Dwania Duhaney-Millen
Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted.-Matthew 5:4
Yesterday marked the 5th anniversary of my father’s passing. I miss him everyday. I remember the immense inner turmoil, the sadness, the anger, the grief, the deep sense of loss, and the terrifying sense of finality that washed over me in the days following his passing. Days blended into one, sleep left me like a woman abandoned by her lover. My appetite disintegrated into ash at the thought that my father, who used to spend a lot of time with me in the kitchen, would never eat again. The grief was palpable, and while I didn’t feel strong, I looked strong. I remember feeling in those times as though another strength was carrying me along. The words of every friend who called or visited stayed in my mind and, sadly, the absence and silence of others was even more stark in my memory than I desired.
As I drove home yesterday, I reasoned with the Lord about suffering. I recalled that in Acts 17, the Apostle Paul reasoned with a second group of philosophers in Athens called the Stoics. I wondered what their philosophy taught them about suffering.
In my research, I discovered that Stoicism teaches that “everything hangs on one’s thinking, even pain”. Stoicism encourages its followers to redirect their thoughts away from pain to other thoughts as a way of alleviating suffering. In this way, they explain, suffering can be beneficial. If your right arm is broken, for example, you can begin learning how to write with your left hand.
And, if your father dies?
Stoicism would tell you that death is a rational part of life and thus need not to be feared. There is therefore no grieving the death of a loved one, as it is outside of your control anyway. You really should try to find the good in the painful situation- like learning to enjoy the life you have now and cherishing your family and friends who are alive.
Furthermore, the god of Stoicism is pantheistic, which means their god is the universe- a rational entity as manifested through nature. What does this mean in my suffering? It means that the Stoic god could, perhaps, explain my pain, suffering or grief, but their god cannot enter into any of it- simply cannot relate. In this lies the crux of the matter.
Why should I serve, know, love, care about a God who can only explain my suffering or teach me lessons in suffering, but he cannot ease it nor does he care to comfort me in it?
The god of Stoicism is rational, but it is not loving nor, at the very least, helpful.
In my discussion with the Lord yesterday, I pointed out to him that I knew he understood suffering: He was betrayed, denied, humiliated, mocked, persecuted, and heartbroken over the death of his friend, Lazarus, so I knew he knew pain, suffering and grief. He was, as Isaiah 53:3 says, “ He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief: and we hid as it were our faces from him; he was despised, and we esteemed him not.”
The writer of Hebrews says, “For we have not a high priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities…”- Hebrews 4:15
“So what, Lord?” I asked the Lord. “What is the significance to me if you know about human suffering?” He answered.
The Lord reminded me of something. You see, before my father passed away, I was aware that I had a weakness: I did not know how to grieve with other people. I wasn’t being intentionally selfish; I just did not know what to say or how to BE around grief because nobody close to me had ever passed away– nobody I had ever deeply loved, who was close to my heart. I felt secretly ashamed about it because I could not relate, and I did not want to pretend. (I also secretly feared what it would take for me to be able to relate!) I only went to funerals if I was required to go because it was just all so sad. Ironically, it pained me that I was not more equipped to handle grief, as bright as I was, but did I even want to be able to relate? I was not so sure. Well, I was not acquainted with it.
Aha! The Lord got me there.
The God of the Bible knows pain, suffering and grief, and because he does, he is equipped to walk with us through it. He does not tell us to push it aside, so we can find peace of mind in something else like Stoicism teaches; rather, he invites us to hold his hand in it so he can provide comfort. He invites us in Hebrews 4:16 to come to him for help in our time of need.
Hebrews 4:16: Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need.
Our God feels. Our God knows. Our God cares. Our God comforts.
With this thought, I take us back to The Apostle Paul’s debate with the Epicurean and Stoic philosophers. Imagine how revolutionary it must have been to hear about Jesus Christ– a God who suffered, bled and died for humanity? Imagine hearing that this God rose from the grave! What? A God who suffered? Yes! A God who suffered! Jesus suffered so he can comfort us in our suffering; Jesus resurrected, so he can give us life and life more abundantly.
Aren’t you glad that our God understands suffering? I sure am!
Invite Jesus into your suffering today. He wants to comfort, heal and strengthen you.
Dwania Duhaney Millen 