The call to shepherd God’s sheep is, among other things, a call to walk with them through the valley of the shadow of death. The truth is we all will spend a considerable portion of our lives in that valley. Suffering is inevitable in the Christian experience. Jesus predicted it (Mark 8:31), then he endured it (Hebrews 12:2), and now all believers are promised it (1 Peter 2:21). As D. A. Carson says, “all we have to do is live long enough, and we will suffer.”[1] In this turbulent and broken world, our lives are marked by trial, heartache, and disappointment.
So, the question before us is not will we suffer but rather, will we suffer well? The mark of a Christian is not whether we suffer, but how. When trials come, will we endure in a way that glorifies God? As believers in Christ, we have a glorious future: the sure hope of resurrection and eternity in the presence of God in the new heavens and new earth. On this basis, we can affirm with Paul, even in the face of the most difficult trials, “We do not lose heart.” (2 Corinthians 4:16) The hope of every believer undergirds our theology of suffering and fuels our perseverance.
Both the inevitability of suffering and the call to suffer well inform our work as shepherds and church leaders. We must prepare our people for the unavoidable hardships in the space between the turbulent present and our glorious future. Ministry in small places is certainly not exempt from trials and tragedies. If anything, small towns have a way of magnifying suffering. A community tragedy can send ripples of heartache through our flock, while personal trials quickly become public. Consequently, small towns also have a way of multiplying the opportunities we have as believers to point to our hope in Christ.
So, even while we seek to ensure that we are prepared to endure suffering faithfully ourselves, we must be preparing to lead others through the valley of the shadow of death. The rock-solid promises of God’s Word are sufficient to sustain us and they are ours to proclaim – especially in seasons of heartache and trial. But we must also possess a practical and pastoral theology of suffering.
To that end, I want to suggest six practical (and pastoral) principles for the work of shepherding the flock through seasons of suffering.
1. PRESENCE. This is Pastoral Theology 101; it’s the “ministry of presence.” We could trace the theme of presence throughout the Scriptures – most notably, God’s presence with his people. At the very heart of the gospel is God’s movement toward the sinner, the broken, the sufferer, the mourner. He comes, he seeks, he pursues his people. Most climactically, Jesus, the God-man, came to dwell among us in the flesh.
So, as his people, the body of Christ, we must understand the importance of presence in the face of suffering. Even without opening our mouths, especially before opening our mouths, we need to be there – a quiet, steady presence. A soft shoulder to cry on. A gentle arm around the mourner’s back. A warm hand to hold. Compassionate eyes. Listening ears. We need to be present.
2. PAUSE. Slightly less obvious than the ministry of presence is the principle of pause. Specifically, I mean that we need to put a halt to our speech. Or, if I were less interested in alliteration, I would put it this way: we need to show up, but we also need to shut up. We need to be present, but we do not need to preach. People dealing with pain and suffering need to be able to tell their story far more than hearing yours.
We’re more similar to Job’s friends than we’d like to admit. We tend to fill the silence of grief, moving too quickly to exhortation. Too often, our words – well-intended as they may be – are more painful than helpful.[2] Better a little awkward silence than the multiplication of grief through our counsel. So, before you speak, pause.
3. PRAYER. Sometime after showing up and shutting up, it’s good and right to speak up in prayer. We instinctively know how to ask God to provide in times of need – for healing, comfort, peace. But we also must learn to pray for others (and free others to pray for themselves) using the language of their grief. The biblical category is lament.[3] David models this for us in Psalm 13:1-2: “How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I take counsel in my soul and have sorrow in my heart all the day?” We desperately need to recover the language of lament so that we might enter the darkness of others’ suffering in order eventually to bring them into the light of God’s truth.
4. PATIENCE. It’s a bit paradoxical: helping others through pain and suffering requires us to be present, but it also requires space and time. Situational wisdom must dictate when the wounds need a healing balm and when they just need to air out. Either way, the operative principle is patience. Grief is not like clockwork. We ought to concern ourselves less with the timing and duration of another’s mourning and more with serving them well in it – however long it takes. Joseph Bayly writes, “Time heals grief; love prevents scar tissue from forming.”[4] As shepherds, we’re committed to our sheep for the long-haul, not merely for this season of suffering. They’re not projects to be completed or checkboxes to mark off on our ministry to-do list. They are God’s sheep entrusted to our care. Our charge is to love them well, wisely, and patiently.
5. PEN. An often overlooked tool of the shepherd, the pen can be used effectively for encouragement and comfort for suffering saints. A handwritten letter, note, or card is another way to be present in the lives of those who are hurting. There’s something about handwriting – even if sloppy and difficult to read – that is personal and intimate.[5] The time required to write thoughtful sentiments (hand cramps and all) is a worthwhile investment in the recipient’s healing that signals your care and concern even between visits and calls.
6. PRACTICAL HELP. Gospel-motivated benevolence has been a hallmark of the body of Christ from the beginning.[6] Since physical needs have a way of piling up in times of suffering, the Church must be well-prepared to step into action. But even our willingness to help in practical ways can be a burden to sufferers if not employed wisely. We should take the responsibility upon ourselves to determine and anticipate what specific needs we can meet. Instead of saying, “Let me know if there’s anything I can do…”, we can say, “I noticed you might need this. Would it be alright if I helped in this way?” We can’t always relieve the burden of suffering or grief, but by seeking to carry physical burdens, we are both serving our brothers and sisters and bringing glory to God.
As Christians, we have a guaranteed and glorious future in Christ. Every trial, every burden, every heartache, and every pain will be worth it all when we see Jesus face to face. We must plant that truth deep into our hearts so that it bears fruit in our lives, especially in our suffering. And as shepherds of God’s flock, we must always seek to bring the precious promises of God to bear as we practically and pastorally help others navigate the winding road from the pain and heartaches of this life to our promised hope in Christ.
For more information about Small Town Summits, including upcoming Summits, click here.
Andy Rice
Andy is the President of the Berkshire Institute for Christian Studies in Lenox, MA, a college-level discipleship program for young adults. Prior to that, he served for nine years as the senior pastor of Faith Evangelical Church in Melrose, MA. He’s a graduate of Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary. Andy and his wife, Carrie, have three sons and one daughter.
[1] D. A. Carson, How Long, O Lord? Reflections on Suffering and Evil (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2006), 16.
[2] Nancy Guthrie’s book, What Grieving People Wish You Knew about What Really Helps (and What Really Hurts) (Wheaton: Crossway, 2106) is a tremendously helpful resource and specifically helps us to think through what is helpful (and unhelpful) to say in times of suffering.
[3] As many have noted, nearly a third of the Psalms are laments. See Mark Vroegop, Dark Clouds, Deep Mercy: Discovering the Grace of Lament (Wheaton: Crossway, 2019).
[4] Joseph Bayly, The View from a Hearse: a Christian View of Death (Bloomington: Clearnote Press, 1992), 44. I commend this book highly as a resource for understanding the perspective of a griever.
[5] Consider that the Apostle Paul picked up the pen himself to close many of his letters (cf. 1 Cor. 16:21; Gal. 6:11; Col. 4:18, 2 Thess. 3:17, etc.).
[6] Cf. Acts 2:44-45; 4:32-37; 5:1-11; 6:1-7; Gal. 6:10.