suffering

I guess Calvin's dad (you know- the all-weather bicycler from the comic strip Calivn and Hobbes) was right, him and a few million other American dads. It sounds like suffering really does build character.

I say that because I read it this morning, in Romans 5:3-5: "Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us."

It's a tidy little sequence: suffering to perseverance to character to hope. If we just bear up under our suffering – that's what perseverance is, going on in spite of hardship – then we will develop character. Character will then enable us to see hope even in times of suffering.

All very logical, but where I get stuck is at the part about glorying in my sufferings. I've suffered, not as much as some but enough that I know what it's like. I didn't enjoy it, and I certainly didn't glory in it. Rather than reflecting on how great it was to be building character, I simply did everything I could to end my suffering as quickly as possible.

I don't think Paul or anyone would advocate suffering more or longer than you have to. And I don't think Paul meant just any old suffering, like from a tooth-ache. I've always believed that Paul meant when I suffer as an outcome of living out my faith, or suffer in a way that challenges my faith – I think of things like cancer or religious persecution or the loss of a spouse. Those kinds of things bring us back to the throneroom of God. 

That kind of suffering will obviously build our character if we persevere through it. But I still don't know that I have enough strength to glory in those kinds of things. I'd like to hope I do, but really I'm not a person who willingly endures negative experiences. Maybe that's why so far God hasn't sent me as much suffering as he has others.

I might be able to glory in suffering after the fact. I just took part in a reader's theater production of "Things We Couldn't Say," the story of Dutch resistance figher Diet Ehman that was written by James Schaap. At one point, writing to her fiance after months of imprisonment, she said she was glad she had gone through it, because it brought her closer to God. 

I can see myself reacting that way, after it's all said and done. I just struggle to see myself singing in prison, like Peter. But I have faith that if I'm ever called to go through that, I won't do it alone. And maybe that kind of strength will be there when I need it.