Pain

So much of our lives revolve around the avoidance of pain.

We rarely even get to the point where we have to avoid something as acute as full-blown pain. Most of the time we act as soon as we are even mildly uncomfortable. We take pills, purchase air purifiers, and take a day off work. We protest and pout when we feel even a light ache in our limbs or head.

We even speak of pain theologically: God is my comfort. God keeps me safe. God protects me. Could there be anything further from the gospel message of a suffering servant? Where does it say that Christians are immune to the pains of this world. Would our understanding of God make sense to those martyrs of the early church, thrown to lions, roasted in hot pans, scourged, hung, and my personal favorite, had red hot elements placed on their head, burning their flesh down to the bone? Surely God is their comfort, but in a way far removed from the way that we speak. We talk of God as some kind of spiritual down throw. While those early Christians believed that suffering pain was an avenue to communion with Christ, modern thought is more likely to say that those people who live lives devoid of pain are in some way closer, more blessed, especially chosen by God.

The recent tragedy of hurricane Katrina illustrates how far we have come from a proper understanding of pain and suffering. Not only is there cries for help and relief from the horrible circumstances, but there seems to me a surprise, an indignation even, that something so bad could happen. We have convinced ourselves that painful things are never going to happen. At least not to us. When they do happen we suffer doubly. We suffer the pain of whatever trauma we are going through and we suffer because we are forced to come to grips with our own delusions.

Pain is not the worst thing that could happen to us.