What Do You Do With Suffering?

October 22, 2012October 30, 2012 / Erin Kirk / 1 Comment

With all my recent chatter about contentment, it seems wise to tiptoe up to that bloated, hateful beast called suffering.

(Photo credit: shannylynne)

Because I can hear you saying, “Oh yes following Jesus is all hearts and rainbows for you, but I have cancer, or the bank just repossessed my house or my country is beset by civil war. I mean, would a good God really allow all this suffering?”

First of all, I am so sorry. I am. Suffering sucks. However, the question of suffering has vexed religious scholars forever, so my answer to why God allows it is:

I DON’T KNOW.

But I’ve got a few hunches gleaned from The Bible and some bathroom mirror posts to help you through it. If you don’t happen to be suffering right now, read on anyway. It’s good to be prepared.

1. The Bible says the world’s rent is paid by the father of sin and death, and he roams like a lion seeking people to destroy. A lot of people are following that lion, by choice or default, therefore we ought to expect destruction. Why doesn’t God step in? He did. He sent Jesus who demonstrated how we are to live here – forgive your enemies, take care of the poor, love and obey God – then he died for our inability to do it.

2. There is an epic misunderstanding about the price of following Christ. Jesus told his disciples it would cost them everything, but it would be worth it. I don’t know who started the Christianity = hearts and rainbows rumor, maybe that’s just American zeitgeist, but take a note from the Apostle Paul.

I’ve worked much harder, been jailed more often, beaten up more times than I can count, and at death’s door time after time. I’ve been flogged five times with the Jews’ thirty-nine lashes, beaten by Roman rods three times, pummeled with rocks once…I’ve been at risk in the city, at risk in the country, endangered by the desert sun and sea storm, and betrayed by those I thought were my brothers…And that’s not the half of it. II Corinthians 11:23-27 MSG

Paul suffered mightily but he believed Jesus won, so he could handle it. I believe the same thing so, when the lion attacks me, I can appropriate this promise in Psalm 91.

He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High shall remain stable and fixed under the shadow of the Almighty (Whose power no foe can withstand). I will say of the Lord, He is my Refuge and my Fortress, my God; on Him I lean and rely on and in Him I (confidently) trust.

3. Sometimes God doesn’t remove our suffering because he’s using it to make us stronger and more compassionate. We know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, Paul said in Romans 5:3-5. So while we’re groaning under the weight of that process, here’s another for the mirror.

…be satisfied with your present; for He (God) Himself has said, he will not in any way fail you, nor give you up, nor leave you without support. I will not, I will not, I will not in any degree leave you helpless nor forsake nor let you down. Hebrews 13:5

I struggled hard with that scripture because for many people, like women and children sold into sexual slavery, it seems patently untrue. But faith only works if you know God’s word and trust it. So when I posted Hebrews 13:5 and read it every day, I began seeing evidence of it in places I had overlooked. That made me trust it more. The more I trusted it, the more active I became in fighting those ____fill in the blank____ who buy and sell helpless women. I only cared about that theoretically before. Now, it inflames me so much I financially support those on the front lines; and from time to time my unholy, potty mouth runs away with me – sorry.

Do you see? God works through people who trust Him with their own lives first – especially in the suffering.

We are assured and know that all things work together and are (fitting into a plan) for good to and for those who love God and are called according to His design and purpose. Romans 8:28.

You are not alone. Hang in there.

Let Your Freak Flag Fly.

September 19, 2012September 27, 2015 / Erin Kirk / Leave a comment

Yesterday, I received a rejection letter from a company to which I have applied for five different jobs.

It was a Christian company.

The first time they didn’t hire me, I wondered if they found me online and didn’t like my “brand” of Christianity, because they never even called me back. In the weeks that followed, I found myself pulling punches, editing myself into something they might like better, just in case they looked again. Reading those drafts, which thank God I didn’t post, is painful. My voice is fractured, boring and meanders all over the place.

I made myself into someone I’m not, so someone I don’t know would like me. Guess what? They still don’t.

Maybe it’s just the economy, but the point remains: I am useless to the world if I am lying about myself. I have learned from reading The Bible that I shouldn’t be domineering or offensive or aggressive, but do have to actually like who I am and not apologize for it – a topic I mulled over in yesterday’s post.

So I’m a Democrat and a yoga-teacher, and a thinker and a skeptic, who’s in love with organic farming, food politics and Jesus; and I don’t think those things are mutually exclusive. Watering any of that down to be palatable to everybody, just makes me bland, and that, I think, is an insult to God.

Photo: TPSDave

That’s the problem I had with Christianity forever. I believed I had to be a pious, churchy version of myself, and hose down the fiery parts that actually fuel the things I care about, like girls from poor families
sold by the busload into sexual slavery. Lots of religious folk trade in such phoniness, but Jesus does not.

In the gospels, Jesus prizes poor, marginalized women and will happily put my energy into their service, if I allow him to direct it; and surely the mind behind the aurora borealis can be trusted to handle that.

I believe there’s a juicy sweet spot in America populated by tons of people who would delight in the gospel if they actually could hear it, but if what they hear first is hell, the Law and a six-day creation, they’ll keep rejecting all of it and never know what good news the gospel really is.

So today, I’m changing the tagline on this blog to: Going to the Sea: A Sassy Democrat’s Guide to Faith.

This is who I am. Who are you?

Can’t We At Least Talk About It?

September 18, 2012 / Erin Kirk / Leave a comment

Author Rob Bell is blowing my mind right now.

Bell is a speaker/creator/musician/entrepreneur/filmmaker and former pastor of one of the fastest growing churches in America. In 2011, he was named to Time Magazine’s list of the 100 most influential people in the world. That same year he landed on the magazine’s cover for setting a doctrinal wildfire in the evangelical community.

In his book Love Wins, Bell challenged the orthodox Christian view of hell and suggested Christians should leave room for uncertainty on the matter.

Big trouble. Sides were chosen, tweets were tweeted, the word heresy was affixed, but in our frantic, digital infotainment age where everybody knows everything with 100% certainty at all times, I thought it was refreshing to hear somebody say, maybe we don’t know for sure, let’s talk about it.

After all, what good is doctrinal certainty if it drives people away from the gospel?

I don’t have an opinion on Love Wins because I read only half of it. I put it down because I couldn’t handle it. It was confronting my early, fragile beliefs about Christianity and when things are fragile you tend to build walls around them.

Bell calls that bricklaying in his first book, Velvet Elvis and he advises against it.

“Each of the core doctrines…is like an individual brick that stacks on top of the others. If you pull one out, the whole wall starts to crumble. It appears quite strong and rigid, but if you begin to rethink or discuss even one brick, the whole thing is in danger.”

Alternatively, Bell says, knowing God should be like jumping on a trampoline – a giddy and consuming experience made possible by the springs holding the mat and frame together. The springs, Bell says, are the doctrines of Christian faith that give structure to the experience, and he believes they are designed to flex. He reminds us that The Bible has already withstood centuries of communal scrutiny and debate, and in fact, that’s how early Jews and Christians settled their issues of faith – through study, reflection and discussion within their communities.

My understanding of God is springier now than it was a year ago when I put Love Wins down. I’m more comfortable hearing opinions that mess with mine, because I’m bouncing more than I’m hiding behind bricks. The most interesting Christians I know are doing the same thing.

Even if I wind up disagreeing with Bell’s opinions, I admire his willingness to wrestle with scripture and challenge conventional wisdom in a public forum. That’s brave, especially given America’s touchy religious climate. Love him or hate him, Bell is a seeker who isn’t censoring his findings in order that people like him.

“The ultimate display of our respect for the sacred words of God,” Bell says, “is that we are willing to wade in and struggle with the text – the good parts, the hard-to-understand parts, the parts we wish weren’t there.”