One of the sayings attributed to Buddha and others is, “Life is suffering.” Jesus put his own spin on that universal truth when he asserted, “It rains on the just and the unjust.”
No one escapes this life without having to endure some kind of pain. For many, the pain is physical, perhaps the result of an injury, surgery or the simple deterioration of the body. Nowadays many suffer from some sort of psychic pain, haunted by the persistent memory of trauma. Something triggers the memory, and it’s as if we’re reliving it right then and there.
Unhealthy loneliness generated by the lack of genuine community and enduring friendships plagues many. And of course, there’s the pain brought on by loss of a loved one, a job or some physical capacity. Such losses frequently open wounds that refuse to heal on our timetable.
Grief afflicts us all and comes in all shapes and sizes. Given the universality of pain and suffering, we preach every Sunday to people who are in some sort of distress. This reality requires that we take a careful and sensitive approach as we preach to the wounded. To that end, I offer the following suggestions.
First, acknowledge it. Pain is compounded and intensified when no one notices it. Hurting people often feel invisible in a culture which emphasizes being on top of one’s game, a culture in which success is the highest value.
“Pain is compounded and intensified when no one notices it.”
Hearing a word from the pulpit about the reality of pain can be comforting in and of itself. “Someone sees me and takes me seriously!”
When we speak to pain, we actively undermine the false assumption, “I’m the only one who is experiencing this.”
Nevertheless, a word of caution is necessary. I think it best to avoid too many specifics when addressing the pain others experience lest someone feel singled out.
On some occasions, it is appropriate for us to weave the story of our pain into a sermon. When we take this approach, we must search our motives in the quiet of the study before we step into the pulpit. We ministers are very human, and it’s tempting to use our preaching to work out our own stuff in front of others.
At our worst we use our struggles as a way of gaining validation. In that light, the best question we can ask ourselves is, “Whose needs are being met here?” We also can fall into the trap of creating a “happy ending” in which we are the heroes of our own stories.
Intentionally or unintentionally, we make our experience normative for others, forgetting that God’s work with us is not “one size fits all.”
At our best, however, offering our own testimony in a sermon builds a bridge to another’s pain. Our story often validates another’s experience and once again assures them they are not alone in their troubles.
A third note. Let us resist the temptation to “overpromise.”
Despite our role as spiritual guides, we don’t know everything. Thus, our proclamation should be “humbly bold.” By that, I mean we avoid letting the words “always” and “never” creep into our sermons without some thoughtful reflection.
When we proclaim, “This is what God’s going to do!” or “This is how God works!” we rightly wish to stress God’s faithfulness. We are forging a connection between ourselves and our forebears in faith. Let us remember, however, God doesn’t always work the same way twice and certainly doesn’t operate on our timetable.
“God doesn’t always work the same way twice and certainly doesn’t operate on our timetable.”
If we sow the seeds of great expectations, the people we’re trying to help may suffer more when God doesn’t come through as we promised or as we think God should. I think it’s better for our messages to radiate compassion and understanding rather than offering up a roadmap of what’s next.
When we overpromise and pain persists, we may make matters worse by implying the problem is a lack of faith. As a result, we foster the cruel assumption that their struggle is their fault.
Finally, let us dig into the experiences of those who walked the path of suffering as recorded in Scripture. The Bible does not speak with one voice about pain or the promise of healing.
In this respect, the Psalms come to mind. The psalmist may offer high praise in one instance and then speak poignantly of God’s absence. The book of Job tackles the question of unjust suffering. Although we take great comfort in the fact that healing was a key component of Jesus’ ministry, he didn’t heal everybody. In fact, on some occasions, he was downright reluctant to heal.
Scripture faithfully records the experiences of many who endure pain, and their experiences may indeed resonate with ours. When we put those different voices front and center, we cast a wide net and stand a better chance of effectively preaching to pain.
Bill Ireland is a former pastor who works as a certified leadership coach through Pinnacle Associates. He lives in Knoxville, Tenn.
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