a relationship like this in order to be happy enough, have a job like this to be successful enough, make money like this in order to be valued enough. This, says the world, is good. But what does God call good?

I feel like a lot of our suffering and anguish, not all, but a lot, either comes from trusting the worldly gospel, or from the conflict of trusting what God calls good, yet lusting for what the world calls good. The suffering I’m talking about is more inner anguish, and not so much physical pain and sickness. But this is the suffering that sways us from following the “right track”; the suffering that caused Jeremiah to doubt his vocation; the suffering that plagued the Psalmist with doubts of his self-worth. The “right track” is so tough because it forges a new way through the current of the worldly way of greed, selfishness, and judgment. The Gospel of Jesus Christ thwarts worldly standards left and right, much to the dismay of the scribes and Pharisees, whose sense of self was engulfed in being good enough, clean enough, pure enough, wise enough, pious enough.

A lot of people have a huge vested interest in preserving the ways of the world, the standards of sin, the gospel of good-enough. People stake their lives upon it and devote their lives to preserving it. Many people stake their lives upon it and commit to preserving it without even realizing it. These are the people whom Jesus refers to in his parables and teachings as the “deaf and blind”—blindly following the ways of this world. But Jesus was the Christ, the anointed one, because the Spirit of the Lord was upon him to open the eyes of the blind.

The gospel of grace destroys the gospel of good-enough. Despite this being a good thing, a saving thing, we who have any vested interest in any of the worldly standards which are wrecked by God’s mercy and forgiveness, will experience grace as a threat. Some, like Cain, will be tempted to fight back to protect and defend the worldly way, even at the expense of human suffering, human life, and the suffering and life of God’s creation.

To the latter point, think of how we fight against clean energy at the expense of our air and water, at the expense of impoverished communities. That’s just one example among many, and I know it’s a “hot-button” issue, so I won’t push it too hard, but think about it, and think about all the “hot-button” issues…typically those buttons are hot because of the immense friction between two opposing ways. Jeremiah was frustrated by the people’s tendency to call upon the name of God to promote and protect their own way. I think we’re all guilty of doing this—such is the way taught by the gospel of good-enough.

The truth is that Jesus often offered a third way. In theory this is great, but in practice, it sets him against the power structures seeking to dominate the world. All of this to set up the answer for “Why did Christ have to suffer so much?” Jesus was able to predict his persecution and death to his disciples because he expected to be assaulted by these powers. Those same powers had an equal stake in crushing the new movement inspired by the New Gospel Jesus’ disciples taught. This is why Jesus needed to open the world’s eyes to these powers. His suffering and death at the hands of these powers also opens all of our eyes to them, to their cruelty, to their death-dealing ways. Christ’s suffering and death also opens our eyes to the ways we are tempted to serve them through vengeance, anger, violence, through a pursuit of wealth, fame, or influence.

“The Spirit of the LORD is upon me to restore sight to the blind.” This is what Jesus came, and was anointed by God to do. To reveal the “right-track,” to walk it, and to teach a new way of life all the while being assaulted by the way of life which leads to death. Jesus’ suffering is salvific if it is able to open our eyes to those around us who also suffer at the expense of the ways of the world and the powers of domination. To answer another one of your questions, this is probably why Jesus warned his disciples not to reveal who he was, the Christ, until after his persecution, crucifixion, and resurrection.

There’s a scene in the movie Life of Pi, in which the main character, Pi Patel, enters a church, on his brother’s dare, to drink the holy water. He’s shocked when he hears a voice. “You must be thirsty.” It’s the priest, bringing him a glass of water. Pi accepts the drink, then looks up to the paintings hung around sanctuary depicting the stages of the cross and the suffering of Christ.

“Why would a God do that? Why would He send his own Son to suffer for the sins of ordinary people?” he asks the Priest.

“Because He loves us. God made himself approachable to us — human — so we could understand Him. We can't understand God in all His perfection. But we can understand God's Son, and his suffering, as we would a brother's.”

The Adult Pi Patel thinks back on this interaction with the priest, still in shock. “That made no sense! Sacrificing the innocent to atone for the sins of the guilty. What kind of love is that? But this Son… I couldn't get Him out of my head.”

My hope is that none of us can get Christ out of our head. Christ’s suffering helps us see something. At least it ought to. We are saved when we open our eyes and to question our complicity in the ways of this world. We are saved from sin when Jesus shows it to us, we are rescued when he uses his last breath to cry for forgiveness instead of vengeance.

Do I have to suffer to claim the glory of the cross?

Why did Christ have to suffer so much?

[1] Clements, R.E. “Jeremiah” from Interpretation. P3

[2] Ibid.

[3] Ibid.