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A faithful presence of love in the absences of our city.

The Problem of Suffering: Habakkuk

I think that Habakkuk is one of the most fascinating books in the corpus of God’s Word, akin to the philosophical dialogues of Plato’s Euthyphro and Hume’s Dialogues, yet instead of a conversation between several intelligent men attempting to sort through the complexities of philosophical intricacy, we have the Creator of the universe in conversation with a man, engaging on the immensely powerful question of pain and suffering.

It is precisely that it was a conversation that brings me back to Sunday’s sermon, as Pastor Justin pointed toward the prominence of relationship in this problem. How marvelous that we have Someone toward whom we can turn and cry out! In contrast to the atheist whose cries fall on the deaf ears of the universe or the Muslim who calls on the uncaring, unyielding Allah, we, as Christians, have the privilege of engaging with our Creator, demanding a response for evil that seems contrary to His very character, and throwing ourselves into the eternal love that began between the Trinity and has been mercifully extended to us. And more than simply conversing with us from afar, we see Him entering into that very suffering, to die the death that we so rightfully deserved, to free us, ultimately, from the pain that we should endure.

One of my former professors, Vince Vitale, co-authored a book with Ravi Zacharias on pain and suffering, in which he tells the following story:

“[O]ne day, when I was about six, I was out playing football on my next-door neighbor’s front lawn with a bunch of older kids, and I was getting knocked around pretty good.
And I came running home crying to my mom, who was out on the front porch, yelling in protest, “I’m not tough enough! I’m not tough enough!”
So guess what my mom did?
She did what any loving mother of a six-year-old son would do. She lowered herself into an athletic stance, with her hands resting on her bent knees. And then she hung her nose out in the air, looked at me lovingly, and said “Punch me in the nose! Punch me in the nose! Come on! You are tough enough! Punch me in the nose!”
At first I just looked at her like she was crazy, and indeed she was, but she persisted: “Punch me in the nose! Punch me in the nose!”
Well, she asked for it. I don’t know what sort of psychological state I must have been in, but finally, I reared back and gave my mom a straight right hand to the nose. And, to my astonishment, blood began pouring out of her nose and down her face.
But then came one of the most gorgeous images I have ever seen. Through the blood came the most dazzling, radiant, joyful smile, and my mom said, “Now get back out there!”
Christians worship a God who, like my mom, was willing to come and suffer alongside us - a God who would not remain comfortably seated on some far-off heavenly throne as we suffered. He could not bear to. As a caring parent, He came alongside His children in the person of Jesus Christ, and He suffered with us.”[1]

More than the humorous nature of the relationship between Vince and his mother, I love this story because I think it is a beautiful analogy of the way in which God, as a father, could not simply offer helpful suggestions on coping with the angst of life, but chose to enter into the pain, to suffer alongside, and to ultimately, one day, through His suffering, provide the release from any pain and hardship.

Shortly after this story, Vince writes the following:

“In the height of irony, it may be the famous atheist and philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche who said it best. He wrote,

The gods justified human life by living it themselves - the only satisfactory [response to the problem of suffering] ever invented.

Remarkably, Nietzsche was writing of the ancient Greeks here and…didn’t make the connection to Christianity! But, as a Christian, I am very pleased to agree with him and then point emphatically to the cross of Jesus Christ.”

And perhaps, as we point to the Cross, we can turn, finally, to God in worship with Habbakuk:

“Though the fig-tree does not bud
and there are no grapes on the vines,
Though the olive crop fails
and the fields produce no food,
Though there are no sheep in the sheepfold
and no cattle in the stalls,
Yet I will rejoice in the Lord,
I will be joyful in God my Savior.
The Sovereign Lord is my strength;
He makes my feet like the feet of a deer,
He enables me to tread on the heights.” (3:17-19)

~ Josh Spare

[1] Ravi Zacharias & Vince Vitale Why Suffering? Finding Meaning and Comfort When Life Doesn’t Make Sense

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