“Lent, the liturgical year shows us, is about the holiness that suffering can bring. It is about bringing good where evil has been, about bringing love where hate has been. It is about the transformation of the base to the beautiful” (The Liturgical Year, 125). Let’s be honest—we aren’t fans of suffering. We prefer a warm breeze in a sandy beach, sumptuous meals, and cotton sheets with incredible thread counts. It would seem that suffering is only what we see on the nightly news, happening somewhere else to someone else. So why do we have an entire season of the church calendar that seems to hold up suffering as good?
No normal human being seeks suffering, and yet Jesus didn’t shy away from it when it came. He accepted it because it was necessary to accomplish the salvation of mankind. He suffered betrayal, public humiliation, beatings, whipping, nails piercing his body, the slow suffocation of the Roman cross, and complete isolation. Not only that, but He had to live through the anticipation of all this suffering because He knew it was unavoidable. The anticipation was so dreadful that He sweat actual blood (Luke 22:44).
Even Jesus, the perfect God-Man would have preferred to avoid suffering: “And he said, ‘Abba, Father, all things are possible to thee; remove this cup from me; yet not what I will, but what thou wilt’” (Mark 14:36). He only underwent such terrible suffering because it led to something greater. Joan Chittister wrote, “Knowing why we choose to suffer is what makes suffering bearable” (The Liturgical Year, 131). The meaning behind the suffering gives us strength to endure, just as it did Christ. It doesn’t reduce the suffering any more than a woman’s labor pain goes away because she knows she will have a new baby to hold once it’s over. But maybe a reduction in suffering isn’t what we need.
Few of us will truly suffer during Lent, and that is good. We merely need a reminder of suffering this season, not the full-blown experience. We taste suffering to remind us of the suffering that Jesus Christ took upon Himself on our behalf. We taste suffering to teach us that there is more to life than the physical body and the creature comforts that we so often seek. We taste suffering because it can be “a stepping-stone to maturity” (126).
This is the opportunity that the Lenten season offers: spiritual growth. A taste of suffering endured for the right reason is an invitation to spiritual maturity. Of course, suffering can be overwhelming, and crush one’s spirit. Suffering is not a guaranteed path to growth, but it has the potential to bring growth in a unique way. Suffering reminds us of our humanity and frailty. But if we have the presence of mind, suffering also points us to what lies ahead for those who trust in Christ: Total release from all suffering in Eternity. In other words, Lent offers a glimpse beyond our tiny, selfish world, to where Christ awaits.
