100 Prison Meditations: Cries of Truth from Behind the Iron Curtain (2 page)

Why All the Suffering?

Reading the Bible in a solitary cell, from memory, I am struck by the extent to which suffering pervades it. It begins with the catastrophe of mankind’s expulsion from paradise, and it concludes with the majority of mankind entering hell.

Why do even saints have to suffer? Why is there suffering in the animal kingdom? Why is a baby born with suffering? Is suffering God’s only educational method? Why does evil exist? Why have Christians suffered for decades in Communist jails?

After dedicating forty years of his life to missionary work among the Australian aborigines, a pastor fell sick. He suffered greatly as he was being transported on primitive roads to the city and was barely able to breathe. He asked his family to sing and to read to him from the Bible. Finally he said, “Stop praising! I have served Him my whole life and He does not care for me.” He took the Bible from his wife’s hand and threw it into the bush. He could find no answer to the problem of suffering.

The only answer that I believe should be given is not to ask the question. Jesus, when He was on the cross, asked God why He had forsaken even His only begotten Son. His question is followed only by a question mark. All that is revealed to us is that the question exists and that we can live with it.

A sufferer once came to a pastor and asked him many questions. The pastor answered, “Kneel here in church and ask Jesus for the answers.” The man replied, “Do you really think I will hear a voice from heaven?” “No,” said the pastor, “but by keeping quiet in prayer for several hours before God, you will realize that you can go along without answers to all your problems. This would have been Jesus’ answer and it will quiet you.” You do not need more than His peace, which passes all understanding. You do not need both peace and understanding, for understanding presupposes qualifications that most of us do not have.

Paul writes about a man who was caught up into paradise, but he could not communicate to anyone about what he experienced because the words he heard in paradise were unspeakable words (2 Corinthians 12:2–4).

A legend says that Moses once sat near a well in meditation. A wayfarer stopped to drink from the well and when he did so his purse fell from his girdle into the sand. The man departed. Shortly afterwards another man passed near the well, saw the purse and picked it up. Later a third man stopped to assuage his thirst and went to sleep in the shadow of the well. Meanwhile, the first man had discovered that his purse was missing and, assuming that he must have lost it at the well, returned, awoke the sleeper (who of course knew nothing) and demanded his money back. An argument followed, and irate, the first man slew the latter. Whereupon Moses said to God, “You see, therefore men do not believe in You. There is too much evil and injustice in the world. Why should the first man have lost his purse and then become a murderer? Why should the second have gotten a purse full of gold without having worked for it? The third was completely innocent. Why was he slain?”

God answered, “For once and only once, I will give you an explanation. I cannot do it at every step. The first man was a thief’s son. The purse contained money stolen by his father from the father of the second, who, finding the purse, only found what was due him. The third was a murderer whose crime had never been revealed and who received from the first the punishment he deserved. In the future, believe that there is sense and righteousness in what transpires even when you do not understand.”

Faith in God is the sole answer to the mystery of evil.

Respect Poverty

In prison, I come to the lowest level of poverty. I possess nothing, which makes me look in a new light at this verse: “Do not rob the poor because he is poor, nor oppress the afflicted at the gate” (Proverbs 22:22).

Do not rob the poor of his only wealth, that precious jewel, poverty itself. St. Francis of Assisi spoke about
sorella poverta
, sister poverty. Ascetics and saints of all ages have abandoned earthly joys for this valuable friend. Moses preferred the poor life of a pastor to being grandson of Pharaoh. Christ, possessor of heaven, chose birth in a stable, life as a carpenter among oppressed people, and death among thieves on a cross. He said, “Blessed are you poor, for yours is the kingdom of God” (Luke 6:20).

By what right do I take away the source of a man’s blessedness? If I deprive him of poverty, I may deprive him of the kingdom of heaven. Imagine how it would have been had the rich man of the parable (Luke 16:19–31) been what is usually called goodhearted and divided with poor Lazarus his purple robes and fine linen, and invited him to dine sumptuously with him every day. He would have called Lazarus into future hell.

Poverty of the soul is the entryway to the kingdom of heaven. The ugly embryonic stage when we look like frogs is the prologue to manhood. Destroy a caterpillar because it is a repugnant worm and you will have destroyed the future butterfly. Taking away a man’s poverty, we take from him the source of eternal happiness.

But must we not help the poor? We surely must—by sharing his poverty, by demonstrating our regard for his high estate. Mother Theresa of Calcutta set an example. By our sharing the experience of his poverty, a poor man is given the sense of his dignity before God and other men, whereas a few pennies thrown to him degrade him.

We commonly confound the unpleasant with the bad. Poverty is unpleasant, but it is a Christian’s trial of love. What girl is not seduced into admiring a handsome boy who offers her rings and bracelets and cars and castles? Would she choose to live with that same young man in a humble cottage? It was easy for Job to love God with his family and cattle and gold secure. But what was the nature of his love? A trial had to be made in order to strengthen Job’s faith.

Before I went to prison, my own social and material situation was very comfortable. In moments of self-examination, I asked myself whether I really loved God or loved rather the many outward and inner gifts with which He had endowed me. Then, in solitary confinement, hungry, trembling for cold, without even shoes—then I could really check whether I loved God or His gifts. How I rejoice to discover that songs of praise flew from my lips under those circumstances! My faith had been tried.

Christians do not fear hunger and would not readily rob the poor man of this experience. For Jesus says even to the rich, who are familiar with black caviar and other dainties, “I have food to eat of which you do not know” (John 4:32). The angel Raphael supposedly said to Tobit in the apocryphal book of this name (12:19), “It seemed, truly, as if I ate and drank with you. But I used an invisible meat and a beverage which men cannot see.” The meat of the angels, of which men also can partake, consists in seeing God, in loving Him even in times of affliction, and in doing His will in all things. You cannot sit luxuriously in restaurants, listening to jazz music, being served by half-naked waitresses, and eating from an endless menu, and at the same time participate at the heavenly banquet. No one can have both worlds. Heavenly food is reserved for those who are hungry.

Kierkegaard spoke truly when he said, “To represent a man who by preaching Christianity has attained and enjoyed in the greatest measure all possible worldly goods and enjoyments, to represent him as a witness to the truth is as ridiculous as to talk about a maiden who is surrounded by her numerous troop of children” (
Attack Against Christendom
).

After years of preaching, a pastor should be poorer than before he began his ministry.

Our God is that of the narrow gate and of the needle’s eye. If, because of your social position you are not among the hungry, this is a simple matter to remedy: you can fast. But do not rob the poor of poverty. Do not rob the hungry of heavenly manna. Your well-intentioned acts of philanthropy can be robberies.

Right Attitude Toward Poverty

It is our greed, our idolatry of money, that makes us equate poverty with unhappiness. The correct attitude of a well-to-do Christian toward a poor one is not pity, but rather envy or emulation. Although you might have more bread than your poor brother, and butter and anchovies upon your bread, “man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word of God” (Luke 4:4). The poor man has a privilege which you do not: Jesus has been sent to preach the gospel to the poor (Luke 4:18); only a poor man can fully hear the message. Rich men hear only a watered-down gospel delivered by pastors who have never hungered or fasted, who are rich or would like to be so.

Such pastors do not wish to lose their rich contributors and preach to them from the gospel only so much as will not give offense. They never tell their rich parishioners that they have as much chance to enter the kingdom of heaven as a camel to enter through a needle’s eye—in other words, that their whole religion is in vain.

I repeat the question from the preceding meditation: Should we not help the poor? Surely we should, but on one condition—not to rob him of his previous poverty.

The way to help the poor is to follow Jesus’ example and become poor like them.

We read in the Hebrew book
Shemen ha tov
how Rabbi Havyim Auerbach of Launtzitz was once petitioned by a shoemaker who had no wood to heat the room in which his wife and newborn infant lay. The rabbi immediately awakened a wealthy neighbor. The rich man invited the rabbi to come in, but the rabbi said he preferred to speak outside. It was bitter cold and the rich man had to stand shivering on the street and talk with the rabbi for a long time. At last the rabbi mentioned the shoemaker’s plight and said, “Now that you have felt the cold yourself, you will know what to do.” The rich man brought wood to the shoemaker’s family, dragging it there himself in a wheelbarrow. Whoever has not felt the noose about his own neck cannot know the situation of someone who is in deadly danger.

No welfare state or philanthropic millionaire can replace the charitable works done long ago by monks and nuns who had taken vows of poverty. These people, some of them former members of the upper class, gathered the poor into the first hospitals, homes for aged people, and orphanages. They descended in reality and in spirit to the level of those whom they strove to help, and truly loved their neighbors as themselves. Embracing poverty for themselves, they could appreciate its value for others. The aged, the cripples, and the poor were helped not only with bread, but also by being brought to regard as a privilege what they had until then seen as a handicap.

In the United States and other countries there are now so many poverty programs which do not work. St. Francis of Assisi’s program worked. He became poor and influenced many rich men to give away their money, not in heavily borne taxation, but in jubilating love.

There are diverse ways of giving help. I read that natives of Portuguese colonies, when they were sick, passed by the state hospitals and traveled many miles further to a Christian hospital. When asked why, since the state hospitals were as well equipped and gave the same treatment as the Christian ones, the natives answered: “Yes, the treatment is the same, but the hands are not the same.” It is only the empty hand that can caress.

“Do not…oppress the afflicted at the gate” (Proverbs 22:22). “Jesus also, that He might sanctify the people with His own blood, suffered outside the gate” (Hebrews 13:12). Jesus longed to arrive at Golgotha to fulfill the salvation of mankind. But in those days everyone, even executioners with victims, were stopped at the gates to answer questions, to show their papers. I too have seen it. It is not easy to be taken outside a prison gate, not even for an execution. The executioner knocks at the gate; the guard looks suspiciously through the peephole, then checks the written order. So it was also in times before.

Those who belong to Jesus are so happy to bear afflictions for His sake; do not stop them at the gates to question them, to slow down their heroic march toward self-sacrifice by offering them pardons or conditions. By doing this you further oppress the afflicted ones who glory in their afflictions for Christ’s sake.

A Christian must so conduct himself that his children will joyfully say like Jacob, “God of my father” (Genesis 32:9). Jacob had ancestors of whom he could boast. Abraham had left the highly civilized Ur of Chaldee, living as a stranger in a barren land in order to be free to worship God as he knew best. Isaac was ready as a child to magnify God by his death. Such men should not be robbed of the afflictions that promise them an eternal weight of glory.

Affliction has its difficulties. Often you are overcome by despair and feel God has hidden His face from you. But then you realize that it has only been for sport, like play with a child. You seek Him, find Him again, God and you, both exhilarated, both open wide with joy.

There is a deep teaching in the Talmud: “Before a man eats and drinks, he has two hearts.” He feels both his own hunger and another’s. Once he has eaten and drunk, he remains with only one heart, with thought only for his own comfort.

Instead of robbing the poor of poverty and the afflicted of the affliction which will constitute his future glory, see that you yourself are among the men with two hearts.

Untruthfulness in Biblical Personalities

We cannot tell the Communist interrogators the straight truth about our church activity. If we were to give frank replies to all their questions, more arrests would follow. We remember Rebecca used an immoral ruse to give Jacob the blessing normally due to Esau as first-born (Genesis 27). The ethical value of an action is judged not only by its accordance with certain moral rules, but also by its long-range results.

If Rebecca had not done this, Isaac would have given the blessing to Esau. Perhaps Esau’s descendants then would have been the chosen people instead of the Jews. Some savage would have had to try to become the Savior of the world. Wild men would have been the holy prophets.

What catastrophe if Rebecca and Jacob had not cheated and lied in that one circumstance! Their behavior—right or wrong—was part of God’s plan. Isaac’s sight had grown weak so that Jacob might be mistaken for Esau and receive the blessing.

Obviously to take such action even in exceptional circumstances is a dangerous choice. Others will justify their selfish deceits by holding up what you have done for holy motives as an example.

The Midrash, a Jewish commentary, says: “Jacob later married Rachel, but on the marriage night, Laban, her father, substituted Leah, a girl whom Jacob disliked (Genesis 29:23–25). In the morning, he saw he had been cheated and told Leah, ‘During the night, I call you so often, “Rachel,” and you answered. Why did you deceive me?’ She said, ‘Your father called you “Esau” and you pretended to be your brother. You deceived your father. No teacher is without a disciple. I have learned from you.’”

We must be aware of this danger but Christians cannot altogether forego the serpent’s wisdom.

Can a Christian be a police inspector, an undercover agent, a diplomat, or an officer in war without using ruses?

How could the underground church survive in countries where there is persecution if it did not follow Rebecca’s example? Such strategies are shocking because they are the exception to the Christian rule of complete truthfulness.

Words are spoken for various purposes other than for communicating truth. Sometimes they serve self-defense, like the words of Paul, “I have done nothing against our people or the customs of our fathers” (Acts 28:17). In 1 Thessalonians 2:14–16, Paul had burst out against the Jews, and he had also done more than trespass against certain customs. He had nullified an essential part of Jewish law when he declared circumcision of no value. But now he was in danger of death. In such cases, in moments of crisis, words have to be the servants of another master than truth.

Old Testament Joseph said, “I was stolen away from the land of the Hebrews” (Genesis 40:15). This was not the fact, but we can appreciate his desire to cover up the sin of his brothers who had sold him as a slave.

Let us have in view the many sides of human life when we judge the ethics both of biblical personalities and of our fellow men.