If I were a visitor to one of my local evangelical churches, knowing nothing about Christians or their faith, I would be likely to conclude that this group of the population does not experience the all-too-frequent emotion of sadness. There is no hint of it anywhere. Everyone arrives in their nicest clothes with their happiest faces, presenting the best version of themselves. Greetings are all smiles, pleasantries are exchanged, laughter ensues and donuts are consumed. Within the sanctuary, lights flash a variety of bright colors, and the worship band plays music that hardly stays in a minor key for more than two measures. They praise God in light-hearted and repetitive song, then listen to a sermon which, depending on the congregation, will end with nothing but warm feelings. Regardless of the genocide discussed in that Biblical passage, God is still good, and you should feel that way too!
The deeper I have engaged with the Christian faith in theological pursuits, scriptural studies, and mere personal experience, I have come to appreciate suffering and its subsequent sorrow as an essential aspect of the life of the believer. In general, suffering is not a concept unfamiliar to the Bible. The earliest Bible stories about figures of faith often disclose the trials they endured. Abraham left his family and ancestral home, Jacob was forced to flee the wrath of his brother and Joseph was sold into slavery. Numerous poetic books, including Psalms and Lamentations, contain cries to God for mercy and rescue in times of severe darkness and despair. And let us not forget Job, the biblical representation of suffering, whose entire narrative concerns his loss and mourning.
Christ himself was tempted and tried in his life on this earth. As the author of Hebrews 4:15 says, “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who in every respect has been tested as we are, yet without sin” (NRSV). Jesus was sent to the desert for a total of forty days to be tested and tempted by the devil—a period of fasting and prayer which lives on in the tradition of Lent. In his crucifixion, he was ridiculed, mocked and tortured, and ultimately put to death on a cross in the greatest humiliation man will ever know. To the authors of the New Testament, the suffering and even persecution of the Christian is regarded as a given aspect of their existence. According to 2 Timothy 3:12, “Indeed, all who want to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted” (NRSV). In general, the suffering of the Christian is not referenced as an “if” but a “when,” and believers are instructed to prepare themselves accordingly. “Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal that is taking place among you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you” (1 Peter 4:12, NRSV).
It is important to note that while suffering is a consistent obstacle and warning in the Christian life, messages about this topic are riddled with hope. “We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to His purpose” (Romans 8:28, NRSV). In James 1:2, the author instructs Christians to “consider it nothing but joy” when they face trials. Paul gives a similar address in Romans 5:3-4, saying that Christians should “boast in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope” (NRSV). Although suffering, trial and temptation are all hallmarks of the faith, Scripture is clear that these must be taken and endured with hope for the sake of their products. So why is it that I take such issue with the positivity consistently present in evangelical church settings?
Just because suffering can and even should be taken with a hopeful spirit doesn’t mean doing so is easy. Oftentimes, suffering is so difficult and pain-ridden that one feels the overwhelming urge to cry out to God, or even doubt his goodness. After all, this is the example given to us through Scripture. Does not Job ask God, “Why have you made me your target? Why have I become a burden to you?” (Job 7:20b, NRSV). Does not our Lord and Savior himself, at the moment of his death cry out, “Eli, eli, lema sabachthani?” that is, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matthew 27:46, NRSV). Both Job and Jesus receive answers and outcomes of hope from their sorrowful circumstances. Yet this did not hinder or negate their lived experience of suffering and perceived separation from God. To prevent oneself from feeling and wrestling deeply with necessary grief, anguish and misery is, from both psychological and spiritual standpoints, unhealthy and fruitless.
Why is it, then, that modern evangelical spaces perpetuate this atmosphere of false positivity? Why is it that at church, people must consciously present the best of themselves and repress their struggles? Why is it that worship music is played in primarily major keys, with lyrics which must immediately destroy grief rather than greet it in full? I can’t help but wonder if this why the church has become so repulsive. Has our consistent denial of suffering and rejection of sorrow thwarted our development of empathy? Are we capable of affirming and partaking in one another’s sufferings if we do not allow such experiences for ourselves?
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