The following is based on some thoughts I shared during the Zoom webcast of the "Faith at Eight" service at our (online) church, during the COVID-19 pandemic, on Sunday, June 15th, 2020. This was in the aftermath of the murder of George Floyd (on May 25, 2020) and the subsequent wave of protests that swept across the country.
I'm not sure whether Christian theology is adequate for the present moment, and whether it's really attuned to the suffering of those protesting that "I Can't Breathe," and "Black Lives Matter."
In the lectionary readings of the Episcopal Church the last two months, we've had a steady stream of readings that tell us that suffering is good for us, and that it builds character.
On May 3rd, the Fourth Sunday after Easter, we had a reading from 1Peter 2: 19-25: "It is a credit to you if, being aware of God, you endure pain while suffering unjustly. If you endure when you are beaten for doing wrong, what credit is that? But if you endure when you do right and suffer for it, you have God's approval. For to this you have been called, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, so that you should follow in his steps."
On May 17th, the Sixth Sunday after Easter, we had another reading from 1Peter 3: 13-22: "Now who will harm you if you are eager to do what is good? But even if you do suffer for doing what is right, you are blessed...For it is better to suffer for doing good, if suffering should be God's will, than to suffer for doing evil. For Christ also suffered for sins once for all, the righteous for the unrighteous, in order to bring you to God."
On May 24th, the Seventh Sunday after Easter, we had still another reading from 1Peter 4:12-14, 5:6-11: "Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal that is taking place among you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you, But rejoice insofar as you are sharing Christ's sufferings, so that you may also be glad and shout for joy when his glory is revealed."
And on June 15th, the Second Sunday after Pentecost, we had a reading from Romans 5:1-6, which said, "Since we are justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have obtained access to this grace in which we stand; and we boast in our hope of sharing the glory of God. And not only that, but we also boast in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us."
I think we should be very suspicious of biblical teachings telling us that suffering is good for us, and that we should rejoice and feel blessed in our suffering. I can see that perhaps we could feel blessed while we suffer, but how can we really feel blessed that we suffer?
I think we may need do some critical reevaluation of the Christian concept of suffering.
I also think we should be particularly suspicious when Christianity tells black people that it's good for them to suffer. There's been a long history of Christianity being used as an instrument of subjugation and oppression, and of its telling blacks, Hispanics, Native Americans, and other people of color that suffering is good for them.
James Baldwin, in an essay entitled "Letter from a Region in My Mind," published in The New Yorker in 1962, talks about what we can do about suffering. He doesn't seem to see suffering as simply a yoke on our backs, but rather as something from which we as a country can be redeemed. He says,
"This past, the Negro's past, of rope, fire, torture...rape, death and humiliation; fear by day and night...doubt that he was worthy of life, since everyone around him denied it...this past, this endless struggle to achieve and reveal and confirm a human identity...yet contains, for all its horror, something very beautiful. I do not mean to be sentimental about suffering...but people who cannot suffer can never grow up, can never discover who they are. That man who is forced each day to snatch his manhood, his identity, out of the fire of human cruelty that rages to destroy it knows, if he survives his effort, and even if he does not survive it, something about himself and human life that no school on earth--and indeed, no church--can teach..."1
So there may be a dynamic between, or question about, whether suffering is empowering or disempowering.
Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., in his writings, sermons, and speeches, emphasizes the redemptive aspect of suffering. In an article for The Christian Century (1960), he says,
"My personal trials have also taught me the value of unmerited suffering. As my sufferings mounted I soon realized that there were two ways that I could respond to my situation: either to react with bitterness or seek to transform the suffering into a creative force. I decided to follow the latter course. Recognizing the necessity for suffering I have tried to make of it a virtue. If only to save myself from bitterness, I have attempted to see my personal ordeals as an opportunity to transform myself and heal the people involved in the tragic situation which now obtains. I have lived these last few years with the conviction that unearned suffering is redemptive."2
I think we need to be very wary, however, of the tendency in Christian theology to see suffering as good in itself.
The German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche, in On the Genealogy of Morality (1877), distinguishes between master morality and slave morality, and he describes Christianity as an example of slave morality. Christianity, by attempting to "improve" us, actually weakens and subjugates us, he says. By emphasizing self-sacrifice and self-denial, Christianity represents a denial of the will to live.
Nietzsche was interested in saying "Yes" to life, and in affirming the will to live. Thus, he rejected anything he saw as life-denying or as denying the will to live. For Nietzsche, the Christian concept of God is a concept of nothingness. God is dead. And in On the Genealogy of Morality, he says,
"What actually arouses indignation over suffering is not the suffering itself, but the senselessness of suffering: but neither for the Christian, who saw in suffering a whole, hidden machinery of salvation, nor for naive man in ancient times, who saw all suffering in relation to spectators or to instigators of suffering, was there any such senseless suffering. In order to rid the world of concealed, undiscovered, unseen suffering and to deny it in all honesty, people were then practically obliged to invent gods" [or God] in order to explain or make sense of senseless suffering.3
So there may also be a dynamic between master morality and slave morality, for those trying to make sense of their suffering.
I think white America would like nothing better than for black America to accept a kind of slave morality, and for black Americans to rejoice and feel blessed in their suffering. Maybe that's why we have black theology, feminist theology, womanist theology, queer theology, and other liberation theologies, because we need a faith that liberates us from suffering and oppression. We need a faith that speaks to us, that recognizes us for who we are, that sees that Christ suffers with and for us, and that recognizes that Christ came to us to free us from suffering.
The German philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer, whose concept of the will to live influenced Nietzsche, also has some interesting things to say about suffering. In The World as Will and Representation (1818), Schopenhauer describes a theory of the human will, according to which all representations of the world are manifestations of the will. An individual or person is a knowing subject whose will is manifested in the world as representation. The world is an idea insofar as it is an object of perception, but the world is the will insofar as all our perceptions are acts of conscious or unconscious will. The will is the ultimate reality or being-in-itself of the world.
According to Schopenhauer, life is suffering. Suffering is caused by unfulfilled or frustrated volition. All volition arises from a state of deprivation, and no satisfaction is lasting. Thus, satisfaction is always merely the starting point of a new striving.4 The only way to overcome suffering is by denial of the will. True salvation, or redemption from suffering, cannot even be imagined without total denial of the will.5 Christ, as a symbol and personification of self-sacrifice and self-denial, therefore symbolizes and personifies the denial of the will.6
What is suffering? Dr. Eric Cassell, Professor Emeritus of Public Health at Weill Medical College of Cornell University, has written extensively about the medical treatment of suffering, and he defines suffering as "a state of distress associated with events that threaten the intactness or wholeness of a person."7 He explains that pain is often associated with suffering, but that they are not the same. He says,
"patients may tolerate severe pain without considering themselves to be suffering, if they know the source of the pain, that it can be controlled, and that it will come to an end. However, even apparently minor pain or other symptoms may cause suffering if they are believed to have a dire cause...if they are viewed as never-ending, or if patients consider the symptoms (and themselves) to be beyond help, or if their condition is considered hopeless. Suffering may occur in the absence of any symptoms whatsoever, e.g., when one is forced to witness helplessly the pain of a loved one. Indeed, helplessness itself may be a source of suffering."8
Perhaps we should keep in mind, when interpreting a biblical text like Paul's Letter to the Romans, that we should consider the audience to which it was addressed. The early Christians were a persecuted and oppressed people. However, the meaning of Paul's letter for the early Christians in 57-58 CE may be quite different (for many reasons) from its meaning for us today.
On the other hand, if the readings in the church lectionary aren't addressed to us, to a modern audience, then why are we reading them? Why are they part of the liturgy? Are we reading them merely out of historical interest? If so, then they might be suitable for academic study, but they seem rather useless in practice. Who chooses the lectionary readings that we read in church each Sunday? I assume it's someone in the hierarchy of the Church. So why did that person (or those persons) decide to include in the lectionary, week after week, readings that tell us to rejoice and feel blessed in our suffering? To whom are these readings being addressed?
Cari Jackson (2013), a religious scholar, teacher, and minister in the United Church of Christ, asks the following questions:
"The dilemma is this: if suffering is redemptive, how do black Christians, especially given the socio-historical experience of blacks in America, become equipped to use their human agency and moral authority when they are encouraged by sermons to acquiesce to and endure suffering? How are they to determine which social hardships they are divinely called to endure and which to transform? Instead of contributing to liberation, a theology of suffering as commonly used in black preaching contributes to a social conditioning of black Christians to accept and acquiesce to oppressive power relations they may experience within black denominational churches or in the broader U.S. society."9
Thus, some writers have proposed humanism as an alternative to theism as a response to the problem of suffering.
Anthony Pinn (2006), a Professor of Religion at Rice University, distinguishes between "weak humanism," which doesn't call God's existence into question, and which responds to oppressive power relations by emphasizing the right of the oppressed to claim equal human dignity in relation to those who oppress them, and "strong humanism," which denies the existence of a God who sanctions or encourages human suffering, and which responds to social oppression by expressing a radical commitment to human interests, values, and dignity.10
Sophie Menconi (2018) notes the doctrine of redemptive suffering may have harmful effects for victims of domestic abuse and violence, insofar as it may encourage them to believe that their suffering is God's will, and that they should endure suffering in order to become closer to God.11
Colin Bossen (2010), a Unitarian minister, writer, and social justice activist, says that black humanism's response to suffering is that "suffering is not redemptive; [rather] we must take responsibility for eradicating. it." He also explains that according to humanism, suffering is not the result of some divine plan, and it is not God who has the power to end suffering, rather, it is humanity that can reduce or limit suffering.12
Scott Samuelson (2018), a philosophy professor at Kirkwood Community College in Iowa City, Iowa, describes seven ways of looking at pointless suffering, including three modern ways: (1) we should eliminate pointless suffering, (2) we should embrace pointless suffering, (3) we must take responsibility for pointless suffering, and four perennial ways: (4) pointless suffering reveals God, (5) pointless suffering atones us with nature, (6) pointless suffering evokes our humanity, and (7) pointless suffering inspires art.
Samuelson also describes two basic responses to suffering: the "fix-it" attitude, and the "face-it" attitude. In some cases, we may try to fix suffering without really facing it, and in other cases we may try to face suffering without really trying to fix it. A third response, however, the "forget about it" attitude, may (unfortunately in many cases) be the most common one, he says.13
I think a crucial point to consider in examining the perspectives of various philosophers and theologians regarding the meaning or purpose of suffering is that suffering may or may not be voluntarily chosen. In some cases, we may have a choice of whether or not to endure suffering. In other cases, we may have no choice but to endure suffering, and we may only be able to choose how best to accept, alleviate, survive, or transform it. However, it may be pointless to voluntarily endure suffering for no good purpose or reason. Thus, some rational purposes or reasons for voluntarily enduring suffering may include: (1) if by enduring suffering, we can alleviate the suffering of others, (2) if by enduring suffering, we can express our support for and solidarity with those who have been unjustly subjected to suffering, (3) if by enduring suffering, we can make a stand for truth, compassion, and justice, and can resist falsehood, cruelty, and injustice, and (4) if our resistance to suffering would only make that suffering worse.
What kinds of physical or mental suffering can it be rational to willingly accept or voluntarily choose to endure? Can extreme acts of self-inflicted suffering (such as mutilating oneself as an act of atonement or setting oneself on fire as an act of protest) be rational under some conditions? Is there a rational basis for religious practices such as self-flagellation or body piercing that involve self-inflicted suffering? When can acts of self-inflicted suffering truly be described as pious or altruistic, and when can they be described as merely attention-seeking, self-destructive, deluded, or masochistic? The answers to these questions may vary according to the aims, attitudes, and motivations of the individual, and according to the particular circumstances involved. But it may be irrational to voluntarily choose to endure suffering when such an act is obviously useless, futile, or counterproductive with regard to the ends that are sought.
I think we should resist the notion of a (cruel and vengeful) God who requires us to suffer or who demands that we suffer in order to achieve our salvation. I think we should also resist the notion of a God who approves human suffering, injustice, and oppression. If believing in God means believing in love and thus being able to free ourselves from suffering, then looking at suffering as something good in itself is wrong, and we should reject any theological doctrines that tell us to ignore, accept, or celebrate the world's suffering.
FOOTNOTES
1James Baldwin, "Letter from a Region in My Mind, The New Yorker, Nov. 17, 1962 issue, online at https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/1962/11/17/letter-from-a-region-in-my-mind.
2Martin Luther King, Jr., "Suffering and Faith," in The Christian Century, April 27, 1960, online at https://kinginstitute.stanford.edu/king-papers/documents/suffering-and-faith.
3Friedrich Nietzsche, On the Genealogy of Morality [1877], edited by Keith Ansell-Pearson, translated by Carol Diethe (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1994), p. 44.
4Arthur Schopenhauer, The World as Will and Idea, edited by David Berman, translated by Jill Berman (London: Orion Publishing Group, 1995), p. 195.
5Ibid., p. 250.
6Schopenhauer, The World as Will and Representation, Volume I, translated by E.F.J. Payne (New York: Dover Publications, 1966), p. 405.
7Eric Cassell, "The Relief of Suffering," in Arch Intern Med, Vol. 143, March 1983, 522-523.
8Ibid., 522-523.
9Cari Jackson, For the Souls of Black Folks: Reimagining Black Preaching for 21st Century Liberation (Eugene, OR: Pickwick Publications, 2013), p. 135.
10Anthony Pinn, Why Lord? Suffering and Evil in Black Theology (New York: Continuum, 2006), p. 141.
11Sophie Menconi, "Carrying the Sins of Others: The Theology of Redemption and Experiences of Black Womanhood in Pauline Hopkins' Contending Forces," in Articulate, Vol. 23, 2018, P. 47.
12Colin Bossen, "Black Humanism's Response to Suffering," in UU World: July 19, 2010, online at https://www.uuworld.org/articles/black-humanism-response-suffering.
13Scott Samuelson, Seven Ways Of Looking at Pointless Suffering: What Philosophy Can Tell Us about the Hardest Mystery of All (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2018), p. 8.
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