Suffering and Worship

"At the martyrdom of Faustines and Jovita, brothers and citizens of Brescia, their torments were so many, and their patience so great, that Calocerius, a pagan, beholding them, was struck with admiration, and exclaimed in a kind of ecstasy, Great is the God of the Christians! For which he was apprehended, and suffered a similar fate." Fox's Book Of Martyrs

"But to the degree that you share the sufferings of Christ, keep on rejoicing; so that also at the revelation of His glory, you may rejoice with exultation. If you are reviled for the name of Christ, you are blessed, because the Spirit of glory and of God rests upon you." I Peter 4:13-14

It's quite common in this generation to hear glowing testimonies of Christians who speak of a life without pain and sorrow. Many such testimonies tell of difficulties before the speaker came to know Christ. But after becoming a Christian, the individual seemingly has no problems. Life is just a "bed of roses."

I seriously doubt the accuracy of such testimonies. Christians throughout the generations have encountered more difficulties after their conversions than before they came to Christ. Christianity is not the absence of hardship or suffering in life. It's the glory and grace of God in the heart of the hurting believer. A Christian receives no exemption from the hurts of humanity. It's often in the midst of suffering that the Christian learns to worship Jesus Christ. He learns to appreciate and adore Him as he gains a greater understanding of Christ's suffering. It's in the trying circumstances that his understanding of God's love is deepened.

Early in our marriage, my wife and I moved to a ghetto area of Chicago. We ministered to drug addicts, runaways, and street gangs. We witnessed and shared Christ on the streets in one of the most difficult areas of Chicago. God blessed the ministry, and many young people came to know Jesus. We held follow-up Bible studies for the new believers.

As we realized the possibility of impacting Chicago for Christ, we began praying for a mighty spiritual awakening within the city. We passed out gospel pamphlets each evening in a nightclub district and shared Christ with anyone who would listen. We couldn't believe the results. The clubs would normally close at 4 a.m. each morning. But our witnessing on the streets began to make its impact on the clubs. They had to close at midnight because of the lack of business.

The owners of the nightclubs were enraged. They did everything they could to remove us from the streets. They threatened, embarrassed, and ridiculed us. Lloyd Cole, a coworker, and I were passing out our pamphlets one evening, and I spoke with a man who wanted to know Christ. He told me, "I don't know why I come to these places. My life is a mess. I need Christ." We knelt on the sidewalk, and he invited Christ into his life. Instead of going into the club, he went home.

The barker in front of the club got angry. He pulled out a knife and threatened to stab me. Not long after the encounter with the barker, two plainclothes policemen came out of the club. We told them of the threat from the club barker. We couldn't believe what happened next. They "read us our rights" and placed us under arrest. We were taken to the city jail and booked for disorderly conduct. The charges stated that there were "three or more persons inciting a riotous situation."

I couldn't believe it! There were only two of us and we were quietly sharing our faith on the streets. I couldn't believe that such an arrest could take place in America. We were allowed one telephone call. I called my wife, Tex, who was close to nine months pregnant with our first child. Lloyd and I were placed in a cell, surrounded by drunks and common criminals. The officers confiscated our Bibles.

Before I became a Christian, I was president of the Baton Rouge Junior Rotarians and president of the East Baton Rouge Parish Youth Council. I was the author of a proclamation for "Patriotism Day" in my home city, which was signed into effect by our mayor. I was one of thirty students to represent my state in a study at the United Nations. There I was awarded "Outstanding Youth Speaker" in North America. I earned the respect of my friends, community, and government. But now I was in jail. I was being treated like a common criminal for one reason: I had found the love of the Savior, and I simply wanted others to know that love.

Lloyd and I sat in our jail cell in utter disbelief. But we came to love and appreciate Jesus that evening to a degree we'd never before known. Two things happened in my heart. First, I received a glimpse of the love of the Savior. I realized He had been falsely accused. He did wrong to no one. Yet He was despised, rejected, and crucified. But He loved us in the midst of His suffering. In my rejection, I discovered His acceptance.

Second, Jesus made my heart tender toward those who suffer for His sake. Much of my ministry today is in areas of the world where it's unpopular to be a Christian. I travel often to areas of the world where Christians suffer for their faith. That evening in jail, God placed a special love in my heart for the Christians who face great difficulties because of their love for Jesus. A direction was set for my life in that cell. I could know the hurt of human abuse and the comfort of God in the midst of that abuse. My heart was softened toward those who suffer for His name's sake.

But most of all, I learned to worship in the midst of difficulty. Lloyd and I felt so alone in that cell. We looked at each other and I asked, "What do we do now?" We began to pray, then sing. We began worshipping God in jail. Our bodies were kept in cages like animals, but our spirits soared freely. We sang, "Amazing grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me." At first the other prisoners were yelling at us. But then one of them asked, "If you're a Christian, then why are you in jail?"

We explained what had transpired that evening. It gave us a golden opportunity to preach the gospel. A man in the cell next to us said, "I stabbed a man tonight. Is there any hope for me? I need God." We led him in a prayer of repentance and faith in Christ. How we began to worship in that lonely jail cell!

Later that evening, my wife bailed us out of jail. It was very humiliating. Before I became a Christian, I was an upstanding, well-respected citizen. Now I had to be bailed out of jail by my wife, because I had shared Christ on the streets.

God turned humiliation into an opportunity to proclaim the glory of Jesus to hundreds of thousands of people. I built a cross and placed it across the street from the office of the late Mayor Richard J. Daley, Chicago's longtime mayor. I stayed there, praying and fasting until my trial. Every major newspaper in Chicago carried stories of our plight. I was able to share Christ with the city. Secular radio and television stations continually interviewed me. One major television station had a 30-minute segment given totally to informing the public about our situation. It allowed people throughout the city to ask me any question about myself or my arrest that they wanted to ask. The program gave me a wonderful opportunity to share what Christ had done in my life.

Many Christians throughout the nation supported us. Letters of protest were sent to the city of Chicago from churches, political leaders, and individual Christians. It was overwhelming. The morning I awakened to go to trial, my wife went into labor. When I left to go to court, she was being rushed to the hospital to have our first child. It's impossible to describe the emotions I felt that day. Eventually, the city of Chicago admitted to false arrest and dropped the charges. Lloyd and I signed papers that we would not sue the city. And my son, Dave, was born on the day I went to trial for telling people on the streets about Jesus.

In the midst of my difficulties with the city of Chicago, God taught me three important lessons about worship and its relationship to suffering. The most beautiful moments of worship are often experienced during the deepest and darkest days of difficulty. Therefore, it's extremely important that we allow the suffering and pain in our lives to transform shallow, empty worship into deep, meaningful experiences of adoration for the Savior.

I don't understand suffering; it's a great mystery to me. I don't fully understand why the righteous suffer. I don't understand why a city arrested two young men who were helping drug addicts and alcoholics find a new life in Christ. I don't understand why my best friend met tragic death in an automobile accident in the prime of his life. I don't understand why my father suffered with a rare disease for ten years and then died while I was at the university. There are many things concerning suffering that are beyond my comprehension. I don't know the answer to "why." But I do know "what" suffering has produced in my life. It has caused me to look deep into my soul and by faith to lay hold of the grace of God. It has brought me into a deeper and more intimate knowledge of Him.