How we approach affliction is one of the most important questions in the spiritual life. Many traditions seek to avoid affliction, even making this their primary spiritual concern. The Catholic faith is not like that. It does not promise an end of suffering in this life. Although Catholics do much to relieve the suffering of others, we do not regard freedom from suffering as the meaning of our lives or our religion. Rather, through suffering, we come to greater love for God and neighbor.
From the call of Abraham to the return of Christ, the way of the Church has been through suffering. The suffering of the Christian mirrors the suffering of Christ, whose anguish is mystically presented in the Psalms. The psalter is the Churches prayer book and in the psalms we pray with Christ himself: “My soul is full of troubles . . . my eyes grow dim through sorrow.” (Psalm 88:3,9) “Our span is seventy years,” writes the psalmist, “or eighty for those who are strong. And most of these are emptiness and pain.” (Psalm 90:10)
In the New Testament, Jesus and the Apostles reveal the mystery of this suffering. Christ confronted the depth of human misery and refused to shun it: “Now is my soul troubled,” he says. “And what shall I say? ‘Father, save me from this hour’? No, for this purpose I have come to this hour.” (John 12:27) Christ reveals that there is a blessing that can come through mourning. (Matthew 5:4) In sharing the sufferings of Christ, Paul says, “his comfort also overflows.” (2 Corinthians 1: 5)
There are at least two kinds of blessing than can come through suffering and sorrow. First, we can acquire merit through our willing submission to the will of God. Of the two benefits that flow from suffering, this is the more noble and the more Christlike. St. Paul teaches that Christ was obedient to God unto his death on the cross. Because of this, God “exalted him to the highest place.” (Philippians 2: 9) We can participate in this meritorious suffering, and, like Christ, we can offer our suffering as a sacrifice for the benefit of Christ’s body, the Church. (Colossians 1:24)
We can also benefit through suffering if we make use of it to purge us of sin and to increase our faith, hope, and charity. This is the most accessible and immediately relevant use of suffering. It is also one to which we are very often blind.
When we encounter suffering in our lives, we usually try to flee from it. This is true of physical suffering from injury and illness. It is true of material or social deprivation. It is true of the emotional suffering that most of us experience daily. Whatever the source of suffering, a very common response is to flee into low and earthly pleasures. The television, the refrigerator, the cellphone, the wine glass, and the narcotic all offer a brief respite from the pains that trouble us.
Some forms of suffering are good to avoid, and there is no evil in trying to eliminate them. But we cannot flee all suffering. The danger comes in when we immediately recoil at the very thought of suffering and dive reflexively into diversion in order to escape. This is especially true when the suffering is spiritual in nature.
Like many Catholic spiritual writers, St. Ignatius of Loyola considered “desolation” to be a very common and potentially beneficial part of the spiritual life. In his spiritual exercises, he identifies several reasons that God might allow desolation to come into our life. It might be to scourge us for our faults, if the source of our desolation comes from our own missteps in the spiritual life. It might be to drive us forward even when we have no spiritual energy, thus building our patience and resolve. Finally, it might be to teach us greater reliance upon God’s grace, lest we come to trust too much in our own good will and resolutions.
Some traditions, like Buddhism, make freedom from suffering their primary concern. The Buddhist “four noble truths” claim to offer path for the cessation of suffering.
Many in the “health and wellness” wing of the Pentecostal tradition claim that a robust faith can bring alleviation of all material poverty as well as physical and emotional torment. Similarly, secular clinicians, life coaches, yoga studios, day spas, and drug pushers offer “bliss” for a small fee. All these traditions continue to win adherents, as there is no end of hurting people looking for a way to escape their misery. The problem, of course, is that they cannot deliver complete freedom, and in some cases even cause more harm than good. Meditation, massage, and faith healing may bring some relief from our neurotic conditions, but they cannot heal the deep wounds of our fallen condition.
The Catholic looks suffering in the face, as it were. When troubles come, he can say with St. Ignatius of Antioch, “Now, at last, I begin to be a disciple.” Instead of diversions in “low and earthly pleasures,” he can look to Christ and pray the words of the Divine Mercy chaplet:
“Eternal God, in whom mercy is endless and the treasury of compassion inexhaustible, look kindly upon us and increase Your mercy in us, that in difficult moments we might not despair nor become despondent, but with great confidence submit ourselves to Your holy will, which is Love and Mercy itself. Amen.”