-->
In Dostovesky’s The
Brothers Karamozov, one of the characters, Ivan,
cannot reconcile suffering with goodness. He relates life to water in a cup with a belief that before the age of thirty there would be enough life left where the goodness in his life would overshadow the suffering in the world, but that at the age of thirty he would be sure to fling the cup down as his youth would be overtaken and the injustice and suffering in the world would be too much to bear. He’s ready to accept there’s a
harmony in God’s justice and the suffering of the world, but he can’t accept
it. Ivan struggles in his inability to understand God, saying,
"I accept God and am glad to, and what's
more, I accept His wisdom, His purpose which are utterly beyond our
ken; I believe in the underlying order and the meaning of life; I
believe in the eternal harmony in which they say we shall one day be
blended. I believe in the Word to Which the universe is striving, and
Which Itself was 'with God,' and Which Itself is God and so on, and so
on, to infinity. There are all sorts of phrases for it. I seem to be on
the right path, don't I'? Yet would you believe it, in the final result
I don't accept this world of God's, and, although I know it exists, I
don't accept it at all. It's not that I don't accept God, you must
understand, it's the world created by Him I don't and cannot accept.
Let me make it plain. I believe like a child that suffering will be
healed and made up for, that all the humiliating absurdity of human
contradictions will vanish like a pitiful mirage, like the despicable
fabrication of the impotent and infinitely small Euclidian mind of man,
that in the world's finale, at the moment of eternal harmony, something
so precious will come to pass that it will suffice for all hearts, for
the comforting of all resentments, for the atonement of all the crimes
of humanity, of all the blood they've shed; that it will make it not
only possible to forgive but to justify all that has happened with men-
but thought all that may come to pass, I don't accept it. I won't
accept it. Even if parallel lines do meet and I see it myself, I shall
see it and say that they've met, but still I won't accept it. That's
what's at the root of me, Alyosha; that's my creed. I am in earnest in
what I say. I began our talk as stupidly as I could on purpose, but
I've led up to my confession, for that's all you want. You didn't want
to hear about God, but only to know what the brother you love lives by.
And so I've told you" (Dostovesky 203).
-->
Ivan returns the 'ticket' God has
given to him in His mercy and grace, as he has become so focused on the role
suffering plays in serving for justice, failing to consider the “pouring out of
the cup” as a sacrificial act of love. The Gospel of Mark points to the fact
that Jesus came not to live a life of comfort, but a life of service,
sacrifice, love, and to die an incredibly gruesome death at the hands of his
enemies; illuminating the role this sacrifice and suffering has in the
redemption of humankind as a necessary means for resurrection. Sacrifice does
not solve the problem of evil, but rather gives purpose to suffering as a way
to transcend the power evil has placed upon the many through the confines of
agape - selfless, sacrificial love.
Consider the hypothetical story
Ivan tells at one point in which a noble man’s dog is hurt by a young boy. The young boy is
then stripped, and set to run through the field only to have the noble man let
loose his dogs to devour the boy right in front of his mother’s eyes. This
story is both gruesome, and incredibly irritating as the boy is not only
completely innocent, and doesn’t deserve to die, but even worse is the fact
that his mother watches him, as he is mutilated, humiliated, and killed in cold
blood. Ivan’s natural inclination, as well as even Alyosha’s, his monastic
brother, is to enact retribution on the noble man - to have the noble man
receive adequate justice for his actions. Just as the boy is so innocently
killed, and unrightfully suffers, does Ivan see God’s justice as flawed,
as Ivan punctuates, “when
everything cries out what is just, thou art just, but what pulls me up here is
that I can’t accept it and while there’s time I won’t” in regards to God’s “free”
ticket of grace, and mercy.
Yet, while we sympathize with the
boy and mother, and scorn the noble man, Jesus tells his disciples in Mark 9, “If
anyone would be first, he must be last of all and servant of all.” And he
took a child and put him in the midst of them, and taking him in his arms, he
said to them, ‘Whoever receives one such child in my name receives me, and
whoever receives me, receives not me but him who sent me.” And again, in Mark
10, “Truly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a
child shall not enter it.” There is an interesting parallel between the young
boy so innocently killed, and what Jesus is noting in his disciples becoming
like children to enter the Kingdom of God. Before the distinction is drawn, we
must consider what is meant by “the Kingdom of God.”
Jesus declares, “truly I say to
you, some of you will not taste death until the kingdom of God will come in all
its power” (Mark 9:1). Here Jesus is predicting the end of an age, an end to an
age in the immediate future - an end to
the age of “the law,” welcoming an age of freedom, liberation, and redemption.
Isaiah 52 says, “you were sold for nothing, you will be redeemed without money,”
and in Mark 10, “But whoever would be great among you must be your servant, and
whoever would be first among you must be slave of all. For even the Son of Man
came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”
If the Kingdom of God did come in all its power, one can make the claim that
the cross itself is the Kingdom of God.
The cross is both powerful and
emancipating. It no longer becomes
about justice, the trial, or the grievances of suffering; except it becomes
everything about justice, the trial and the grievances of suffering, in so far
as Jesus came not into this world to fill his cup, but to pour it out, “And he
took a cup, and when he had given thanks he gave it to them, and they all drank
of it. And he said to them, “This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured
out for many” (Mark 14:23-24). So too does Jesus make the reference to his cup,
as life in the Garden of Gethsemane. Deep in prayer, and affliction, feeling
the weight of the sins of the World bearing down upon His soul Jesus cries out,
“Abba, Father, all things are possible for you. Remove this cup from me. Yet
not what I will, but what you will” (Mark 14:36). It is in this moment of great
affliction of agony, and sorrow, when Jesus proclaims, not my will, but yours.
It’s this act of selfless sacrifice that illuminates the redemption of
humanity.
Just like the young boy in Ivan’s
story was humiliated, tortured, and killed at the hands of his enemies with his
mother looking on, we know from John that Jesus’ mother also watched as her son
so innocently suffered at the hands of his enemies, “but standing by the cross
of Jesus was his mother” (John 19:25).
The power of the kingdom lies in this innocent, sacrificial suffering –
the suffering that the innocent young boy endures at the feet of his mother.
The death of the innocent cries out. Just as the young boy was so innocently
killed, so too was Jesus. Jesus, a man incapable of sin, came to suffer for the
multitude of sins, and yet, there is evil in the world and the young boy still
suffers at the hands of his enemies. How can this be reconciled?
If Ivan so much sympathizes for the
young boy, and finds anger in his death, so too must he sympathize for Jesus,
and see his death as unjust. Yet Jesus came not into this world so that we
might have no suffering in the world, but to pour out his cup so that we may be
liberated in our suffering. Jesus continually points to the fact that in order
to inherit the kingdom, a man must become a servant, and put himself last, to
become like a child – innocent, much like the boy. Part of this innocence and
servitude is the notion that a servant cannot be greater than his master; if
they persecuted Jesus, then surely his followers would be persecuted as well.
Drawing from John 16:33, Jesus recognizes that his disciples will in fact
experience great suffering and great sorrow, “in the world you will have many
troubles; take heart, for I have conquered the world.” It is in this suffering
and sorrow that Jesus has liberated us. Jesus comes to pour out his cup, and
spill his blood not for fulfillment in this world, but so we may have eternal
life. It no longer becomes about the law in
enacting justice with an over-fixation on a just, merciful God. The power of
the Kingdom of God transcends that.
Christ’s challenge is radical in
that he is calling us, much like Ivan, and even the young boy to meet him in
our suffering, knowing that he will be with us until the end of this age into
the next. Ivan represents our very human nature in our lack of faith, giving
into the fear of evil. In rejecting the ticket, Ivan sheds light on his lack of
faith in God’s love of giving His one and only son for humanity’s redemption.
Ivan feels the weight and burden of the suffering and pain of the world – the
weight that was taken off his shoulders, and bore by Jesus on the cross.
Yet Mark’s Gospel ends with
silence, rather than praise, as a young man tells the women at the tomb to go
out and tell the people that Jesus has risen, “’
But go, tell his disciples and
Peter that he is going before you to Galilee. There you will see him, just as
he told you. ’And they went out and fled from the tomb, for trembling and
astonishment had seized them, and they said nothing to anyone, for they were
afraid” (Mark 16:7-8). Those three women didn’t see Jesus, and either do we or
Ivan.
There is trauma, and fear in
the coming of the Kingdom, yet a sort of paralyzing ecstasy displayed only in
silence. As hard as it is to grasp, Mark is calling us to enjoin ourselves to
the suffering of the innocent child, enjoin ourselves to the suffering of
Christ, for in this innocent suffering we are reminded we are not of this world.
Christ’s suffering, again, is meant not to liberate and free us from suffering
in this world, but give us life in the world to come. Like Ivan, we cannot
always understand the ways of God, yet Mark raises the point that one can live
either in fear and silence of the power of the kingdom of God - the cross in
its foreboding display of suffering as a necessary means for the redemption of
the world- or be set free and resurrected in its magnificent life-giving power.
Set free to in the love of Christ in his taking on humanity’s sins so that we
may have
eternal life. Set free in agape. Set free in faith.
Faith and Love,
Dylan