Intuit

The other night I started reading Thomas Case’s book, ‘A Treatise on Afflictions.’ He opened his treatise by explaining why and how God’s afflictions are beneficial to his children. In his first explanation, he addresses how Jesus became a man – one like us – partly to experience pain and suffering. A character in Case’s treatise asks, ‘Why? If Jesus is God, and if God knows everything, wouldn’t Jesus know pain and suffering? If so, why did God become man?’ ‘Yes, God knew suffering – as a matter of intuition,’ Case replied.

Indeed, I have no doubt that God could ‘intuit’ or ‘suppose’ pain as no other, but to experience ‘real’ pain and suffering? That is something God could only accomplish by becoming flesh himself. Here, with Jesus becoming flesh, is God’s ultimate love and sympathy shown to us. How often we try to console a friend in their suffering. What do we often say? ‘I can’t imagine what you are going through.’ Sometimes, we might say that we can imagine what they’re going through… yes, because we went through a similar experience. However, even then, our recollection of a similarly painful experience is not the same as what our friend may be going through presently. There are too many differences that come into play – better or worse… our pain threshold… duration of affliction… other extenuating circumstances… to name just a few.

Well, I suppose someone is thinking, ‘well, if you can say that about a friend’s experience – you know, even if we share a similar experience, and that their experience is not the same…. what about Jesus? We’re told that Jesus understands all of our suffering… all of our trials… temptations…’

‘Yes, that’s true – he does.’

‘How?’

‘First, your question reveals a dim view, if not a small view of God. The very notion that the Creator of all things… heavens and earth… creator of time itself… why would such a Supreme Being even cast a thought our way? Who are we to say anything… ask anything of God? Secondly, consider the nature of the death of Jesus. No, not just who died, but how Jesus died. I cannot imagine a more horrific… prolonged… excruciating death than the death of a person on the cross. Yes, others died on the cross, but to assume that those who died on the cross surpassed in agony and pain what Christ experienced throughout the day, especially facing the ultimate wrath of God when His Father turned away?  True, those who face the wrath of God that Jesus faced when he cried, ‘My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?’ – those will face God’s wrath in judgment, but we’re talking about the experience of the living.  Also, consider the timelessness of Christ’s memory. True, Jesus rose from the grave… later, he ascended and now stands at the right hand of the Father, but I don’t think time heals… no, not in heaven, as it is said that time heals on earth. No, I suspect that what Jesus experiences – right now in heaven – is an ever-present suffering in remembrance, concurrent with our own. Thus, he is able to commiserate in substance… fullness, bringing true and timely comfort to his suffering children. So, no, the consolation that a friend may offer because they experienced something akin to what we’re going through is not the same as that which Christ affords to those who place their trust in him.

Finally, the fact that Jesus – God Himself – took upon himself our suffering gives rise to our being able to rejoice in our own suffering. How is that? By knowing that God did not just go intuit… our salvation…  by supposing our plight. No, he experienced our pain and suffering firsthand. Why? Because God wanted to come into the closest, personal relationship that he could have with his creature, and now…. if you can understand that… if you can grasp the enormity of God’s love and kindness by sending His only begotten Son… then you can truly rejoice in sharing in His suffering when God permits affliction to come to us. Thus, we are not ‘just supposing’ that we know what suffering He felt for us.