Biola University
At age 45, Dr. Liz Hall received news that no one wants to hear: She had cancer.
In the painful year that followed, she endured surgeries, treatments, physical suffering and emotional upheaval — while also encountering God’s redemptive work in new ways and discovering a fresh direction for her research as a psychology professor at Biola’s Rosemead School of Psychology.
That experience and research have now shaped When the Journey Hurts: Finding Meaning in Suffering for Heart, Mind, and Soul — one of two important new books from Biola professors on the place of suffering in the Christian life. Co-authored with theology professor Jason McMartin and Kelly M. Kapic, When the Journey Hurts draws upon biblical wisdom and original studies involving survivors of cancer and other difficult life events to explore how God can bring meaning to our pain.
Complementing this perspective is God’s Purposes in Our Pain: 10 Ways God Uses Suffering for Our Good, by New Testament professor Kenneth Berding and Keith Krell. Motivated in part by his own journey with chronic pain, Berding looks closely at 2 Corinthians, finding encouragement in the apostle Paul’s experience of divine purpose within suffering.
Biola Magazine recently connected with Berding, Hall and McMartin to explore some of the ways God can redeem pain for his good purposes, what not to say to someone who is suffering, and the spiritual practices that can anchor Christians in seasons of hardship.
Can you each share about the origins of your books? What led you to study and research the role of suffering in the Christian life?
Hall: When the Journey Hurts grew out of both personal experience and professional frustration. When I was diagnosed with stage 2 breast cancer at 45, I found myself entirely unprepared, even though I was a clinical psychologist, I’d been a Christian my whole life, read my Bible regularly and taught adult Sunday School. You might think that of all people, I would be equipped to face these circumstances! I started working through every Christian book on suffering I could find. Some were deeply depressing, as they told the stories of people who had gone through circumstances much worse than mine with shining colors, then usually died; my “mere” stage 2 cancer seemed trivial in comparison. Some contained theology I found troubling, like one book that claimed all Christians were guaranteed healing. Most felt irrelevant to what I actually needed. They kept circling around why God allows suffering, which wasn’t what I was wrestling with. What I desperately needed was practical, theologically grounded guidance for how to get through the difficult year of treatment that I was facing. That experience prompted me to turn my own research in that direction, with the goal of making the kind of support I needed a low-hanging fruit for other Christians going through difficult life circumstances.
Berding: I never wanted to write a book on suffering. (What? Invite more suffering into my life by writing a book on it?) But two connected events persuaded me that I needed to write about suffering — not in general, but this particular book. First, I was diagnosed with a painful medical condition. Unless God heals me — which I know he can — this condition is predicted to last for the rest of my life. Second, I was writing an academic book [Paul’s Thorn in the Flesh: New Clues for an Old Problem] when I started to notice a pattern in Paul’s Second Letter to the Corinthians which, as far as I knew, had never been explored. I shared this insight with my friend, Keith Krell, a scholar-pastor and fellow-sharer in suffering, and we decided that this book needed to be written. If I could have avoided writing about suffering, I would have avoided it, for sure!
Jason, what’s the difference between asking why God allows suffering — which your research indicates isn’t actually all that helpful for people in the midst of difficult seasons — and looking for God’s purpose in suffering?
McMartin: Liz mentioned that many of the books she read during her cancer treatment wrestled with why God allows suffering. Theologians often call that question theodicy. Most of the Christians we interviewed who were dealing with cancer were not asking where their difficulty came from, but wanted to know what to do with it. Focusing on what God is doing in the midst of our suffering orients us to hopeful anticipation of God’s redemptive work in our lives, here and in new heavens and new earth. God works redemptively in our pain. But the good things that come from our hurts are not the reason why we have them. God might bring good from our suffering by drawing us closer, growing us, or giving us new places of service. If we confuse causes and purposes, we might conclude that terrible things happen so that God will heal, which isn’t too far from saying that God is the author of evil.
Ken, why is shifting our focus from “why did this happen?” to “for what purpose?” so transformative for a suffering Christian?
Berding: Shifting from causes to purposes reflects the Bible’s own emphases. With one exception (sinful rebellion that leads to divine judgment), the Bible rarely focuses upon past causes of present suffering. But it occasionally draws our attention to forward-looking purposes. Keith and I scoured the whole Bible and collected as many forward-looking purposes as we could locate and listed them in an appendix. But the primary focus of our book was on 2 Corinthians since that letter is the only biblical book that repeatedly — as a pattern — draws our attention to potential purposes for God allowing suffering into the lives of his children. In fact, there are enough of such divine purpose statements in 2 Corinthians that Keith and I came to believe that one of the things Paul wanted the Corinthians to get from his letter was the knowledge that God has good purposes for suffering — with Paul’s own cache of suffering the main object lesson.
Scripture offers several ways that God can use our suffering for his good purposes. Can you share about a few of those?
McMartin: The main thing is the main thing: In suffering, just as in the entirety of our lives, God wants us to draw nearer to him. Difficulty provides a unique opportunity to seek the Lord. When we’re weak, we can experience God’s strength, power and presence more deeply (2 Cor. 12:9–10). God grows courage, patience, humility and compassion in us (Rom. 5:3–4). We share the comfort we have received from God with others (2 Cor. 1:3–7). We testify to God’s faithfulness through trials and spiritual opposition (Phil. 1:12–14). Our relationship with Jesus grows as our own hardship helps us understand the suffering he experienced (Phil. 3:10; Rom. 8:17).
Berding: Second Corinthians presents a penetrating catalog of ways God uses suffering in the lives of his children. Suffering can deepen our trust in God — the God who raises the dead. Moreover, as we go through life in weak bodies — “jars of clay” as Paul describes our bodies — God displays his power through us. Suffering can also help us see our need for repentance when repentance is needed. During times of suffering we learn to rely upon other believers. We increase in humility and let go of pride. In our pain, we learn that God’s grace is sufficient and that his strength is perfected in us through weakness. And God prepares us through our own suffering to minister to others when they suffer.
Liz, you write that many people report “startling experiences of God’s love” as a result of their suffering. How can suffering create the conditions for us to experience God’s love more fully?
Hall: The counterintuitive finding that runs throughout our research is that suffering can function as a kind of shortcut to intimacy with God; we saw this across our participant groups. Jason talked earlier about the widespread assumption that people doubt God when they encounter suffering, and how the response is then to offer theodicy. In one of our qualitative studies with cancer survivors in a large evangelical church, we actually found the opposite: that most people reported experiencing God as more loving and present, and more in control of their circumstances, than before the cancer diagnosis.
Why does this happen? A few reasons. Suffering strips away the noise and makes us present to a God who has always been present to us. Brother Lawrence wrote that God is “more effectually present” to us in sickness than in health, not because God has moved, but because we have. Suffering also causes us to pour out our hearts in very raw, unguarded ways, which creates the conditions for genuine closeness to God. And suffering brings us to the end of ourselves, which is precisely when we turn most fully to the one who actually is in control. In that surrender, something opens up.
How have you seen God at work in your own personal experiences of suffering?
Berding: There are many ways God has used suffering in my life — more than I would have wanted him to! Some of these overlap significantly with what Keith and I gained from studying the topic of suffering in 2 Corinthians. I have discovered solidarity with other Christians who have suffered in ways similar (and sometimes dissimilar) to my own sufferings, which is one of God’s purposes found in 2 Corinthians. I’ve begun to experience, in the smallest of ways, the truth that God’s power is perfected in weakness. Suffering has humbled me, another truth underlined in 2 Corinthians. Not that I’m humble — far from it — but there is no better teacher of humility than suffering. Suffering has also caused me to long for my future resurrected body and the eternal weight of glory that God has prepared for me. These truths have been my constant companions for the past few years while studying this topic and writing this book.
Hall: My year of cancer treatment was hard, involving multiple surgeries, months of chemotherapy, the anti-nausea medication keeping me awake for days at a time, and underneath it all the recurring fear of leaving my teenage sons without a mother. But God was faithful in doing his redeeming work throughout that year. I think perhaps I emerged with some of the changes one might expect: a little more patience and compassion, for example. One change I didn’t expect was a different relationship to suffering itself, both my own and that of others. I used to have that sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that came with anything threatening. I almost never experience that anymore. Having faced suffering and experienced God in the midst of it, the fear of it shifted. This allows me to be more present with people who are suffering. And my research focus has shifted, coming directly out of what I needed to know when I was going through my own suffering. I felt clearly that part of God’s purpose in that year was to redirect my work. The book is, in some ways, an answer to the question I was asking from my cancer diagnosis: What do I do with this?
Liz and Jason, in your in-depth interviews with Christian cancer survivors and surveys of people who have faced various forms of suffering, what are some of the findings that stood out to you?
Hall: Several things stood out. One was the centrality of purpose. In our interviews with cancer survivors, what people cared about most was not whether God had caused their cancer, but whether their suffering was going to be redeemed, whether it was going to mean something.
Another finding that showed up pervasively was the role of intellectual humility as a protective factor. In one of our studies we divided cancer survivors into those who showed spiritual struggle and those who didn’t, and looked for differences. What we found was that the people who said, essentially, “I don’t know why I have cancer, but God does,” who held their uncertainty with openness rather than needing a definitive answer, showed less distress.
And the experiences of intimacy with God during suffering were common and profound. Across very different populations, we kept hearing versions of the same thing: that in the darkness, something happened in their relationship with God that didn’t happen when things were fine.
Anyone who has endured suffering has likely encountered some well-intentioned but unhelpful advice and clichés. What are some of the wrong things to say to someone who’s experiencing pain and suffering?
Berding: There are many unhelpful things to say to someone who’s suffering. “I know how you feel.” “It could be worse.” “Just buck up.” “It’s time to move on.” Even “everything happens for a reason” is usually not a helpful thing to say, not because God doesn’t intend thousands of reasons for permitting our suffering (which he probably does), but because your hurting friend likely isn’t asking the why question. Moreover, such throw-off comments can shut down further conversation. Of course, if a friend is gen-uinely struggling with the why question, at the right time and with the right tone you can guide them toward the general principles found in 2 Corinthians. Truth be told, opening your mouth to say very much of anything to someone living through acute suffering will often be perceived as uncaring, so keep that in mind. Your loving presence is frequently better received than your well-intentioned words. Your friend needs to know that you care even more than they need your suggestions — unless they have asked for advice, at which time you still need to speak wisely and sensitively.
McMartin: At first, saying most anything is wrong! Job’s friends did the right thing when they sat with him for seven days in silence (Job 2:11–13). It’s not our words that make the greatest difference, but our presence and God’s presence. We need to share each other’s burdens (Gal. 6:2; Rom. 12:15). Our well-intentioned words of comfort or advice can end up throwing the heavy load back to the person who was already carrying it.
Hall: Jason is right that presence matters more than words. I’d add that our research points to some specific patterns that consistently backfire. Citing Romans 8:28, “God works all things together for good,” in a way that essentially asks the suffering person to immediately locate the silver lining often lands poorly. The message becomes: Stop feeling what you’re feeling and find the upside. What people in the trenches usually need isn’t an explanation or a reframe. They need honest presence, and permission to feel what they actually feel.
What is the role of lament in the Christian life? And how can it help us to encounter God in our pain?
Hall: Lament is one of the most neglected practices in contemporary American Christianity, and one of the most needed. Roughly 40% of the Psalms are psalms of lament, which means roughly 40% of Israel’s hymnbook was devoted to bringing suffering, complaint and grief directly to God. By contrast, research on contemporary Christian worship suggests that somewhere around 4% of hymns reflect that kind of lament. We’ve essentially excised an entire dimension of spiritual life. What lament does psychologically is exactly what the research shows we need: It allows us to process suffering cognitively and emotionally, to work through it rather than around it. And what it does spiritually is keep us in honest relationship with God rather than trying to pretend to ourselves, others and even to God that we are always experiencing a sense of triumph or victory over our suffering. Honest engagement with God is what allows us to encounter the real God. Several of our participants described lament as the point where they finally gave themselves permission to tell God the truth. One woman said, “I never gave myself permission to be honest with God. I thought I needed to put up a face for him.” Lament dismantles that.
What other spiritual practices can help us to endure suffering?
McMartin: Surrender forms part of lament, but is also an important practice in its own right. When bad things happen to us, we declare “not my will, but yours be done” (Matt. 26:36–44). Surrender doesn’t mean giving up, stopping what we are doing to make the situation better or ceasing to pray for change. But we choose to give our circumstances to God, not because we have to, but because we love God.
Gratitude may seem to be a counterintuitive recommendation (1 Thess. 5:18). Gratitude opens us to receive God’s redemptive purposes in our pain and enlarges our perspective. Many times, losses allow us to notice good gifts we had been missing all around us. Gratitude helps us to see the goodness of God in our suffering.
Just as gratitude enlarges our perspective, so does placing our story of difficulty within the grand narrative of salvation God is authoring (Gen. 50:20). Our stories of God’s work in our lives encourage others by displaying the good news of God’s ultimate victory over evil. In the book we also discuss identification with Christ, forgiveness and remembering our mortality. All of these practices also serve to prepare us for times of suffering, even when we’re not in them.
What parting word of encouragement would you give to someone who is facing a season of suffering right now — a difficult diagnosis, a ruptured relationship, a financial hardship, the loss of a loved one?
Berding: Second Corinthians doesn’t address everything there is to know about suffering. But the truths unveiled in that letter are powerful, and we can pray into them, if I can put it that way. This morning on a prayer walk, I was wrestling through a current challenge I’m facing. I’m not sure I would use the word suffering for this hardship since it is mild compared to other things I and others have experienced. But I decided to draw upon the truths I’ve learned from 2 Corinthians to guide my prayers. “Father, prepare me through this ordeal to minister to others. God, please grow in me a deepening and abiding trust. Help me turn away from arrogance. Prepare me for future ministry. Let me respond in thankfulness to the grace that you have extended to me and that by faith I know you will yet extend.” As you internalize the message of 2 Corinthians, you can pray these same kinds of prayers.
Hall: The central message we want to leave readers with is this: Your suffering is not wasted. God is not absent. He is not only present in your pain, he is purposeful within it. That doesn’t mean the suffering is good, or that your pain should be minimized, or that you should rush yourself toward resolution. It means that the God who repeatedly, throughout Scripture, turned terrible situations into ways of achieving his good purposes, is present in your story and working in it. You don’t have to have the answers. You don’t have to understand why. What you can do is keep bringing yourself to God with honesty, keep practicing the ancient disciplines of lament and surrender and gratitude, and keep trusting that the destination of this journey — deeper intimacy with God, becoming more like Jesus — is worth the hard road to get there.
The Experts
Dr. Kenneth Berding (M.A. ’96) is a professor of New Testament at Biola’s Talbot School of Theology and an elder at Redemption Hill Church in Whittier, California. He is the author of numerous books and articles, and he regularly blogs at Kindle Afresh and The Good Book Blog. He has a Ph.D. from Westminster Theological Seminary.
Dr. M. Elizabeth Lewis Hall (B.A. ’91, M.A. ’93, Ph.D. ’96) is a professor of psychology at Biola’s Rosemead School of Psychology, where she also earned her doctorate. For the past decade, she has led a team exploring the resources Christianity offers during difficult times. She coauthored Relational Spirituality, and has published over 150 academic works.
Dr. Jason McMartin (B.A. ’97, M.A. ’99) is a professor of theology at Rosemead School of Psychology and Talbot School of Theology. He has served as an urban missionary and also as a bivocational pastor. He has a Ph.D. from Claremont Graduate University.
Illustrations by Sébastien Thibault
