The Lens of Suffering in an Age Blinded by Comfort
I have viewed a lot of my life through a lens of suffering. Being diagnosed with a rare brain tumor at the young developmental age of four-and-a-half alone is enough to cause many psychosocial scars, let alone having part of my brain removed, leaving lasting defects in my day-to-day motor function and visual field, and receiving chemotherapy at a young age, making me shamefully bald as a child and leaving behind the unrelenting, perpetual pierce of tinnitus to this day.
Nonetheless, over the decades, my annoyance with these burdens has been worn down by repeated exposure to the pain that they cause. In effect, I have become numb to their presence. Not that I have forgotten about them or that they have gone away, but that I more mundanely acknowledge them as I go through life. The sharp sorrow, sanded down by the passage of time, has less power to cause the deep pain than it used to. Every once in a while, a splinter of suffering will stab me like before; but, the splinter hurts less than the previous wooden daggers. Still, a small splinter can lead to the creation of a festering abscess beneath the surface, if the pain, anger, and grievance are left to their own devices, destroying all the surrounding good.
Some of you reading this may not have had great suffering in your life yet. Sure, there are the daily inconveniences or the valleys of doubt, confusion, stress, and loss through which we all pass. But, possibly you have not had to succumb to a serious, prolonged trial yet. Others of you reading this may have had similar experiences of significant trials, as I described above. Whether it be a severe or chronic illness, the premature loss of a parent or child, family estrangement, or socioeconomic disparity, these burdens completely change the way in which one sees the world. Often, when undergoing burdensome suffering, one can ask, “why me?” or “what did I do to deserve this?” From the outside, others can question why bad things happen to good people. It can be disheartening and disorienting to be continually berated by assaults of pain and suffering. We can ask, “what is the point of all this suffering?” or “when will it end?” The inability to see past the incessant waves of woe can make one feel as if they are drowning because they are unable to see the greater context of the whole ocean in which they are treading water.
The reality is that suffering is part of the human condition. As finite creatures, we all succumb to illness, psychosocial conflict, and economic struggle. The better question to ask is, “what will I do with my suffering?” Will I let it beat me to a pulp, leading me to even question the meaning of life? Will I let it make me resort to pride, in a defense mechanism based on fear and a social survival instinct? Will I shrink from it, out of an avoidance of discomfort or out of laziness? Or, will I accept it, knowing that it can bring about virtue in me? Will I embrace it now, so that I can help others bear their cross down the road? Will I offer it as a sacrifice (from sacra + facere, meaning “to make holy”), so that I can be made more holy and that the world can be made more holy through my willingness to accept my burdens in this life with joy and humility?
However, voices in the world try to dishearten us. They describe life as “nasty, brutish, and short” or that “life is the will to power,” characterizing our existence as all suffering and viewing unbridled power as the only way to overcome it. However, these views are severely blinded to the supernatural reality in which we live. Many of the sufferings that we encounter in the world are out of our control. Yes, there are still plenty of evils caused by mankind, and we should work to correct them. Nonetheless, what truly matters is how we bear the struggles that come our way and how we seek to improve the lives of those around us. We can either choose to focus inward on ourselves, or we can use our trials as an opportunity to give of ourselves more to others. Victor Frankl, a Holocaust survivor and psychologist notes that,
“If there is a meaning in life at all, then there must be a meaning in suffering. Suffering is an eradicable part of life, even as fate and death. Without suffering and death, human life cannot be complete.”
Ironically, life cannot be complete without suffering and death. As finite creatures, they are part of our existence. Our current society is not too keen on acknowledging that reality though. With instant gratification, avoidance of discomfort, and an ignorance of what a good death is, we are caught in a pleasure-seeking present, but haunted by regret of the past and fear about the future. This comfortable disorientation leads us to be blind toward the goodness that can come from suffering well. Thankfully, Frankl also tells us that,
“The way in which a man accepts his fate and all the suffering it entails, the way in which he takes up his cross, gives him ample opportunity — even under the most difficult circumstances — to add a deeper meaning to his life.”
All the suffering that we encounter in our lives can and ought to be seen as opportunities to grow in virtue and to be learned from. It is this approach to our trials that Jesus Christ invites us into. He, knowing what it is like to suffer the greatest of human sufferings, can surely help us bear our temporal trials on this earth. He can put it into context and provide us with meaning and purpose. As St. John Paul II says,
“Life with Christ is a wonderful adventure. He alone can give full meaning to life. He alone is the center of history. Live by Him!”
When we allow our struggles to bring us beyond ourselves, we not only move away from our prideful, selfish selves, but we can also help bring others to greatness and holiness too.
In Christianity, there is a revolutionary concept of “redemptive suffering.” By bearing our sufferings well, we not only make ourselves more virtuous, but we can also participate in the salvation of the world. Christ, having entered fully into our human weakness, took on our human suffering, and redeemed it. That way, when we offer our trials to Him on the cross and when we bear our own suffering in the way that Christ did His Passion, we can participate in the salvation of souls. Offering your struggles to Him for the intentions of your loved ones, a difficult relationship, an important decision, etc. can bring grace into those situations because your suffering participates in the sacrifice of Christ on the cross, granting those intentions the same grace that He won for all souls who accept His calling. As it is written, “but rejoice to the extent that you share in the sufferings of Christ, so that when his glory is revealed you may also rejoice exultantly” (1 Peter 4:13). Also, these trials can be memento mori moments, reminding us that one day we will die, therefore, we ought to suffer well now, to be able to attain our ultimate goal — eternal life. By suffering well, we are purified from our selfish and sinful tendencies, and made more fit to enter heaven. Additionally, by suffering as Christ did, we can encourage others to do so as well, multiplying the salvific effect of our human suffering.
What does redemptive suffering gain for me though? As mentioned, by bearing our struggles well, without selfishness, sloth, anger, or pride, but instead by accepting them with humility, perseverance, and faith, we ourselves are made holy. We turn less toward ourselves and more toward others and God, the only one who can sustain us in our struggles. As it is written, “consider it all joy, my brothers, when you encounter various trials, for you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance” (James 1:2–3). When we more patiently bear our trials, instead of running from the experience of pain and discomfort, we are also able to more easily give of ourselves in our abundance or when we have the opportunity to think of others before ourselves. Just, for example, think about an amputee. One could say that he has all the reason in the world to be angry, bitter, and hopeless. However, how much more like Christ would he be if he took on his weakness, dedicated to living life to its fullest, without focusing on himself in pity, but instead focusing on how he can help others, despite his limitations. Think of when you see someone with a disability becoming a motivational speaker or overcome their limitations to pursue their passion in life and to witness to others. We can all do that with the sufferings, large and small, that we have in our lives.
In my own experience, these words about “redemptive suffering” sound great, but they can be all too difficult to apply in my day to day life, and they can even be disheartening at times because I may perceive them as disregarding my lived experience of suffering. All too often, I have allowed thoughts about my limitations drag me into depressed, self-centered states. I easily focus on the things that I cannot do, instead of being grateful for all the things that I have been able to do in my life thus far.
Additionally, I have found that when others discredit, discount, or disregard someone’s suffering or even try to minimize it or fix it, before just merely acknowledging and sitting with it, they override the person’s dignity by overlooking the suffering person’s lived reality. It is similar to if someone were to gloss over stories about your family or a deeply held belief (religion, politics, etc.). Both of these are strongly tied to our identity. I would say that one’s suffering is even more greatly united to one’s identity because what one has had to suffer through shapes who they are; and, once they have overcome it, being a survivor becomes a new identity for them. To quickly move past what one has gone through, without first sitting with it and trying to experience it from the other’s perspective, tears away at the very identity that the person has formed through those difficult times.
So, how can you ever know the suffering that another is going through? Often, you won’t be able to empathize with the person because you have not gone through a similar situation. And, as mentioned above, sympathy or kind words, can often come off wrong, as if you do not understand what the person has gone through and possibly as if you do not even care. Two words, compassion and consolation are vital in accompanying others in suffering. Compassion comes from com + pati, meaning “to suffer with,” and consolation stems from com + solari, meaning “to comfort with.” Both highlight an important action — accompaniment. The best thing you can give someone who is suffering is your presence. You don’t have to say or do anything; just be there with them in their pain, stay there with them as long as they want, and then be able to help pick them up when they’re ready to accept their cross again.
It can seem like there is so much suffering in the world, that it can be overwhelming to know how to approach it. But, the only thing that will bring about goodness from pain, is accepting your cross with a kind of Christian joy that only Christ can give. No other approach — religious, political, or scientific — provides a way to endure our present sufferings, but also to allow good to come of it. Of course, this is dependent upon God’s grace and our receptivity to it. We must be aware of God’s presence in our lives, even in the midst of our trials, and ask for the grace of the Holy Spirit to strengthen us an accompany us as the Paraclete (from para + kalein, meaning “called to one’s aide”) on our journey. As Jesus tells us, “in the world you will have trouble, but take courage, I have conquered the world” (John 16:33). With this confidence and grace, we are able to overcome our own trials and work to help others do the same.
Our modern world is so focused on comfort and passivity that we are often blinded toward the way in which others suffer and how we should gratefully accept the small sufferings that comes our way. So, seek out the suffering around you and do not run from your own trials. That does not mean that you have to inflict pain on yourself. Rather, if struggles come your way, lean into them, give them all you got, bearing humbly and patiently, and enduring them for a greater good. I would say that our lives are not “nasty, brutish, and short,” but that they are unique, beautiful, and full of opportunities. And, instead of viewing the world as a will to power, we ought to see it as a will to sacrifice, to persevere, and to overcome.
So, whenever you are in the midst of a trial, first, remember that there are others suffering greater than you (and be thankful for what you still do have), but also remember that you are not alone in your own darkness. And, when you are presented with the opportunity of small sacrifices, where you can give of yourself for the good of another (e.g. holding back a snide comment, helping out a friend, giving up a meal/drinks to give the money to the poor instead, using your free time to volunteer, etc.), or when you can choose to redemptively offer up an unnoticeable sacrifice (skipping dessert, deciding not to hit the “next episode” button, letting someone merge in front of you, waking up without hitting the snooze button, etc.), choose to put on the lens of suffering, viewing these moments as opportunities of participation in the passion, death, and resurrection of Christ, knowing that when you offer it to Him, it can bring about goodness in you and in the world.
