The Sanctification of Suffering

  

 I've been thinking a lot about suffering lately. I've wondered what the real purpose of suffering is and what role it plays in the Great Plan of Happiness? If suffering were bad, Christ wouldn't have done it, nor would he ever inflict us with it. There must be something purposeful, even holy, about suffering. And if that's true, what blessings are we denying ourselves by trying to avoid it at all costs?

    Peter and John were thrust into prison and beaten for teaching and healing in the name of Jesus Christ. Upon their release, they were warned never to speak of Jesus again. They didn't murmur or curse the council for what the council had done. Acts 5:41 says, "And they departed from the presence of the council, rejoicing that they were counted worthy to suffer shame for his name." Then, they went right back to preaching and healing!

This is my goal!

                                                                       Image by: Brf, Wikimedia Commons

 

This is my training program!

 

Image by: 水泳男                                                               Image by: ChurchofJesusChrist.org

 It's funny because it's true, right?

       In the pictures above, I make fun of how common it is for us to be so unwilling to endure anything difficult. Even if the difficult thing is merely to deny ourselves pleasurable things. We spend so much time justifying our need to "indulge" once in a while, or to practice "self-care" that many of us have made ourselves soft. We concern ourselves with getting our fair share or fighting for what we think we have a right to. All in the name of getting even more comfortable than we already are. But what if we've got it all wrong? 

    

                                       Image by: ChurchofJesusChrist.org

     Christ suffered so his little brothers and sisters could live again, become purified, and come back home. That kind of suffering, suffering for a purpose bigger than yourself, is a holy offering beyond any other kind of suffering or sacrifice. The blessings gained from that kind of sacrifice are too numerous to contemplate. But receiving personal blessings wasn’t why he did it. He did it for love. There was value in the suffering itself. His suffering blessed others, and for him that was enough reason to do it. I hope to be like that one day.

 

     But how often do we pray to be as Christ is without having to go through anything he went through? Maybe I'm just speaking for myself, but I often focus on how sinless he was and strive to be like that. Usually without asking for his help. Or I think I should align my will with God (as long as it doesn't interrupt my personal ambitions). It’s funny how articulating it makes it obvious how silly it is. It doesn't seem that I'm going about this the right way.

 

    I've begun to wonder what I’m willing to suffer to actually be like Christ. Not just a façade of what I think he’s like. I imagine a loving healer and peacemaker who was revered by many. But am I also willing to be an outcast in his name? Am I willing to be despised, ridiculed, and mocked? Am I as willing to die for truth as he and his disciples were, I mean actually be put to death in the most horrifying way possible? Am I willing to do all that? If I'm not, then how can I ever truly be like him? Because that was his life. That's what his heart was really made of. He taught the gospel and healed the broken and broken-hearted no matter how angry people got or how tired he became. No matter how many lies were told about him. No matter who turned their back on him. Can I really pray to him and say, "Make me like you, but not with "that" calling or not with "that" ministering companion?" "Make me like you, but punish those who betray me. Don't ever let my friends abandon me on my hardest days. And please, don't make me give up food for a whole 24 hours!" 

 

    Can you see how completely pathetic we must sound to him? And yet, he always answers with love and patience; another skill I have yet to master. How do I even hope to become someone like that? Where do I begin? The answer, I suppose, is somewhere, I mean, literally anywhere. I just need to begin. And maybe the best place to start is exactly where he tells me.

 

"Learn of me, and listen to my words; walk in the meekness of my spirit"

(Doctrine and Covenants 19:23).