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Posted: November 12th, 2007 at 12:27am By: Kevin Considine
If you haven't heard of musician Sufjan Stevens, you should look him up. Especially if you like your indie-rock touched by bluegrass, folk and a little melancholy. And there's much to recommend about this thirty-something songwriter who has a unique sense of melody and lyrics.
In one of his more recent songs, "Casimir Pulaski Day," he reflects upon a friend who gets sick with cancer and eventually passes away. At the end of the song, before the wistful horns and chorus conclude it, he sings:
In the morning when you finally go
And the nurse runs in with her head hung low
And the cardinal hits the window
In the morning in the winter shade
On the first of March on the holiday
I thought I saw you breathing
Oh the glory that the Lord has made
And the complications when I see his face
In the morning in the window
Oh the glory when he took our place
But he took my shoulders and he shook my face
And he takes and he takes and he takes.
Stevens is singing about how God has taken away his beloved friend. For no good reason. He sees God in the window and doesn't know what to think of this deity. Stevens, a Christian, is struggling.
Well, who wouldn't? After all, many of us have been there. We've been either the victim or the witness of some nonsensical tragedy. We can at least understand when someone suffers for having injured another person, even if it makes us uneasy. But when someone suffers or dies for little or no reason, like losing a battle with cancer, we have great difficulty. This doesn't seem to harmonize with the God we know. We don't like it.
And maybe we shouldn't. After all, does a distant, passionless deity pulling the strings really seem like an adequate image of God? Is that the God found in Scripture? I, for one, am wary of a God who coldly gives and takes on a whim. God may indeed be all-powerful, and we should submit ourselves to God's will, but our God is not in a competition to show us the divine's dominating power. That is unsuitable for the Christian God.
For many, including myself, an aloof, passionless, calculating deity is not adequate. And theologians such as Elizabeth Johnson and Edward Schillebeeckx have reminded us that God does not will suffering. For unwarranted suffering is often a mystery. It doesn't make sense, no matter how hard we try to understand.
The truth is, there's no good answer to the question of unwarranted suffering and death. But there is another way of looking at it. And that different perspective is that God is suffering with us. That is, God suffers in solidarity with humankind.
After all, our God revealed in Jesus was unjustly tried, beaten and executed. And this Jesus revealed to us in the resurrection that God desires nothing less than the full human flourishing of each of us. So God suffers with us for now. But God intends to take away our suffering and empower us to heal, grow strong and live again.
To paraphrase St. Irenaeus of Lyons, one of the early church fathers, the glory of God is the human being fully alive. This reminds us that our God is concerned with ordinary men and women and seeks to keep us close. This God is our Lord but also our friend. This God of Jesus Christ is our loving father and mother.
God suffers with us. Which means that this Living God does not will our suffering. The Almighty is opposed to it and works for healing and reconciliation. This Holy Mystery, who is both in the world and utterly beyond the world, has chosen to suffer with us. This God calls us to place our suffering on the cross along with his. And, like the early disciples, we do this in light of the hope of the Resurrection.
Sufjan Stevens' song hits home. He reminds me that nonsensical tragedies are part of life. But, more importantly, he reminds me that we have to learn how to live again in their aftermath. We won't forget. But our memories and our futures will be transformed by God's grace. We'll see the possibility of new life emerge.
For God's suffering means that we're not alone. Not ever. Even in our most desperate moment of isolated suffering. For our God has been revealed as Emmanuel, "God with us." The resurrection reminds us of this. It was God's answer to Jesus' cry from the cross.
God's answer may often be strange. And it may not make complete sense. But God's love abides. And God will never leave us alone. While we pick up the pieces, God suffers with us.
And that should give us hope.
— — —
Kevin Considine is a graduate student at Catholic Theological Union in Chicago, the largest Roman Catholic school of theology and ministry in North America. He is married to a most wonderful woman who keeps him in line and makes sure his thoughts make sense. He and his wife live on the South Side of Chicago. He welcomes comments, feedback or fits of anger and can be reached at {email considkp@yahoo.com}considkp@yahoo.com{/email}. © Copyright 2007 by Kevin Considine.
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If you haven't heard of musician Sufjan Stevens, you should look him up. Especially if you like your indie-rock touched by bluegrass, folk and a little melancholy. And there's much to recommend about this thirty-something songwriter who has a unique sense of melody and lyrics.
In one of his more recent songs, "Casimir Pulaski Day," he reflects upon a friend who gets sick with cancer and eventually passes away. At the end of the song, before the wistful horns and chorus conclude it, he sings:
In the morning when you finally go
And the nurse runs in with her head hung low
And the cardinal hits the window
In the morning in the winter shade
On the first of March on the holiday
I thought I saw you breathing
Oh the glory that the Lord has made
And the complications when I see his face
In the morning in the window
Oh the glory when he took our place
But he took my shoulders and he shook my face
And he takes and he takes and he takes.
Stevens is singing about how God has taken away his beloved friend. For no good reason. He sees God in the window and doesn't know what to think of this deity. Stevens, a Christian, is struggling.
Well, who wouldn't? After all, many of us have been there. We've been either the victim or the witness of some nonsensical tragedy. We can at least understand when someone suffers for having injured another person, even if it makes us uneasy. But when someone suffers or dies for little or no reason, like losing a battle with cancer, we have great difficulty. This doesn't seem to harmonize with the God we know. We don't like it.
And maybe we shouldn't. After all, does a distant, passionless deity pulling the strings really seem like an adequate image of God? Is that the God found in Scripture? I, for one, am wary of a God who coldly gives and takes on a whim. God may indeed be all-powerful, and we should submit ourselves to God's will, but our God is not in a competition to show us the divine's dominating power. That is unsuitable for the Christian God.
For many, including myself, an aloof, passionless, calculating deity is not adequate. And theologians such as Elizabeth Johnson and Edward Schillebeeckx have reminded us that God does not will suffering. For unwarranted suffering is often a mystery. It doesn't make sense, no matter how hard we try to understand.
The truth is, there's no good answer to the question of unwarranted suffering and death. But there is another way of looking at it. And that different perspective is that God is suffering with us. That is, God suffers in solidarity with humankind.
After all, our God revealed in Jesus was unjustly tried, beaten and executed. And this Jesus revealed to us in the resurrection that God desires nothing less than the full human flourishing of each of us. So God suffers with us for now. But God intends to take away our suffering and empower us to heal, grow strong and live again.
To paraphrase St. Irenaeus of Lyons, one of the early church fathers, the glory of God is the human being fully alive. This reminds us that our God is concerned with ordinary men and women and seeks to keep us close. This God is our Lord but also our friend. This God of Jesus Christ is our loving father and mother.
God suffers with us. Which means that this Living God does not will our suffering. The Almighty is opposed to it and works for healing and reconciliation. This Holy Mystery, who is both in the world and utterly beyond the world, has chosen to suffer with us. This God calls us to place our suffering on the cross along with his. And, like the early disciples, we do this in light of the hope of the Resurrection.
Sufjan Stevens' song hits home. He reminds me that nonsensical tragedies are part of life. But, more importantly, he reminds me that we have to learn how to live again in their aftermath. We won't forget. But our memories and our futures will be transformed by God's grace. We'll see the possibility of new life emerge.
For God's suffering means that we're not alone. Not ever. Even in our most desperate moment of isolated suffering. For our God has been revealed as Emmanuel, "God with us." The resurrection reminds us of this. It was God's answer to Jesus' cry from the cross.
God's answer may often be strange. And it may not make complete sense. But God's love abides. And God will never leave us alone. While we pick up the pieces, God suffers with us.
And that should give us hope.
— — —
Kevin Considine is a graduate student at Catholic Theological Union in Chicago, the largest Roman Catholic school of theology and ministry in North America. He is married to a most wonderful woman who keeps him in line and makes sure his thoughts make sense. He and his wife live on the South Side of Chicago. He welcomes comments, feedback or fits of anger and can be reached at {email considkp@yahoo.com}considkp@yahoo.com{/email}. © Copyright 2007 by Kevin Considine.
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