The Redemptive Act of Suffering

Today is the Feast of the Transfiguration. It is also the one year anniversary of my diagnosis of cancer. I know I’ve mentioned this before, but it is so amazing to me the way each of my steps along the way of my diagnosis and treatment coincided with a great liturgical feast of the Church. I find this to be especially poignant today, given the significance of the Transfiguration in the development of the faith of the Apostles and of the Church. The Apostles were given a glimpse of the glory of God, the true splendor of the Almighty, so that when their faith was shaken to its core by the death of Jesus, they would have something to hold on to, some glimpse of what was to come, and in the light of the Resurrection they would more fully comprehend the events of the Passion of Christ. I find St. Peter’s own recollection of this event to be particularly edifying:

For we did not follow cleverly devised myths when we made known to you the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, but we were eyewitnesses of his majesty. For when he received honor and glory from God the Father and the voice was borne to him by the Majestic Glory, "This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased," we heard this voice borne from heaven, for we were with him on the holy mountain (2 Pet 1:16-18).

Because of this eyewitness of the glory of the Transfigured Christ, and the Passion of Christ which immediately followed, Peter was able to understand that for the Christian, the cross is the path to glory, suffering is the means by which we share in the glory and divinity of Christ. So he also wrote, Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal which comes upon you to prove you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice in so far as you share Christ's sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when his glory is revealed. If you are reproached for the name of Christ, you are blessed, because the spirit of glory and of God rests upon you. But let none of you suffer as a murderer, or a thief, or a wrongdoer, or a mischief-maker; yet if one suffers as a Christian, let him not be ashamed, but under that name let him glorify God. For the time has come for judgment to begin with the household of God; and if it begins with us, what will be the end of those who do not obey the gospel of God? And "If the righteous man is scarcely saved, where will the impious and sinner appear?" Therefore let those who suffer according to God's will do right and entrust their souls to a faithful Creator (1 Pet 4:12-19).

There is something very important that we often miss here, it’s something that my own encounter with cancer has taught me and with which I continue to struggle mightily. An easy mistake made by Christians in interpreting the cross is that any suffering we endure is bearing the cross. This is simply not true. There are many ways and forms of suffering, but only by suffering with Christ can we truly bear the cross. Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote thus: “The cross is not adversity, nor the harshness of fate, but suffering coming solely from our commitment to Jesus Christ. The suffering of the cross is not fortuitous, but necessary. The cross is not the suffering tied to natural existence, but the suffering tied to being Christians. The cross is never simply a matter of suffering, but a matter of suffering and rejection, and even, strictly speaking, rejection for the sake of Jesus Christ, not for the sake of some other arbitrary behavior or confession” (Discipleship and the Cross, ch. 1). When we relate the simple fact of our suffering existence to the bearing of our cross, we end up cheapening the salvific act of Christ crucified.

The cross is about more than just suffering, it is about suffering that involves rejection on account of our commitment to Christ. Ultimately what this really means is humility. We can in fact transform any suffering that comes our way into the suffering of the cross, but only if we allow ourselves to be truly humbled in the face of it. Christ tells us in the Gospel that each of us has our own cross to bear, meaning that it is something specifically designed for us, it is our cross. Not all of us will have great crosses to bear, but sometimes a multitude of little crosses can be just as great a challenge, or even greater. Those who carry great crosses are often praised and honored for their courage and their perseverance, whereas the little crosses simply go unnoticed. But the little crosses are often the true path to sainthood. This, in fact, is what has made St. Therese of Lisieux a Doctor of the Church, primarily because of her understanding of the “Little Way.” In the face of the bitterness of the sisters with whom she lived, and one sister in particular, she recognized that by not giving voice to her anger or her frustration with the way she was mistreated, but instead by continuing to respond in charity to those who treated her with the most malice, this was her rejection, this was her cross. She suffered in silence, and lived entirely for God, completely conformed to the love of Christ demonstrated from the cross.

In today’s world it is very popular to complain about how we are so misunderstood, and how our sufferings and our pains are unique. I myself am afflicted with a terrible pride, and I often embrace suffering for no other reason than for the sympathy that comes with it, and for the chance publicly to prove my fortitude. This is entirely satanic, and is a complete rejection of the cross. This is a lesson I am learning the hard way, because one year ago today I was given a tremendous opportunity to bear my own cross, and in many ways I rejected it. Yes, I still suffered, but my suffering was often not the cross. Too often I sought the way of consolation, not the way of rejection, and so I gained very little of the value of the cross, and my suffering was not as redemptive as it could have been.

St. Paul tells us that we must have among us the mind of Christ (Phil 2:5), which is to say that we must seek not glory of men, but rather must empty ourselves completely of our own cares and desires and concerns, and live completely for our fellow man. The sufferings that we must endure can only be redemptive when they conform to the Cross, and so we must accept them in all humility, and use them as a means to complete what is lacking in Christ's afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the church (Col 1:24). It is by embracing the cross that we can bring the rest of the sufferings of humanity to Christ, and by carrying the redemptive suffering of Christ in our own hearts we bring that very redemption to those who are longing for it. To suffer without complaint, without recognition, to suffer in rejection and isolation, this is to carry the cross ordained for us, this is to have the mind of Christ, and this alone allows our suffering to have the value of redemption.

To put it another way, the only way for suffering to have any value of redemption at all is for that suffering to be born out of love. It cannot be suffering for the sake of suffering, but suffering for the sake of love. This is why Christ alone, as true God and true Man, could bring us redemption, because, as God, He alone could love perfectly enough to bear the sin of all of humanity. John Paul II wrote in his Apostolic Letter, Salvifici Dolores: “In his suffering, sins are cancelled out precisely because he alone as the only-begotten Son could take them upon himself, accept them with that love for the Father which overcomes the evil of every sin; in a certain sense he annihilates this evil in the spiritual space of the relationship between God and humanity, and fills this space with good.”

This is the cross, bearing our own sufferings and the sufferings of the world out of love for God, united in faith to the Risen Savior. Today, on this Feast of the Transfiguration, we are given a glimpse of the glory that comes from the path of suffering, as a means of encouraging us along our way. The promise of God is eternal life, won by the victory of the cross, the suffering of the Servant, the only-begotten Son of God, Christ Jesus our Lord. In order to become true partakers in that glory of the Risen One, we must first learn to embrace the humble service of suffering, born out of love of God. The glory is the hope in which we are saved (cf. Rom 8:24), but in order to get there we must patiently, courageously, humbly, and most of all, lovingly, embrace the sufferings of the here and now.

We read further in Salvifici Dolores, “In the Cross of Christ not only is the Redemption accomplished through suffering, but also human suffering itself has been redeemed.” Because Christ suffered for us, we may suffer with him. In other words, our suffering now can be united to God, and can in fact unite us to God. And by bearing the sufferings of our fellow man (com-passion means “to suffer with”), we can also bring man to God. This is the ultimate act of love, and this is what allows us to truly have the mind of Christ. We recognize Mary as the type of Church, and she is the God-bearer, the Theotokos. So too is the Church – so too are we. We are the bearers of Christ, and we are so perfectly when we suffer with Him and for Him, when we complete what is lacking in His afflictions by bringing the suffering world to the foot of the Cross.

Peace in Christ,
Michael