The Theology of Suffering

It both soothes my soul and disrupts it

I am at home and in a foreign land
I find a restfulness within as well as challenge

My thoughts expand--and yet somehow shrink

I am in community but alone

There is voice to my suffering and silence to my voice

I yearn to hear more and want to hide

Yesterday I began my course, "The Theology of Suffering".  The above articulates best what is rushing through my being.  I feel privileged...grateful, to be a part of this course.  The professor is a gifted, gentle, humble man of whom I instantly felt a kinship with. He speaks my language.  

Lucy, in "The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe says of Aslan, "He is good, but He's not safe."  If I may transfer these words to this course, it would read, "It is good....so very good, but it's not safe."

There is a very real sense of the ground we are treading on, being holy.  First and foremost, this is God's domain.  This reality and mystery of suffering, as much as we may dialogue and wrestle with it, lies in the hands of this God we worship.  But further, is the awareness that there is something sacred, yes, holy, about sifting through the darkened maze of suffering, whether it be another classmate, or a stranger beyond the four walls of our room.

This is no place for the glib, cliche answers that are too often placed as bandaids on our open wounds.  No, this is a place where each word, each expression of thought will be carefully offered.  Where respect and grace and empathy will become our own healing ointment as we engage with one other.

We were challenged to be surprised.  Surprised by how God may desire to shape us and grow us through the coming weeks.  

Already, I am this and more.