Suffering

Becoming a Hopeful Presence

Aug 30, 2024

Umntu ngumtu ngabantu. That’s not a typo. Late Bishop Desmond Tutu translates the Xhosa phrase as “A person is a person through other persons.”^[1] You may have heard it called “Ubuntu.” Ubuntu, Tutu continues, “speaks of how my humanity is caught up and bound up inextricably with yours.”^[2] We belong to each other. Maybe that’s why I feel pain that isn’t “mine.”

A new school year started recently, and children and parents alike were excited. First-day photos and heartfelt posts filled social media. The happiness we captured and shared through our pictures and words encouraged and uplifted my soul. That quickly changed.

My social feed transitioned from joy to anguish. I saw more pictures and videos of dead Palestinian babies and young children. A local teenager was sentenced to twenty years for attempted murder. Students in our communities are dying from suicide.

My humanity is bound with theirs, and I could no longer be obliviously happy. I was undone with sorrow. Then, I remembered and prayed this line, “May we in our joys find grace to enter the sorrows of others.”^[3] That’s what Jesus did—He entered the sorrows of humanity.

Jesus teaches His followers to join and participate in the suffering of others as a hopeful presence. We find a powerful example in John 11, and I want us to consider three points: leave, join, and love.

Overview

John 11:1-44 centers around death, grief, and hope. Lazarus (Jesus’ friend) falls ill, and his sisters Mary and Martha send for Jesus’ help. Jesus delays coming to Lazarus, and Lazarus dies. Arriving at a grief-stricken scene, Jesus embodies the hope of restoration and resurrection and brings Lazarus back to life.

Leave

We must be willing to leave our dwelling place—our comfort, convenience, and experience—and go toward the suffering. Let’s look at Jesus’ example.

Outlining the Gospel of John, Dr. Gerald Borchert describes chapters 5-11 as the “Festival Cycle because the Jewish feasts are the foundational settings” for John’s message.^[4] Jesus possibly received word of Lazarus’ sickness while celebrating a Jewish Feast. Celebratory or not, Jesus was willing to leave His current situation and go toward suffering. After two days, He said, “Let us go back to Judea.”^[5]

Jesus decided to go toward suffering despite the cost. After saying, “We’re going to Judea”, Jesus’ disciples considered the cost. They asked, “A short while ago, the Jews there tried to stone you, and yet you are going back?”^[6]

Diane Chen writes, “Acts of justice and mercy are costly, and it is much easier to pretend not to notice—or, worse, to stand and stare but not say a word or lift a finger.”^[7] The cost of going was high, even deadly. Still, Jesus said yes.

Jesus or His disciples spoke of “going” three more times after acknowledging the danger (v. 11, 14, 16). Determined to go, Jesus and His followers left for the village of Bethany, which means “the house of suffering.”^[8]

Join

We must join people’s suffering as a hopeful presence. Before we look to Jesus, here are some thoughts on hope.

Hope tends to be future-oriented. Steve Nolan writes, “Our hope for or hope that is a desire towards something that, at least potentially, is yet to be realized.”^[9] Speaking with chaplains, Nolan suggests a different hope:

We’re not necessarily involved with hope in the future, but somehow that actually the present can be livable with, however bad it might seem … hope that the present is, not necessarily okay, but okay not to be okay, perhaps – hope in the present.^[10]

In other words, there is hope in a ministry of presence. Not advising nor fixing, just being with people in whatever they face.

Jesus’ hope is both present and future. Jesus provided hope (future) when He first received word of Lazarus. Before He stated, “we’re going,” Jesus said, “This sickness will not end in death.”^[11] There was hope from the outset, but they struggled to hear, understand, and believe.

Then, when he arrived, Martha affirmed her understanding of a future hope—“He will rise again in the resurrection at the last day.”^[12] Martha believed in a future hope of resurrection (afterlife/heaven), but could not understand her present hope.

Jesus answers, “I am the resurrection and the life.”^[13] He said, “I am” (present); He did not say “I will be” (future). Jesus was not so future-oriented that He neglected to be present.

In His ministry of presence, Jesus listened to their perspective, experience, and pain (v. 21, 24, 27, 32, 38). The Lord saw their tears (v. 33), and He wept too (v. 35). Jesus knew the outcome; Lazarus would live again.

Yet, He didn’t rush to resurrection. Jesus joined and participated in their suffering as a hopeful presence. Then, He merged the present and future hope by resurrecting Lazarus before their eyes that they may believe (v. 41-45).

**Jesus weeping with Mary and Martha ( James Tissot 1886–1896)—Photo Credit**

Love

As we model our lives after Jesus, we must extend sacrificial love to all.

It was well known that Jesus loved Mary, Martha, and Lazarus. The author mentions Jesus’ love for them three times in this passage and twice in the first five verses (v. 3, 5, 36). Love motivates Jesus’ actions. A love not only for His friends but also the watching world so they might believe (v. 15, 25-26, 40, 42; John 3:16).

God’s love seems paradoxical. His love is free yet costly. It involves sacrifice. Our thoughts, words, and actions must flow from a heart formed by God’s sacrificial love. Jesus is our example, and we see His sacrificial love throughout the Lazarus narrative.

Jesus was nearly killed in Judea before He received news of Lazarus (v.8). Still, He decided to return to that dangerous area for His friends (and others so they might believe).

Many people believed in Jesus after He raised Lazarus from the dead. It also spurred a meeting by religious leaders, and they decided “from that day on they plotted to take his life.”^[14] Jesus’ loving actions on that day marked the beginning of the end of His life. Love costs Jesus, and love costs us too.

Application

It may not cost our actual lives, but loving people well comes at a price. Love requires time, comfort, convenience, accountability, apology, and repentance (change of direction/action). It involves de-centering ourselves, stepping out of our worldviews, and considering another perspective. Love is costly.

Are we willing to pay the price of loving well? If yes, for who? Our families, friends, and in-groups, or are we called to more?

In Matthew 22, Jesus condenses the entire law into two commands: love God with your whole being and love your neighbor as yourself. Loving your neighbor is Jesus quoting from Leviticus 19:18, and the linguistic range of “neighbor” in Hebrew contains our answer about who to love.

The semantic range for “neighbor” in Hebrew includes “friend, companion, associate, own people, another, other person, opponent, anyone among people.”^[15] So, who do we express sacrificial love to? The answer: any and everyone. Love God and love our neighbors.

Let us follow Jesus’ example and embody sacrificial love by joining and participating in the suffering of others.

Prayer

Our Father, the God of all comfort, the Gatherer of Tears, we are grateful that you empathize with our pain and step into our suffering. We thank You for our present and future hope in You. May we offer that hopeful presence to our neighbors. Give us awareness of other people's suffering and the grace to enter their pain compassionately. May You empower us to love like You do, expressing sacrificial love toward all.

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The Pursuit of Wholeness with Pastor Paul