I wish to focus my analysis paper on the central chapter in The Problem of Pain. C.S. Lewis spends five chapters laying the groundwork for a direct discussion of human pain. He introduces the problem (chapter 1), then discusses divine omnipotence (chapter 2), divine goodness (chapter 3), human wickedness (chapter 4), and the fall of man (chapter 5). Finally in chapter six he deals directly with the mystery of human suffering. He neatly summarizes the previous chapters as he begins Chapter 6: "I have tried to show in a previous chapter that the possibility of pain is inherent in the very existence of a world where souls can meet (p. 86)". I agree with him. Pain is a possibility because of God's goodness and because of human wickedness. God was good enough to give us free will and we are wicked enough to abuse this gift. Pain is a possibility because we inhabit a world where free-will agents encounter one another in a common environment. My reasoning is as follows:
To exclude the possibility of pain is to exclude the possibility of choiceI accept that pain exists and that pain is an integral and necessary part of God's economy. Chapter six focuses on the redemptive qualities of pain. These are arguments that interest me.
This past week we sang a new hymn in morning church. This hymn was written just last week by Carl P. Daw, Jr. and is called "When Sudden Terror Tears Apart". When sudden terror tears apart the world we thought was ours, I accept these words as an appropriate Christian response to the terrorist bombings. They reflect my own response. I include the words to this hymn because they illustrate four arguments presented in chapter six of The Problem of Pain. In each of the four arguments that follow, I will use (1) words of C.S. Lewis, (2) lines from the hymn as a specific response to the terrorist tragedy, and (3) an example from my own life. Argument 1 -- In chapter six, Lewis points out "Until the evil man finds evil unmistakably present in his existence, in the form of pain, he is enclosed in illusion (p. 93)". Pain shatters our illusion that all is well, not just for evil men, but for all men. This thought is reflected in the first line of the hymn "terror tears apart the world we thought was ours." Pain forces us to confront evil in its purest form. All is NOT well. We cannot deny evil in the presence of suffering such as the terrorist bombings. The events of September 11 have roused all Americans out of a national dream that "all is well". Last year I suffered from an abscessed tooth. While waiting one week for a scheduled root canal, my pain was at moments unbearable. In moments of excruciating pain all I could do is pray. I could not deny the evil of pain. I held no illusions that all was well. To shout out in pain, "Where is God?" is to presuppose that there is a God to whom such a question is asked. Sometimes this shouting is a first step out of materialistic illusion. Argument 2 -- Lewis further points out in chapter six, "If the first and lowest operation of pain shatters the illusion that all is well, the second shatters the illusion that what we have, whether good or bad in itself, is our own and enough for us (p. 94)". This is the illusion of self-sufficiency. The second line of the hymn reflects this shattering of self-sufficiency when "we find how fragile strength can be, how limited our powers". In time of personal pain we instinctively seek out the company of others. After the bombings, people comforted one another. As my own father lie dying in pain, we two were drawn together for his last days. I read him scripture as he suffered. My whole family drew closer together. My father's death in 1977 spurred on his six children to hold yearly family reunions. These have been a blessing for all who attend them. This evil pain led to a complex good. Argument 3 -- Lewis points out a third operation of suffering. He says "The full acting out of the self's surrender to God therefore demands pain (p. 98)". Lewis argues that we cannot know that we are working for God and not for ourselves unless the action is contrary to our inclinations and is therefore painful. In this world of sin -- in the midst of a fallen humanity -- to do good is contrary to our nature and often painful. The "anguished cries that pierced the ash-filled air" referred to in the hymn included the cries of many heroes. Over 300 policemen and firemen gave their lives for what was good. Many more heroes suffered physical pain. Those who ran away did not suffer pain, but pain was the product of those acting in self-surrender. The correct choice is often the painful choice. It is financially painful for me to give money to the church. It is painfully inconvenient for me to accompany my wife as she shops in mall. It is painful for me as I push the pedals of my bicycle going up hill. Yet I know that all these things are the right things to do. I would be more inclined to keep my own money, to stay home while my wife shops, and to drive to work rather than bike in. Partly because these activities are difficult, I know that they are spiritually profitable. Our perfect example is Jesus Christ who surrendered his will to his Father and suffered the pain of crucifixion. My own daily trials are trivial in comparison. Argument 4 -- There is an overarching argument in both chapters 6 and 7, suggesting that suffering draws us closer to God. Cosmic pain causes us to ask the cosmic questions. Lewis calls this cosmic pain "the whole tribulation system." He says that "tribulations cannot cease until God either sees us remade or sees that our remaking is now hopeless (p. 107)". There are countless examples of this redemptive pain in the Old Testament. In Malachi, the prophet says "And he shall sit as a refiner and purifier of silver: and he shall purify the sons of Levi, and purge them as gold and silver, that they may offer unto the LORD an offering in righteousness. (3:3)" The Psalms are full of God becoming most real in a time of tribulation. Job is a story of drawing closer to God through suffering. Lewis adds that "the vale of soul making" is doing its work through pain (p. 109). This purifying and soul making is apparent in Daw's hymn. The last three stanzas are a call for God to draw closer "as near as breath". The kyrie referred to in the hymn is a call for help and for mercy. In times of pain God becomes our refuge, our shelter, our hiding place. Our Lord Jesus also teaches tribulation in this life. Just as God is the husbandman, and Christ is the true vine, we as Christians are branches in His vine. God cuts off dead branches, but even the fruit-yielding branches he prunes back (Ouch! A painful process). God inflicts this pain that we may bear more fruit (John 15:5 / another complex good?). We have the same two options that Lewis outlines above. First, we will be pruned back (remade). Otherwise, we will be cut off and burned in the fire (our remaking is hopeless). Those are the only two options. Both are painful, but only the later is eternally painful. I wish that I could be close to God moment by moment, but I am not. I recognize that in my own life I am closest to God in times of suffering. I see the mountain tops only when I walk through the valley. In times of heightened joy, I whisper my thanks to God. In times of heightened pain, I shout for mercy. Maybe C.S. Lewis overstates his case in calling pain a megaphone to rouse my soul. But maybe not. I can state emphatically that the painful bombings on September 11 caused an national upsurge in both prayer and church attendance. May the final lines in Daw's hymn also be my response to the painful events of September 11: "Rekindle in our hearts the hope of life that conquers death." |