Pain - God's Megaphone

By: Duane Kelderman

Scripture Reading: Psalm 119:65-72

September 27th, 2009

Years ago a parishioner in a church I was serving then was suffering severe pain because of kidney stones. The doctors monitored her situation for a week before they finally decided to go in and get those kidney stones. After her surgery, her husband called me and told me that his wife, about 50 at the time, had given birth to twins——Rocky and Sandy. Now I have never had kidney stones. But I understand that the pain associated with kidney stones is some of the worst of physical pain. At first thought, it might seem great if there wasn’t such a thing as kidney stones or if kidney stones just didn’t hurt. But we don’t have to think about it very long to realize that kidney stone pain is a constructive pain. Without the pain, we’d have no knowledge that something is wrong in our bodies and something has got to be done about that. One of the functions of pain in our world can be as God’s megaphone, God’s way of shouting to us and getting our attention. C.S. Lewis speaks of pain as God’s megaphone. The image is helpful for seeing how God can use something that is bad and the result of evil in our world to teach us things about our world and ourselves that probably we would learn in no other way. The Psalmist says in verse 67,
“Before I was afflicted, I went astray; but now I obey your word. You are good and what you do is good; teach me your decrees.”
And then again in verse 71 he says,
“It was good for me to be afflicted so that I might learn your decrees.”
He is saying his affliction was the megaphone of God what it took for God to get his attention so that he could
“obey the word” of God (v. 67) or “learn your decrees” (v. 71).
In another place, C. S. Lewis says that pain is the “rumor of transcendence.” It is the rumor in our world, amidst all the conflicting stories of how
“this is all there is” or “you only live once,” . . . it is the rumor of transcendence, the rumor of God, the rumor that there must be more, and we must align ourselves with the laws of the universe and of the one who rules the universe.
I think it was C.S. Lewis who also said, “Pain plants the flag of truth within a rebel fortress.” It shouts out, not all is well. We need to listen to that pain and seek to learn from it. Now I hesitate to preach on this passage and this function of pain and suffering because it is so easily misunderstood. On a regular basis people will come to me in a situation of pain and suffering and say, “I’m really trying to figure out what God is trying to teach me through this.” I usually cringe a little bit at that point because I think there’s a subtle but important difference between saying, for example,
“God can work through the pain (the evil, if you will) of my kidney stones to teach me something (like patience, dependence).” and saying “God gave me kidney stones to teach me something.” I think we get kidney stones because we live in a broken world where things go haywire.
And a doctor can probably explain that in biological terms. Don’t drag God into that, at least not at the question of cause. But it is fine to ask, “What can I learn about life from this?” (But notice then we’re into that second category of “my response” that we talked about last time——forward looking, figuring out how to live creatively with our pain. In that sense we can ask what God is trying to teach us.) You may say, what’s the big difference here? Well, I think that second way of saying it more accurately leaves open the question of God’s exact relationship to evil. And it certainly feels very different to the sufferer. It’s one thing to say to someone who is in a bad marriage,
“You need to be open to how God can teach you even in and through this broken situation how to live with grace.”
It’s another thing to say, “God put you in this bad relationship to teach you some things.” The latter probably isn’t true; it certainly isn’t helpful. Having made that distinction (between what God actively causes and what God allows and can work through), I do want to go on to positively make the point that the Bible makes, that pain can be God’s megaphone, his way to use evil things that come our way (not that he necessarily zapped us with, but that are the natural unfolding of things in an evil world). . . his way to use evil things that come our way to teach us his word, his decrees, what is good and true and right, and to help us to live more creatively, more the way God made us to live. Think about the financial collapse in our world right now. None of us like losing 40% of our assets between losses in the stock market and in real estate values. You have heard as many stories as I have about people who played by the rules, worked hard all their lives, saved all their lives, and now, as they anticipate retirement soon, have lost a substantial part of what they have worked so hard for. But think about what we have learned in the past two years, what God in his severe mercy has shouted to us: 1. We have learned the value of your life is not measured in your asset sheet—it wasn’t before the market crash or after the market crash. 2. We have learned our security in life is not financial. Anyone who believes that hasn’t been paying attention. God is our refuge and strength, an ever present help in trouble. 3. We have learned that the biggest factor in people’s happiness, people’s well—being is the quality of their relationships, not the size of their bank accounts. A recent survey of retirees finds that retirees who are healthy, are in a nest of positive relationships, and have purpose in their lives (often found in some kind of work or service—whether paid or unpaid) are the happiest retirees there are. 4. In the last year some people—by no means everyone—have learned hard lessons about the trap of greed, the idolatry of trusting in money, and the prideful illusion that things were going so well because I was so smart. In all these ways, and so many more, God shouts through the megaphone of a financial crisis: I am your refuge and strength. Put your trust in me. Don’t labor and toil so hard for the bread that does not satisfy; come, buy wine and milk and bread without price (Is. 55). Come to me and be filled—forever. God didn’t “cause” the financial crisis of 2008. I think it’s safe to say it was caused by a combination of greed, consumerism, incompetence, laziness, and genuine ignorance about how a global economy really works. But God can sovereignly, redemptively, creatively work through all of this as we now suffer, individually and collectively, and bring us to higher ground, to him. At that point, pain is God’s megaphone.
“Before I was afflicted, I went astray; but now I obey your word. You are good and what you do is good; teach me your decrees.”
The fact is we live in a culture that is so pain—fleeing, so anti—pain, that we (and Christians are part of this) . . . we refuse to acknowledge this constructive role of pain. We’re always apologetic for pain. (Just look how much time I’ve spent today qualifying my statements!) Paul Brand says that in the west (the U.S., for example, as opposed to India), we just want to end the pain without ever considering what message it might be sending, like disconnecting a ringing fire alarm to avoid receiving bad news. Now Brand talks about this primarily in terms of physical pain. We live in a culture where there is a pill for everything. Americans, he points out, represent 5% of the world’s population but consume 50% of the world’s manufactured drugs. But I think the point applies to pain in general. We must look for ways to listen to our pain, to leverage our pain, to make even our pain something that can teach us more about living life in God’s world with grace and wonder. It’s interesting. As Brand has travelled around the world he has observed that the more a society comes up with ways to limit suffering (from aspirin to air—conditioning to accutane), the more it loses its ability to cope with what suffering remains. He points out that it’s the philosophers, theologians and writers of the affluent West, not the Third World, who worry obsessively about “the problem of pain and suffering,” and either too quickly point an accusing finger at God or too quickly try to take God off the hook. He says, “I see more pain, but less fear of pain and suffering, in India than I have seen in the West.” Pain can have a constructive role in our lives. It can be God’s megaphone. Fortunately for us who know God through Jesus Christ, the good news today is that we need not live with just “random shouts” or “unconfirmed rumors.” We have God’s Word as the full statement of truth to which God calls us, and we have Jesus Christ as the truth come in the flesh. God, through the megaphone of pain, calls us not just to the truth, but to himself. God doesn’t just want our attention; he wants us. In Romans 5, Paul talks about this great peace with God we have through our Lord Jesus Christ. And we rejoice because of the hope that peace gives us—our hope of the glory of God. But then he goes on,
“Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us.”
Last year I had an experience in a course I teach that I will never forget and that underscores Paul’s point that our suffering has the potential to deepen our hope and our experience of union with Christ. For years I have co—taught a course at the seminary where I work entitled “Sustaining Pastoral Excellence.” Just one of the great things about this course is the mix of seminary students and experienced pastors in the course. It’s wonderful to watch seminarians listen to pastors—faithful, often battle—worn, but usually grateful, hope—filled pastors—bear witness to what sustains them in ministry. Last year Pastor Walt was part of our course. Walt had been a pastor for several years, but had just taken a two year leave of absence. The challenges of ministry and life had overwhelmed him to a point where he had to take a time—out. You can imagine, actually, you can’t imagine, how painful this chapter was in Walt’s life, not to mention in Walt’s wife’s and children’s lives. There is no “failure” more public than having to step down from ministry. He was taking this course at the end of a two year leave from ministry and was on the verge of going back into a congregation. Throughout the course, when Walt spoke, students, and all of us, listened. In the words of Isaiah 43, Walt had been through the deep waters, and they had nearly overwhelmed him. He had been through the fire, and it had nearly consumed him. He had had to learn deep things about himself, about God’s grace, about life. But here he was now, on the verge of going back for more. Why? Why would anyone in their right mind go back for more of the stress and suffering he had endured in his career as a minister? On the last day of the course, Walt shared with us, in his quiet, steady voice, hat one of verses that had meant the most to him in these last years was Philippians 3:10, where Paul cries out, “I want to know Christ!” But Walt quickly pointed out how that verse continues:
“I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, to attain to the resurrection from the dead.”
He went on to explain that he had never really understood what it meant to “share in Christ’s suffering” or “be united with Christ in his death” . . . until these last two years. He explained how the last two years had given him an experience of union with Christ in his suffering and in his resurrection that changed his life. He spoke of a new—found peace, a purpose, a freedom, a joy, a depth of compassion for others, and above all, a sense of mystical union with Christ that simply could not be gotten in any other way. He stunned everyone in the room, and especially the seminary students, with his last words to us,
“If I could choose whether to go through the pain of the past two years again, and receive what I have received, or to avoid the pain of the last two years, I would have to say it’s been worth it. I would do it again.”
The psalmist says,
“It was good for me that I was afflicted, that I might learn your decrees.”
May all of life be God’s megaphone, God’s teacher. May God salvage even our deepest pain to make us, in the words of James, mature and complete, lacking in nothing.

About the Author

Duane Kelderman

Rev. Duane Kelderman is the Vice President for Administration and an Associate Professor of Preaching at Calvin Seminary in Grand Rapids. Before his current position he served as pastor in Christian Reformed congregations in Toledo, Ohio; Denver, Colorado; and Grand Rapids, Michigan. Rev. Kelderman is married to Jeannette and has three children and two grandchildren. He was born and raised in Oskaloosa, Iowa and attended Calvin College and Calvin Seminary. He enjoys reading and carpentry.

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