Suffering and comfort
In the Bible study I have started attending, we are going through 2 Corinthians. I tend to stick to the Old Testament or Gospels in the studies I've led, so it will be interesting to do one of the epistles. I like narrative, so that is probably why I've kind of not chosen to study them. It's good to move out of your comfort zone now and then.
I have to admit that the first chapter has had a lot in it that I have been thinking about. In particular, the idea of suffering and comfort in verses 3 through 7. I'll write it out for those who don't want to go search out a Bible.
"Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. For as we share abundantly in Christ's sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort too. If we are afflicted, it is for your comfort and salvation; and if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which you experience when you patiently endure the same sufferings that we suffer. Our hope for you is unshaken, for we know that as your share in our sufferings, you will also share in our comfort." (2 Corinthians 1:3-7, ESV)
I am initially drawn to this passage because of the mention of the word 'comfort' ten times. The past couple of years have definitely had their difficult (sometimes extremely difficult) parts. There were some time in the past few years where feeling God's comfort seemed like a very foreign thing indeed. Looking back, I know it was there, but it was difficult to notice when I was so focused on the hard parts.
But it you look, not only is comfort mentioned ten times, but 'suffering' or 'affliction' is also mentioned more than once. Six times, to be exact. The suffering and the comfort come together, side by side, through the entire passage. It's as though you can't have one without the other. And in a real sense, you can't. If you are not afflicted or suffering or broken hearted, you have no need of comfort.
The writer of the study guide we are using likened it to the Amazon river, where the two tributaries meet, they are different colors, and for quite a while remain to distinctly different rivers flowing together to form the Amazon. They later on mix together, but not at the start. The two rivers are suffering and comfort joining together to form one thing; one creation of God. I like this analogy, but I think I have come up with a better on.
As you know, I have been working to regain what skills I had in hand spinning. Yesterday I finished plying together two spools of my ugly, practice yarn, figuring that it would at least be good for the practice if nothing else. The wool I was spinning for the most part wasn't even particularly lovely, and just random bits that I had left over from other projects. I never expected to like the results, but take a look.
It's kind of cool, just don't look too closely at the uneven spinning, that still needs work. The thing I did right was to keep one of the bobbins filled with one color of yarn, and mixture of pink and purple. The other bobbin was all over the place, with one color following another, just as I happened to grab the wool. That first bobbin was ugly. Trust me, it just was.
But to get back to Corinthians. My trouble with the river analogy is that eventually the two tributaries meld together into one large river, where you could never tease apart which water came from which source. This yarn I've spun fits much better. That first, ugly spool is the suffering and affliction. It was not pretty. I didn't like it. I didn't even think anything good could come out of it. I kind of didn't want anyone to see it. I wished I could just skip it and get to the part where I felt comfortable with my skills again. The second spool is the comfort. It looked better in general. The spinning was definitely better. I liked it, mainly because it gave me hope that things would get better in terms of my abilities. And I couldn't have done the second spool without first spinning the first, whether I liked that first one or not.
Even though I liked that second one better, it was still lacking. There was no way I could have done anything more with it on its own. Plying them together did something. By combining these two spools together, I created something significantly better than the sum of their parts. I could do something with this skein of wool; it can be put to use. Not only is it stronger, but it is also much, much more beautiful. More beautiful, actually, than I ever anticipated it being.
Isn't this what Paul is saying? It takes both the pain and the comfort to change us into something more beautiful and useful. But those two parts are always there, while combined together, always separate and distinguishable. We will always be able to sort the pain from the comfort, that will always be part of our story, but once combined, we are forever something different... and better.
I have to admit that the first chapter has had a lot in it that I have been thinking about. In particular, the idea of suffering and comfort in verses 3 through 7. I'll write it out for those who don't want to go search out a Bible.
"Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. For as we share abundantly in Christ's sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort too. If we are afflicted, it is for your comfort and salvation; and if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which you experience when you patiently endure the same sufferings that we suffer. Our hope for you is unshaken, for we know that as your share in our sufferings, you will also share in our comfort." (2 Corinthians 1:3-7, ESV)
I am initially drawn to this passage because of the mention of the word 'comfort' ten times. The past couple of years have definitely had their difficult (sometimes extremely difficult) parts. There were some time in the past few years where feeling God's comfort seemed like a very foreign thing indeed. Looking back, I know it was there, but it was difficult to notice when I was so focused on the hard parts.
But it you look, not only is comfort mentioned ten times, but 'suffering' or 'affliction' is also mentioned more than once. Six times, to be exact. The suffering and the comfort come together, side by side, through the entire passage. It's as though you can't have one without the other. And in a real sense, you can't. If you are not afflicted or suffering or broken hearted, you have no need of comfort.
The writer of the study guide we are using likened it to the Amazon river, where the two tributaries meet, they are different colors, and for quite a while remain to distinctly different rivers flowing together to form the Amazon. They later on mix together, but not at the start. The two rivers are suffering and comfort joining together to form one thing; one creation of God. I like this analogy, but I think I have come up with a better on.
As you know, I have been working to regain what skills I had in hand spinning. Yesterday I finished plying together two spools of my ugly, practice yarn, figuring that it would at least be good for the practice if nothing else. The wool I was spinning for the most part wasn't even particularly lovely, and just random bits that I had left over from other projects. I never expected to like the results, but take a look.
It's kind of cool, just don't look too closely at the uneven spinning, that still needs work. The thing I did right was to keep one of the bobbins filled with one color of yarn, and mixture of pink and purple. The other bobbin was all over the place, with one color following another, just as I happened to grab the wool. That first bobbin was ugly. Trust me, it just was.
But to get back to Corinthians. My trouble with the river analogy is that eventually the two tributaries meld together into one large river, where you could never tease apart which water came from which source. This yarn I've spun fits much better. That first, ugly spool is the suffering and affliction. It was not pretty. I didn't like it. I didn't even think anything good could come out of it. I kind of didn't want anyone to see it. I wished I could just skip it and get to the part where I felt comfortable with my skills again. The second spool is the comfort. It looked better in general. The spinning was definitely better. I liked it, mainly because it gave me hope that things would get better in terms of my abilities. And I couldn't have done the second spool without first spinning the first, whether I liked that first one or not.
Even though I liked that second one better, it was still lacking. There was no way I could have done anything more with it on its own. Plying them together did something. By combining these two spools together, I created something significantly better than the sum of their parts. I could do something with this skein of wool; it can be put to use. Not only is it stronger, but it is also much, much more beautiful. More beautiful, actually, than I ever anticipated it being.
Isn't this what Paul is saying? It takes both the pain and the comfort to change us into something more beautiful and useful. But those two parts are always there, while combined together, always separate and distinguishable. We will always be able to sort the pain from the comfort, that will always be part of our story, but once combined, we are forever something different... and better.
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