The Truth is Uglier Than We Think, God is More Beautiful Than we Realize

I've finally found something I feel strongly enough about to write on.

Denise Spencer wrote a post a couple of days ago about Michael Spencer's last days and the upshot of it was that his last days were ugly and painful.  His last days were not the peaceful beatific kinds of days we often hear about of Christians who pass into heaven peacefully with visions of angels and loved ones.  In fact, nearly from the time he was diagnosed till his passing he never had a good day.

Denise begins her story with excerpts from several death stories she had collected where people had a kind of beatific death and how she is so tired of them because she and Michael had nothing of the kind.  Here's a summary:

Where were the visions? The angels? The heavenly music soundtrack? Michael fought a hard fight and he died a hard death. And that was that.

She shares her hopes that Michael would have had a respite and her subsequent anger at God over the whole thing.  It's hard to read, and yet essential to read.

I left a comment over that was started growing into one of those blog comments that is longer than the post, so I cut it a bit short and decided I would come and finish it up over here.

Denise's story opened the floodgates on many thoughts and emotions I have had over the last year and a half, thoughts that may be appropriate to share now.  If you read the "death stories" that Denise has collected, then read Michael's story and then read some of the comments on that post from palliative care nurses you will see that these stories of the blessed death that we like to float in Christian circles are a tiny minority. 

Indeed I have seen and heard of a few myself.  My stepfather's death was relatively peaceful and I and my family were with him at the time.  He had been sedated and in the middle of the night started a breathing pattern that my mom recognized as the death rattles and she called us all in.  His death rattles were relatively short and he seemed to pass away peacefully.  I recently heard of a friend who died who was sedated, woke up and said "he's here" and then went to sleep and passed very quickly.

On the other hand I can remember traveling from Florida to West Virginia to be with my grandfather.  We were too late, he had passed away minutes before we arrived.  But when I saw his body passed away it was in a twisted and contorted shape and had an expression of obvious pain.  It seemed clear to me that he did not die quietly and peacefully.

I am well behind Michael in my own battle, but the stories Denise shared have a lot in common with the stories I hear, on another level.  I find that very few Christians are able to accept that we live in a fallen world.  Thus, we tell the beatific stories, whether they be stories of blessed deaths or miraculous healings and speak of them as if they are the norm to which every Christian can aspire and should expect.

The truth is much uglier than that.  Most deaths are ugly.  Very few of even the most faithful Christians are healed.  In his book I Told Me So, Greg Ten Elshoff writes

Terminal cancer wards are full of patients who believe things we all know to be radically improbable.  They believe that they will be one of the very, very few who fight back and win-or that they’ll be the recipient of a miracle healing in response to the prayers of friends and family.  It’s not just that they believe that they could get better-that God could perform a miracle on their behalf.  In this they’re surely correct.  No.  They believe they will get better-that God will perform a miracle on their behalf.  Nearly all of them are wrong.  And anyone familiar with the statistics is well situated to see that they are.  But-and this is the most salient part for our discussion-nobody corrects them.  In fact, they are encouraged to persist in these highly improbable beliefs.

I have been uniquely blessed in that I have only had a small minority of counselors who fit the mold of Job's counselors.  Most of the people who surround me ask how I'm doing, tell me they are praying for me, stay quiet and listen and engage in normal conversation with me as if I were a normal human being. 

But one Job's counselor has a multiplied effect.  These are the ones who come with something to say.  Most are loaded with advice on some new horrific diet I should eat or some obscure alternative theory.  Then there are the spritual Jobians.  My first spiritual Jobian had a story of a weird undiagnosed disease that he thought was AIDS, but when he finally got right with God in the midst of this the diagnosis came in that it was nothing significant and he moved on.  His message to me was that if I would get right with God I would be healed.

All of this kind of stuff mirrors what Denise was trying to convey.  She didn't put it this way, but Christians know the glory story but they don't know the cross story.  The glory story is that the Christian path is one of glory, observable, overcoming, obviously seen glories as the Christian triumphs over all his enemies.  Thus, the Christian has ears to hear the stories of miraculous healings and beatific deaths because those are glory stories. These people live in a world where we can practice a mechanistic kind of magic with God.  For the health freaks, if I would just I would just imbibe a magic potion concocted by nutritional wizards then like magic I would be healed.  In the spiritual version, a performance of certain rituals of self-exam followed by the prescribed repentance and obedience would free me from my physical ailments.  In any case, whereas doctors are reticent to describe what brought on the cancer simply because the factors that can contribute to any given cancer are innumerable, the glory-story folks know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I brought this cancer on myself and it is up to me to reform myself physically or get right with God.  In each case, suffering is not something a Christian should have to endure and God's only role in it His deliverance of us from it, if we will meet the conditions.

The cross story says that suffering is the path of the Christian.  If you are a Christian, more than likely you will not go gently into that good night, and I am not using that phrase in its original context.  In the original context Dylan Thomas urges us to rage and fight against death until the last moment.  What I am saying is that if you are Christian your death and maybe even the years leading to it, may not be gentle. 

That is the ugly truth I want to write about and I will try to write some more about in coming days is that we still live in a fallen world.  We should no more expect an easy life and death than did the apostles who often died gruesome deaths, nor should we expect greater ease than the many Christians throughout most of history who have met Christ face to face at the end of starvation, disease, or persecution.

The ugly truth is that the fall still applies and the fall means that the Christian path is a cross bearing path - if you are a Christian expect that life will be harder than you initially imagined it would

The beautiful reality is that the fall cannot obscure God.  God is near and dear to the broken hearted.  Often in the midst of great pain one senses the presence of God - I know I have. It's not something that can be seen or articulated and in fact those who watch you suffer would probably conclude that God is not there.  But the theology of the cross teaches that God hides Himself in suffering, He does not display Himself.  I think that's one of the big differences between glory story people and cross people.  The glory-storyists want God to display Himself - obviously, to the sight, publicly, in spectacular ways.  The cross people believe that God is a God who is quiet, hidden away, is masked in His creation, but is especially made known in suffering.

I'll write a bit more on this in the days to come.  I would like to address some of the ways we Christians are less than helpful when we latch on to alternative healing techniques, charismatic healing techniques, falsely optimistic patterns of hope and the like.  The truth is that these are distractions, not only for the suffering, but for the rest of us too.

The thing that distinguishes the suffering Christian is that Christ is with Him - nothing more, nothing less, nothing else.

Comments

[nance nAncY nanc hey-you davis-baby]

and, you wrote it well.
♥n

[Jim E]

David,

Thank you for expanding on your Imonk comments. It is amazing how our addiction to the glory story colors absolutely everything we look at - even death. I am currently reading "On Being a Theologian of the Cross" by Forde and it has blown me away. I have been a glory deluded fool my whole life. Please write more on this, dear brother... your circumstances and perspective make your words cut deep and ring true.

[Darin Shaw]

David - thank you for this post. I've been here with friends and loved ones. It's been tremendously difficult. Your last line, especially, blesses me.

I've recently been considering the question oft-asked of the suffering, "How are you doing?" It seems to me that the question is always asked in a loaded 'glory-story' expectation, that as a believer in Jesus there should be swift signs of progress towards "good" or "better" or something. I am tempted to ask, "Do you really want to know?" I'm convinced that many would rather not.

As I said, your last line - there's a truth to embrace. I'll look forward to more of your thoughts on this subject.

[Kathryn]

Thank you, Pastor Wayne for your much needed words. I don't have cancer but perhaps Adult Muscular Dystrophy or perhaps ALS. Still waiting on a diagnosis. Your words ring so true for me as I too hear the talk of healing and while I know our Lord can, He has chosen not to. I will cut and paste your words into my journal as they will be reflected on often. God bless you and I look forward to reading more of what you write on this topic!

[Charlie]

I really appreciate what you've said, David, and especially that phrase "God hides Himself in suffering." I think the modern church has not been honest about suffering, perhaps has not had the courage to face suffering, and has embraced a glory theology because it's a sweeter, more palatable story than the story of the cross.

I am also reminded of Sherwin Nuland's book "How We Die." Dr. Nuland is not a believer and his book is a medical description of what happens to the body in death. Our bodies want to live, and they resist death long and hard. Suffering is woven into that struggle for life. The Spirit of God is there, too, as you say, walking beside us in that suffering.

Keep writing. I'm praying for you.

[Judy Parsons]

David,

This brings to mind my biggest regret of my dad's last days. We knew he wouldn't be cured (pancreatic cancer spread to liver and possibly heart by the time they found it), but we wanted him to get better. We tried to make him walk every day to keep up his strength and cut the swelling in his legs. Keep up his strength for what? For us. He didn't care how much strength he had, he was just worn out, period. We didn't let him go gently, we tried to make him fight, and he had no fight. I wish we had asked him what he needed, what he wanted, instead of telling him. There were maybe moments when he was peaceful about things on the inside, but mostly we all realized cancer sucks, big time. Nothing pretty or beatific about that. Thanks for sharing what must be a very hard reality to face. Our prayers are with you and the family.

[Dan Cruver]

Thanks, David, for writing this post. The final days/hours before the death of my 3 year old son Daniel were absolutely brutal. When he finally breathed his last breath, every shred of any sense of subjective peace for me was stripped away. Daniel's suffering, especially during his last few hours, was violent. And when he died I personally felt something of the reality of David's cry in Psalm 22:1. My only "comfort" was the objective reality that Jesus entered into the very bottom of the abyss of suffering for me and in my place, irrespective of my subjective experience in the midst of our family's suffering.

Thanks for the good word, David.

[joe m]

Thanks for saying what had to be said.

But I believe it is hard for people who live and breathe the scriptures to accept a painful life of suffering and death - because so much of the NT is about healing. During his ministry on Earth, Jesus never tells anyone that they must live with their disease. Many Christians only understand "carrying their Cross" in spiritual terms, and illness as some demon-sent entity that can be removed with the right words. People want victory over sin and death, not perseverance. There is a reason crucifixes are not in a lot of churches.

[Richard]

Thank you for what you say here, Pastor Wayne. I have shared your experiences and your thoughts on "the glory story" vs. the theology of the Cross with our church and the adults in our Sunday School class as I walked them through Luther's "Heidelberg Disputation." As I've mentioned before, walking with my wife through cancer has sharpened this distinction immensely. I can't too highly recommend Michael Horton's book, "Too Good to be True," also as echoing many of your thoughts here.

[Rick]

Wise words, David. Thanks for your insights and courage. I reposted this blog on my own blog. Great stuff. Raw. Real. True. Blessings to you, brother. You are in my prayers.

[Rod]

I first confronted the observation that most deaths are hard reading a book called "How we Die" in 1994. The author described the trajectory of the most common ways of dying. More recently, a few months ago I read online an interview with Harvard Law Professor Bill Stuntz, a Christian who has suffered 10 years of unremitting back pain and is now dying of cancer. I strongly recommend looking up this interview, as I found it very real, and inspirational.

I have visited the JollyBlogger for several years, but never commented. Thanks.

[J.]

I've always considered the talk of theology of glory vs. theology of the cross as unhelpful. It is always used to accuse others of being naive or insensitive or something similar. I think the Word of God gives us a bit of both of what these two categories are supposed to represent. Certainly there is degree involved. I don't like to have absolute categories thrust onto me forcing me to take sides.

[Ellen Jervis]

Pastor I don't even know where to begin in expressing how you are blessing me with your latest thoughts. I lost my husband on May 18, 2010. And yes to this day I don't understand the suffering he endured and yet at the same time I do. I don't understand because I was on the other side of it, as an observer and so my pain was real but somewhat full of guilt and selfishness. It was so difficult to just be there sometimes, to say nothing when nothing was best, and to offer smiles when they were needed but I was breaking inside. I wanted God to do something to ease everyone's pain. In truth the pain remained, but suprisingly relief came in other ways. I don't think I appreciated them as nearly as much as I do now looking back on them. I wished I had.

So I was the observer. My late husband did not speak much about what he was feeling, therefore in many ways I feel your words are his words to me. Thank you.

[Ellen Jervis]

correction I lost my husband on May 18, 2002.

[Bryant Evans]

You made some very valid points there. Of course it is appointed unto man once to die. While we may not fear what is beyond we often do fear the moment of death. It is not pretty even for the finest among us.

We do yearn for the glory but forget that Christ suffered before he was glorified.

Let us also remember that death is a consequence of sin and that lies at the feet of Satan.

[Sabina James]

You posts have blessed me. Your thoughts on the ugliness of death and cancer lead me to these thoughts.

For some of us life is so ugly that an ugly death brings no fear. My life, from childhood, has been bleak and joyless and remains so.

It has been the reason I cling to Christ. He is my only hope of joy.

No matter the cause of ugliness in our lives, the promise of eternal beauty with our God makes the suffering bearable. He does not waste our pain.

[darrell vaughn]

Your words are like the balm of Gilead. Thanks for years of wisdom.

[wanda]

Such moving words... I can't really say I've felt being a Christian meant I was safe from any suffering. I know otherwise!
Your post is incredibly insightful! Thank you.
Be blessed, friend!

[Rachael Starke]

Thank you for those words David. I'm in the midst of a relatively minor, but dragging on, health problem in our family. I'm conscious that much of my "suffering" is really self-pity and a pampered perspective on life as I think I deserve, rather than life as it must be in a fallen world. Thank you for reminding me that life in Christ is what I need, and have. Everything else is temporary.

[Dan Phillips]

Okay, brother, this is your Dan-alert. Time to say check in with us again.

(c:

[Bryan]

Well said. Thanks for this post.

Bryan

[Lisa Hoffman]

Dear David,

Thank you for the posting of this story. I believe it is true that many (not all) suffer greatly in their end days. Even in uglyness of death and disease God lifts us up from this fallen world to a place with our Savior, Jesus Christ.

I still find it amazing that God allows me the strength to handle the loss of two people very close to me and shows me how to continue on with out them.

My husband, Bruce Hoffman, passed away on August 15, 2000 and my father, Angelo Viaros, who passed away on September 21, 2006. I was with Bruce 31 years and with my father, 53 years, so I consider myself fortunate to have them in my life so long.

Bruce's passing was quiet and respectful and I know, for certain, he is in heaven with his own dad and mom. My father, Angelo, was just the opposite, because of his lung and brain cancer symptoms. His death affected me for a long time because we were unsure of his commitment to Christ. A friend of mine reminded me that we do not know what God's plans are and we never know what happens in their minds just prior to passing.

On a brighter note, God has used me, because of these losses, to help others in the ministry throughout the States of Florida, New York and California. He continues to bless us each day and I am grateful.

I continue to pray for you David, and your family as well as Mrs. Spencer and her family.

Blessings and peace. Lisa Hoffman

[Lisa Hoffman]

I agree with you completely, Wanda!

[bookme4life]

Your Jobian 'counselors' seem to be the same type talked about in Joni Eareckson Tada's new book, "A Place for Healing." Their attempts at 'help' are the least helpful of anything, and yet they persist.

Thank you for your post. It was encouraging and helpful.