Have you ever come across passages or phrases in God’s Word that make you think, this has to be a misprint? There’s simply no way a sane and spiritual biblical author could say such a thing!
I have that experience every time I read 2 Corinthians 6:10 where Paul describes himself as “sorrowful, yet always rejoicing”. I want to say, “Make up your mind, Paul! You can’t have it both ways. Sorrow and joy are incompatible. They are mutually exclusive states of being. They cancel each other out.” If you keep talking like that people will begin to wonder if you’re suffering from schizophrenia.
It gets even worse in Colossians 1:24 where he says, “I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake.”
What is going on here? You’re sorrowful, yet always rejoicing. You rejoice in suffering. Are you nuts?
In 1897 Samuel Zwemer and his wife went to the Persian Gulf to bring the gospel to the Muslims in Bahrein. They didn’t seem much success in terms of conversions. The temperature typically rose to 107 in the shade. In July of 1904, only seven years into their ministry, both his daughters, ages four and seven, died within eight days of each other. And yet 50 years later, in looking back on what he experienced, Zwemer said, “The sheer joy of it all comes back. Gladly would I do it all over again” (DG, 246).
How do you account for this kind of language and this perspective on suffering? Do you conclude from it that Paul and people like Samuel Zwemer were emotionally unstable, idle dreamers, men who lost touch with reality, or do you see in these words men who had a deep and profound grasp on what is of ultimate value? I suggest it is the latter.
Let’s be clear about one thing. If there is no life beyond the grave, people like Paul and Samuel Zwemer are certifiably insane. If this world is all there has been, is, or ever will be, it is senseless to speak of joy in the midst of suffering. The value system that accounts for Paul’s point of view is one shaped by a belief in the reality of eternity, a life everlasting in which never-ending good prevails over evil, an existence in which the beauty and splendor of Jesus Christ provide ceaseless and ever-increasing satisfaction that transcends anything this current life can afford.
Paul’s “sorrow” was very real. His anticipation of eternal joy did not negate the hardships of life, but it did make them bearable. We misunderstand the apostle, and Christianity as a whole, if we believe the Bible is telling us to ignore pain or pretend that it is less agonizing than it is.
The source of his sorrow was multi-faceted. He felt “great sorrow and unceasing anguish” (Rom. 9:2) over the lost estate of his Jewish brethren. His often tumultuous relationship with the Corinthians was the source of “much affliction and anguish of heart” (2 Cor. 2:4). Then there was “the daily pressure” of his “anxiety for all the churches” (2 Cor. 11:28), not to mention the sadness he felt upon seeing Christ scorned and mocked, as well as his own sufferings from persecution and slander.
Yet, we are told, he was “always rejoicing”! This can only be explained in light of two factors. First, he must have believed that even the worst of circumstances and the most oppressive of trials were subject to an overriding and gracious providence. Were it not for his belief that “all things work together for good” for those who love God and are called according to his purpose (Rom. 8:28), he could not have rejoiced simultaneously with his sorrow. It was not wishful thinking but the most rigorous spiritual realism that enabled him to endure, knowing that whatever befell him was sovereignly designed to facilitate his conformity “to the image” of God’s Son, Jesus Christ (Rom. 8:29).
Second, there must have been a deep and abiding well of spiritual refreshment from which he regularly drew that provided his heart with incomparable and life-sustaining satisfaction, something so fascinating, enthralling, and captivating that no root of bitterness could thrive or disillusionment could displace. As we’ve seen repeatedly, it was the goodness and grace of the Lord Jesus Christ himself (cf. 2 Cor. 12:9-10).
Even when joy in the present felt incomplete and distant and strained, Paul labored to savor the foretaste of future delight in God, no doubt constantly reminding himself that “the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us” (Rom. 8:18). Clearly, true joy is not dependent on pleasant circumstances. It is possible to rejoice in a way that is genuine and real and sincere and unfeigned while yet enduring trials that in themselves have the potential to bring only misery and despair.
And it’s not just Paul who feels this way. It’s Peter too!
Peter picks up on this theme here in the first chapter of his first epistle. “In this,” says Peter in v. 6, “you rejoice.” Then again in v. 8 he says that Christians should “rejoice with joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory”!
What makes these two declarations about joy so remarkable is that they surround a description of suffering and trial and hardship, the very experiences that many think would make joy impossible. How can a person rejoice in the midst of pain? How can a sane human being celebrate God when God has allowed them to fall into hardship and deprivation? How can a Christian joyfully embrace weakness and disappointment and tribulation and trial?
Is it all a ruse? Is Peter really serious when he speaks this way? Is he just pretending? Some would insist that it’s all make believe. It’s pretense.
In response, let me tell you the story of Joni Eareckson Tada.
I first met Joni Eareckson Tada in 1991, in Orlando, Florida, at a conference where we were both scheduled to speak. I felt honored to meet her and even more so when she agreed to write the Foreword to my book, “To Love Mercy.”
Perhaps you don’t know who Joni is. Joni was 17 years old in 1967 when she had a diving accident that left her a quadriplegic. She is now 59 years of age, having lived the last 42 years in a wheelchair, learning how to cope and survive without use of her hands or legs. Her ministry, Joni and Friends, has reached out to help others who’ve experienced similar tragedies, and done so with remarkable success.
Don’t dismiss what I’m saying simply because Joni’s suffering is so severe. Note how Peter refers to “various trials” in v. 6. They can assume any number of shapes and expressions: cancer, rebellious and ungrateful child, financial strain, a broken heart from a broken engagement, loss of a job, divorce, a friend declares he/she is gay, daily derision at work from those who think you’re a fuddy duddy, a kill joy, a dupe for believing in the supernatural, etc.
In the months following her accident, she became horribly depressed and suicidal. “I would wrench my head back and forth on the pillow at night,” said Joni, “hoping to break my neck at a higher level and thereby kill myself. I would beg my high school girlfriends to sneak in their mothers’ sleeping pills or their fathers’ razors. Anything to put me out of my misery.”
As the years passed, Joni came to a deeper understanding of what had happened to her and why. Suffering is a mystery, said Joni, “but not a mystery without direction.”
“We know one thing in this mystery: nobody is glorifying suffering. God does not think that a spinal cord injury is a great idea. There is no inherent goodness in cerebral palsy, muscular dystrophy, multiple sclerosis, cystic fibrosis, brain injury, stroke, heart disease, manic depression, No, No, No! There is no inherent goodness in disease or disability, but . . . God can reach down into what otherwise would seem like a terrible difficulty and wrench out of it positive good for us and glory for Himself. There is no inherent goodness in disability, disease, or deformity but we are promised in the book of Romans 8:28 that all things can fit together into a pattern, a plan for good, our good and His Glory.
What is that good? I can’t speak for you. I really can’t, and I would never take my experience and lay it like a template over your life and say this is the way God ought to work in your life. No, it doesn’t work that way. We’re all individuals, we’re all significant, we’re all unique, and God’s plan for each one of us is so personal, so highly personal.
[As time passed] . . . other things began to matter to me as well. God used this injury to develop in me patience and endurance and tolerance and self-control and steadfastness and sensitivity and love and joy.”
How can a quadriplegic honestly and sincerely testify to experiencing joy in the midst of that kind of almost unimaginable suffering, in Joni’s case, for over 42 years? How?
It is impossible to overemphasize the frequency and focus of the Bible on joy. In God’s presence, says the psalmist, “is fullness of joy” and “at his right hand are pleasures evermore” (Ps. 16:11). In Psalm 37:4 we are commanded to “delight” ourselves in the Lord. Joy is one of the many fruit of the Spirit, as Paul says in Galatians 5. He exhorts the Philippians to “rejoice in the Lord always, and again I say rejoice” (4:4). In summing up all that he had revealed and taught his disciples, Jesus said, “these things I speak in the world, that they may have my joy fulfilled in themselves” (John 17:13). And I could go on citing dozens and dozens of other texts that affirm the same thing.
The Christian life is clearly one of immense, intense, ever-increasing joy that is often, as in the case of Joni, experienced simultaneously with unimaginable hardship, like paralysis.
Here in 1 Peter 1 the apostle mentions two reasons why we can “rejoice” in the midst of often horrific and terrible suffering. We’ve already seen the first. I pointed out in a message a few weeks ago that when Peter opens v. 6 with the words “in this” you rejoice, the “this” to which he refers is the glorious truth of our having been born again by God’s great mercy and our having been given a living hope that we shall receive an incorruptible and undefiled and unfading eternal inheritance. In other words, thinking about and meditating upon and pondering the marvel of this truth of what we have in Christ by grace enables us to persevere under great stress and hardship and pain.
There is no better illustration of this than what we read in Hebrews 10:34 . . .
But there is another reason why Peter can say with a straight face and a sincere heart that we are to rejoice in suffering. It’s found in vv. 6-7. He highlights two things about our suffering that are essential for us to understand if we ever hope to experience joy in the midst of it. And it has to do with both the duration and design of suffering.
(1) Duration
“Now, for a little while,” says Peter, “you have been grieved by various trials.” “A little while” is somewhat relative, depending on your circumstances and the nature of your suffering. It could mean 15 minutes or 15 years, or perhaps even the entire span of our lives on earth.
I think Peter’s point is that when compared to eternity, the time of suffering now will always be but “a little while.” Compared to the inheritance imperishable, undefiled, unfading, kept in heaven for you, suffering is only for a little while.
In 2 Corinthians 4:16-18 Paul declares that the persecution he endures and the trials he confronts daily are but “slight momentary affliction”! Paul was no Pollyanna. The suffering in his life was very real, not imaginary, and if viewed only from an earthly or temporal perspective would probably be more than any human might endure. But when viewed from the vantage point of eternity his suffering took on a different hue – it seemed slight and temporary.
In Romans 8:18 Paul says that “the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us.”
God is not asking you to treat pain as though it were pleasure, or grief as though it were joy, but to bring all earthly adversity into comparison with heavenly glory and thereby be strengthened to endure.
(2) Design
What does Peter say that justifies the idea that God has a design or aim or goal in our suffering? Two things in particular.
First, note the words “if necessary”. What kind of necessity is this? Who or what is making the distress of these trials "necessary"? Is it some unavoidable fate? Are the stars above in control of our destiny? Has Satan imposed an inevitable suffering to which we must submit?
No! The necessity comes from God. Peter makes it plain that Christian distress only happens if God wills it. For example, in 3:17 he says, “For it is better to suffer for doing good, if that should be God’s will, than for doing evil.” You might suffer for doing what is right; you might not. The ultimate choice is God's. “If that should be God’s will,” we will or we won't. Or again in 4:19 he says, “Therefore let those who suffer according to God’s will entrust their souls to a faithful Creator while doing good.”
In other words, Peter is teaching that the sovereign will of God governs all the distresses that happen to us and, therefore the design in them is not ultimately the design of evil men or the design of Satan, but is a design of God.
So when Peter says in verse 6, "If necessary, you have been distressed by various trials," he means, "If God deems it necessary."
Second, why would God deem it necessary to allow suffering in our lives? The answer is found in v. 7 and the little purpose statement, “so that”: so that “the tested genuineness of your faith, more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire, may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.”
What this verse does is spell out the design of our distresses. The design is that our troubles and trials would refine the genuineness of our faith the way fire refines gold so that when Christ comes back, the quality of our faith would win praise and glory and honor.
Approved faith is said to be more valuable than gold because gold is temporary and will ultimately be destroyed. But faith is also compared with gold because both are refined and purified of their dross and alloy when in the fire.
When gold is melted in the fire the impurities float to the top and can be removed. When the refining fire is over, the gold is even more valuable. So it is with your faith in God. You have faith. You trust his promises. But there are impurities in it. There are elements of murmuring and pessimism. And there are tendencies to trust money and position and popularity alongside God.
These impurities in our faith hinder our fullest experience of the goodness and greatness of God. So God designs to refine our faith with the fires of trial and distress. His aim is that our faith be more pure and more genuine. That is, that it be more utterly dependent on him and not on things and other persons for our joy.
Suffering is not because you lack faith or have faith that is inadequate, but in order to refine it and strengthen it and above all else to display the supremacy of God as one who is worthy of faith and trust and our confidence even when circumstances are hard and painful.
Cf. 2 Corinthians 1:8-9 . . .
Let me give you another example of what both Peter and Paul have in mind.
Nancy Heche (1) her first child dies two months after birth; (2) husband Don, fundamentalist Baptist; double life / homosexuality, died of AIDS in March of 1983; (3) Nathan, 18, dies in car wreck two months later; (4) Abigail, her middle daughter, is expelled from Wheaton College and first becomes a prostitute and stripper; she is subsequently saved and is now walking with the Lord; (5) Nancy herself engages in a number of adulterous affairs, giving vent to her bitterness and anger over her husband’s betrayal; (6) Anne, her youngest daughter becomes an actress and wins several Emmy awards for a daytime soap opera; (7) in 1997 Anne falls in love with Ellen DeGeneres as they become the most famous lesbian couple in the world; (8) Nancy is alienated from Anne for not accepting her homosexual lifestyle; (9) after having lost two children and her husband to death and her youngest daughter to alienation, Nancy’s oldest daughter Susan is diagnosed with a brain tumor and dies in January of 2005. (10) Susan’s husband and his new wife are both killed in a car crash in San Francisco. (11) Nancy is married to Bob Scheobrel in December of 2008. (12) Bob dies of a heart attack on the golf course after only two years of marriage.
Through the years Ann and I have been strengthened and encouraged by Nancy’s unyielding and unfailing faith and joy perhaps more than by any other person. That doesn’t mean she hasn’t struggled with bitterness and anger and confusion. On several occasions she has called me, screaming and crying out over the phone in anguish over her daughters, wondering why she could never have a normal family life, wondering why three of her children had to die so young and why she may never have a relationship with another.
But Nancy knew something Peter and Paul both knew: that it’s only for a “little while.” The anticipation of heavenly glory has kept her going. She also embraced the design of her God in her suffering, longing to have her faith refined, to see the rough edges pared off, to experience a deeper and ever more vibrant trust in God without all the artificial props on which we so often depend.
When Jesus appears in glory, two things are going to happen. First, his glory will be magnificently reflected in the mirror of our faith. He will be the trusted one and the hoped-for one and the rejoiced-in one. So his glory will shine in our faith and hope and joy. And the more pure and refined the gold of our faith, the more clearly his beauty and worth will be reflected.
But, second, since God exalts all that exalts him, he will give praise and honor and glory to our faith. He will say, "Well done, good and faithful servant." He will give us (as Peter says in 5:4) "the unfading crown of glory" (cf. 1 Corinthians 4:5).
Having said all this, perhaps even more important is the fact that suffering provides a platform on which the majesty and glory of God is most clearly revealed.
If someone should see me singing, with lifted hands, during a time of remarkable financial prosperity, he may or may not think much of the God whom I worship.
If someone should take notice of my trust in God during a season of physical health and personal comfort, he may or may not think much of the God whom I serve.
If someone should hear me speak or preach about the gospel of Jesus Christ in a place of safety and comfort and protection, he may or may not think much of the God whose message I proclaim.
But if someone should see me singing or take note of my faith or hear me speak in a season of intense suffering, while experiencing severe physical anguish, under the pressure of financial strain, or when it puts me at risk of being persecuted, beaten, jailed, and perhaps even martyred, I assure you they will think much of my God; they will marvel at a God who can inspire such joy in the midst of such pain; they will pause and wonder and shake their heads in amazement at a God who is seen to be worthy of worship and of such immeasurable glory and honor that he can win the affection and adoration of people who have not been overtly blessed with health and convenience and the praise of mankind.
Loss and hard times and difficult circumstances, when joyfully accepted for the sake of the kingdom of God, show the supremacy of God’s worth more clearly in the world than all worship and prayer. God ordains suffering because more than any other human experience it displays to the world the supremacy of his worth above all treasures.
In telling you the story of Joni, what ought to amaze you most isn’t Joni, but her God. What kind of God is this who can inspire such freedom and joy in one who, from a human point of view, would appear to have every reason to hate him? What kind of God is this who can evoke such confidence and trust in a person who is so horribly disabled? What kind of God is this who has the qualities and characteristics and attributes and beauty and glory that he can be found worthy of the praise and gratitude and delight of a woman who’s spent the last 42 years in a wheelchair? Wow! Now that’s some God!