Revisiting Suffering and Its Purpose, and the Bittersweet Hereafter

This is the companion to my most recent post which focused on the now late Zoraya Ter Beek’s suicide, coping with adversity, and overcoming the urge to give up, among other things.

One of the most difficult tasks any of us ever will have, or have had to undertake is making the decision to put down a beloved elderly family pet, and then follow through. We do it, though, because it’s the humane thing to do – especially when we know that our dog or cat is in pain, has lost control of its bodily functions, and just doesn’t really have any quality of life, anymore.

It begs the question: How is it that we can be so humane to an animal, yet cannot – do not – will not extend the same courtesy to our own loved ones, especially when their quality of life is no less bleak?

One obvious answer is that our pets are not people, but animals – despite how we may interact with them. 

From our perspective, there is no benefit to us or the beloved pet continuing to suffer.

For we humans, however, suffering is a much different prospect. Despite the fact that we ultimately come to accept that it may indeed be our fate, many of us see no point to our own misery, let alone that of another – be it a parent, a sibling, and certainly not one of our own children. 

Beyond that, though, is the truth that there is not one among us who wouldn’t escape such hardship, if we could. For the one standing by as a beloved is enduring such an ordeal, to express the sentiment that you would trade places with him or her if only it were possible is noble, but likely not entirely true, even if sincere. 

The only account of a single individual suffering on behalf of others (everyone, to be specific), is found in each of the four gospels written by the apostles Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John: Jesus Christ’s crucifixion and physical death on the cross; His being temporarily forsaken,¹ and His resurrection and restoration as the Son of God that spares all mankind the interminable suffering and torment we each deserve because of our sin.

Yet, even Jesus would have preferred not to have had to endure the humiliation, anguish, and torture. In what is undoubtedly his most relatable and human moment, he begs as much of God – three times!²

In discussing the agony and torment that often accompany it, let’s acknowledge a most uncomfortable truth about the matter:

Suffering is a lonely ordeal, and we endure it alone.

Yes, there may be others in physical proximity, perhaps even in contact (holding one’s hand, embracing and holding one close), but the questioning, the feeling of spiritual abandonment, the inability to comprehend what possible purpose is being served, is private.

Sharing it with others is likely to bring a tidal wave of simple, trite, platitudes that have all the depth of a wading pool along with any number of scriptures (many from the Book of Job, in particular), and exhortations to focus on the positive – so much so that one might just as well have preferred to have remained silent.

Undoubtedly, among those hackneyed, stale, and saccharine sentiments will be that suffering is part of God’s plan, that it is His will. If someone truly believes this, then I have no sympathy for them should they end up being brained by the intended recipient – but what’s more, they are missing the point – of faith, and of the tribulations that may accompany it.

To suffer a long, slow, and painful death is not God’s will. It was not God’s will that someone’s child was taken from them by a violent psychopath. It was not God’s will that young wife and her children were robbed of a husband and father by a drug addict robbing that convenience store. Not only are incidents like these not God’s will, He does not allow them to occur for his own glory.

The glibly offered justification of suffering of any kind being for God’s glory is so grossly misunderstood as to be almost criminal. On its face, it reduces the Creator of Heaven and Earth to a seemingly petty deity. A closer examination, however, reveals that it simply bears out the promise that:

…in all things, God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.
–Romans 8:28

No, bad things happen in this world because evil exists.³ God is not a malevolent deity – rather, He provides comfort to the suffering, and uses tragic events that befall the undeserving for the benefit of those enduring the pain and agony of the evil that has been visited upon them.

Yet, we offer our clichéd aphorisms in an effort to be of comfort to someone so distressed because bearing witness to the pain and agony (physical, or mental) of another makes us feel most ill at ease – hence, it is as much for our own benefit as we want it to be for them.

This is not all bad, though – what might it indicate if we become so inured to the affliction of others that it becomes just another mundane task to which we must attend? It’s that detachment that enables a surgeon to do his job without emotion to cloud his judgement, after all; but not useful if we seek to empathetically share another’s hardship.

Would it be better to be so sensitive, so perceptive, as to know just how we could meet the need of the one enduring the ordeal? Without question, but most of us will never be thus – nor should we hope to be. Why? Because like anything else, that takes practice. Who wants to lose so many loved ones?

Coward that I am, I would prefer to not experience any pain and agony. Were I ever to be diagnosed with cancer, my inclination is to deny all treatment, period. The chemo, the radiation – it’s all so costly, and it means spending more time in hospitals, treatment centers, and feeling lousy more frequently than feeling well that before I know it, there’s no quality of life – but that’s my preference, not taking into account any other considerations (this is only occasionally a topic of discussion with my wife).

Just in case I haven’t adequately illustrated my point, the following might succeed where I may have failed:

This film was prescient twenty-seven years ago – how much more so, now?

Regarding what may or may not be in store for me, as an extension of my faith and perhaps as evidence of it – mine is that if I am to endure the torment of physical pain, it is for a much greater, a much higher purpose: that through my suffering, someone may come to know Christ as Lord and Saviour, as I have. In that way, it will have been an integral part of the culmination of someone else’s faith journey, per the apostle Paul’s admonition:

I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us.
–Romans 8:18

My hope is that when it is my time, I go in the same fashion as my dad: one moment, he’s alive – preparing (with my mom), to host friends for dinner – the next, someone has turned out the lights, and he’s dead before he hits the ground – making for a much more subdued rest of the evening.

Let’s be clear, though, about what is being discussed, here: suffering, not sacrifice – though one may beget the other, it is the enduring of pain, misery, and agony of suffering either due to recovering from serious injury, that which is associated with terminal illness toward the end of one’s life, or a mental disorder that cruelly affords the afflicted the self awareness to know its physiology, and the impact of same on the psyche of the one so afflicted, that is the topic of this essay.

Regardless of the circumstances, the truth is that what we say to comfort those who are suffering matters so little in comparison to what we do.

The same holds true for a loved one in the grasp of incomprehensible sorrow, frequently in the wake of having been witness to both the suffering, and then the passing of a loved one. If you have ever been in that position, you already know the struggle of those who remain as survivors.

Despite the relief that comes with knowing that the pain of the loved one’s ordeal is over, and the burden of ministering to him or her is lifted from your shoulders, you will grieve the loss. Part of the non-linear grieving process is that you’ll wonder what you might have done or said differently – perhaps going back decades. Know that doing so serves no purpose other than to force resolution of the issue in your own mind.

Toward that end, ask the questions, answer them honestly, accept the truth (perhaps unpleasant), and then leave them in the past because there is nothing to be changed, now – which brings me to Ms. Ter Beek’s survivors. 

Not to pass judgement on any of them personally, but I cannot help but wonder if her parents are at peace with the fact that they allowed state-sponsored medical and mental-health professionals to facilitate the suicide of their own daughter. Are they at peace with the fact that they were not so alarmed that they were content to cede their daughter’s welfare to the management of others? Will it occur to them that nothing about how they responded to her desire to die – as a child, no less – was okay, or even remotely normal?

Similarly, is her boyfriend at peace with so willingly allowing the woman who was allegedly the love of his life take her own? Will he not curse himself for not wanting to do more to share her burdens, not helping to mitigate (even a little) the adversity brought on by the autism, the depression, and the borderline personality disorder?

None of those three are to be envied because when there are no more distractions, nothing left that demands attention, when it is only themselves with their own thoughts, their consciences will mercilessly accuse them of so much worse than that suggested above. The accusations will be so much more heinous than anyone can imagine.

If they are not honest with themselves, such self-accusation can quickly become self-condemnation, which will only result in guilt. If not dealt with, the guilt is compounded and becomes unbearable to the point that each may conclude the only way for their pain to end is for them to each take their own lives. Such an end would be truly tragic, and would only leave others in pain and anguish, thus continuing a most destructive cycle.

For that reason, my hope is that there are those in their lives who are able to show them that forgiveness is not only possible, it is necessary for their own well-being.

The forgiveness of our lord Jesus Christ is the only antidote for the crippling, potentially life-threatening guilt of self-condemnation. Without it, each runs the risk of losing hope, just like Zoraya did. With no hope, there is no opportunity to receive the gift of our lord’s forgiveness.

They need to know that they – that none of us – are ever beyond redemption, no matter what we’ve done. 

Consider Simon Peter (aka Peter), who had been with Jesus since the beginning of His ministry. Despite what he had seen, heard, and experienced as one of the twelve, when push came to shove he denied that he ever knew Jesus, his best friend. He denies that he was ever one of the twelve – he completely disowns Him. At this moment, he’s no better than Judas, whose guilt drove him to suicide – but Peter flees, instead.

Truth be told, Peter was only typical of each one of Jesus’ disciples during His ministry, and in the days immediately following His death on the cross. To a man, they were cowards – at best.

Despite what they had been told, the eleven of them, seemingly at loose ends and having no clue what they are to do, or what comes next, have gone back to being fishermen. Ridden with guilt (none of them dare ask out loud, “So, what do we do now?”), Peter announces he’s going fishing. He has to do something - he needs a distraction.

Back on shore, having received the blessing of a catch of fish they can’t even haul into the boat (the distraction didn’t work), Jesus specifically asks Peter three questions (three denials) and in so doing, he demonstrates that Peter has been forgiven.

[I really wish that there was a decent cinematic portrayal of Jesus restoring Peter to fellowship with him – but there isn’t, and I refuse to include any in which every character in the middle east anno domini speaks with an English accent.] This is the best I can do:

The same forgiveness made available to Peter, is available to to Mr. and Mrs. Ter Beek. It is available to Zoraya’s boyfriend, and it is available to us.

It is my hope (there it is, again) Zoraya Ter Beek’s survivors can find the forgiveness they so desperately need when they come to that realization. 

Thank you, dear reader, for your indulgence.

Until next time…

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Addendum
Per Dear Reader John, whose most thoughtful, eloquent, and dare I say, insightful feedback in the Comments section points out, my not taking into account the passing of her father only a year ago, and the estrangement from her mother indicated a failure on my part to be sufficiently thorough in my reading and research. Hence, my treatment of them might have reflected a sensitivity and understanding that is clearly absent.

From the article:

When she turned 18, she moved out of her childhood home to live with her boyfriend, Stein. He was ten years older than her, and her parents didn’t approve of the age difference. When I first contacted her, Zoraya had been estranged from her mother and three older sisters for six years. Her father died last year from cancer. 

Dear Reader John’s opinion of me notwithstanding, the record deserves to be set straight.

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1. https://www.gotquestions.org/did-Jesus-go-to-hell.html

“In the Hebrew Scriptures, the word used to describe the realm of the dead is sheol. It simply means ‘the place of the dead’ or ‘the place of departed souls/spirits.’ The New Testament Greek equivalent of sheol is hades, which also refers to ‘the place of the dead.’ The New Testament indicates that sheol/hades is a temporary place, where souls are kept as they await the final resurrection and judgment. Revelation 20:11–15 makes a clear distinction between hades and the lake of fire. The lake of fire is the permanent and final place of judgment for the lost. Hades, then, is a temporary place. Many people refer to both hades and the lake of fire as ‘hell,’ and this causes confusion. Jesus did not go to a place of torment after His death, but He did go to hades.

God, the Creator, cannot tolerate or abide sin in his presence, and Jesus taking on all of it that had occurred already, and all that would occur, was such that God could not help but look away. However, with His son’s death all sin died with him, and after awaiting in hades his resurrection, was raised from the dead and restored to His rightful place as God’s own son, seated on His throne at God’s right hand in Heaven.”

2. https://www.bible.com/bible/111/MAT.26.36-44

“Then Jesus went with his disciples to a place called Gethsemane, and he said to them, ‘Sit here while I go over there and pray.’ He took Peter and the two sons of Zebedee along with him, and he began to be sorrowful and troubled. Then he said to them, ‘My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death. Stay here and keep watch with me.’

Going a little farther, he fell with his face to the ground and prayed, ‘My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will.’

Then he returned to his disciples and found them sleeping. ‘Couldn’t you men keep watch with me for one hour?’ he asked Peter. ‘Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.’

He went away a second time and prayed, ‘My Father, if it is not possible for this cup to be taken away unless I drink it, may your will be done.’

When he came back, he again found them sleeping, because their eyes were heavy. So he left them and went away once more and prayed the third time, saying the same thing.”
–Matthew 26:36-44

3. It is recommended that you read, The Problem of Pain, by C.S. Lewis, for a much better explanation than I could ever offer, here.