I had a couple of interesting sets of conversations yesterday morning. One was about women bishops: a meeting here of about 25 people, for and against women becoming bishops, talking about what each other thought, and how the Church of England has been trying to find a way of having women bishops without pushing anyone out. And the other was with Ann Cryer about her and my experience of being misreported, and what power the national media have to create a story rather than find out the truth, a story which may be untrue but which then can't be challenged without a lot of money and a very thick skin.
These things aren't big in themselves: they don't compare in importance with millions of people facing drought and war in East Africa, wondering where to begin with reconstruction in northern Japan, suffering violence and terror in Syria or Pakistan, or facing disease or bereavement. But they are reminders of how pain and struggle are present in so much of life, even the parts where we think that it should all be fine: yes, even in the Church.
That's the picture in Jesus' parable in our gospel reading: the world is a harvest field of good things, marred by the action of evil which sows weeds in among the grain: and isn't that our experience? The world as a mixture of grace and grief, with joy and wonder alongside sorrow and injustice and irreconcilable differences. What are you thankful for today? And what makes you want to cry out, in pain or in anger...?
In the face of the world's suffering and our own, there are three ways most people respond. One is to be overcome by it all: to spend life harassed and hopeless, always feeling that we can't ever do enough to sort it out, that we must give all we can all the time, and not stop until the last homeless child or starving grandfather has found comfort.
Another response is that of compassion fatigue, or being so overwhelmed by suffering that we turn off and turn away, unable to cope with seeing it and closing our hearts to charity. Sometimes it's because people live hard-hearted lives, indeed: but often it's because we've just had enough, or are coping with our own difficulties and don't have room to fit anything more into our hearts. We just need a break before we can take on anything more.
And the third way to respond to the world's sufferings is the way St Paul urges us in the reading from Romans ch.8: the way of hope through suffering, and hope through Jesus Christ.
At a recent meeting with some Christian & Muslim brothers and sisters we were talking about Jesus on the cross, and why Christians believe that Jesus had to die for our sins. And I was trying very inadequately to explain that, it's not just that Jesus takes our sins away – which he does; but that it's the nature of God to suffer on behalf of the world, and that Jesus on the cross – yes, and in his death too – shows us how far God goes to be alongside, and inside, his creation.
'We are children of God and joint heirs with Christ, if indeed we suffer with him so we may be glorified with him', says Paul. We suffer with Christ: how? Because, says Paul, the whole creation suffers and groans – but it suffers and groans in hope, like a woman in labour, waiting for a new world to be born. And Jesus Christ is at the heart of the suffering of creation.
This whole passage about glory and suffering is shot through, not only with pain, but also with hope and wonder. The pains and sufferings of the world are not without an end: although we struggle with them, we also find Christ in them – for there is nowhere, no terror or disaster or disease or war, where the suffering Christ is not to be found. The world is to be Christ-shaped; and our call is to join Jesus Christ in sharing the pain of the world, including our own, so that by his death and resurrection he may redeem it and us.
The big story in Britain this week has been about the Rupert Murdoch fiasco, and the corruption in our media and police and the collusion of politicians with this because of the power of the media. But the story of the fall of the News of the World is also profoundly hopeful. It shows that evil cannot in the end be sustainable. For wickedness almost by definition eats itself as well as others: as the psalmist puts it, 'They have dug a deep pit in my path, but they themselves have fallen into it.' People who prey on others without restraint will not always get away with it: pride comes before a fall and all that.
And as Christians we have even more cause to be hopeful than those who simply quote proverbs. Desmond Tutu said, 'Goodness is stronger than evil; love is stronger than hate; light is stronger than darkness; life is stronger than death; victory is ours through God who loves us.' We know that God loves us because we see Jesus hanging on a cross for us. We know that God loves us because he raised Jesus from the dead, and will lead us too through suffering and death to joy and glory on the other side. We and the whole world don't suffer in the absence of God, but in the presence of God – the God who doesn't watch from afar, but comes and suffers with us and holds us in the hope of the heart of Christ.
So what do we do this week? Note that the reading from Romans begins with the Spirit of God calling us into relationship with God; and just after the text we had read, Paul says how the Spirit prays for us in the groaning of our hearts. So when we suffer or see suffering, first of all let's pray: let's call on God to be at work in us and the people with whom we suffer, that the God of hope may bring hope to all. This morning we have healing prayer available for you or others: take the opportunity to let God into the world's suffering as you experience it.
And the other thing to do this week is simply to keep hope alive. For all the awfulness of mass rapes and massacres in the Congo, there are stories of love and redemption as church people there go out into the bush to find child soldiers and bring them home and set them free. For all the suffering of drought and war in East Africa, there are people who love and care and bring aid to those without hope. Yes, it's hard: but God does not, will not, cannot, give up on us; and in Jesus Christ we have the assurance that hope will not disappoint us; that God will lead us through.
Are we broken by suffering, worn down by it? No.
Do we turn away from suffering because we can't cope with any more? No.
But in the name and the power of Jesus Christ we hold together in our hearts and lives grief and grace, knowing that though we cannot sustain it on our own, the love of God will hold us and all the world.
As Paul said: 'I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory about to be revealed to us.'
|