Just before Lent this year, I sat down to think about what I might engage as a Lenten practice to no avail. When people asked me about what I was doing for Lent, I vaguely gestured at the world around me and said I hadn’t yet figured it out because, “wasn’t the world already Lent-y enough right now?” Somehow after all these years, I still must remind myself to undo a subconscious teaching I picked up in my youth that Lent is somehow about suffering for suffering’s sake. Not quite true, as it turns out.

Suffering abounds in our local communities, our countries, and across the world. This collective suffering feels more proximate and pressing than it has at any other point in my 30 years of life, though I know that this kind of suffering is not in itself new. I don’t have any good explanations for this suffering (nor does anybody, I don’t think) but I find consolation in the journey of Jesus to the cross. It shows me that Jesus is not a stranger to suffering. 

Jesus gave us a model of engagement with suffering (his own and that of others) that offers insight for peacemaking. We see him mentally and emotionally suffering first: in the garden of Gethsemane he becomes distressed, praying to God that he will do what is necessary but if there is any other way to fulfill God’s will, he would prefer that. As he says, “the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.” (Matthew 22:41) Meanwhile, he’s asked his disciples to stay awake with him in the garden, and they repeatedly fall asleep. He grows increasingly irritated, compounding the emotional suffering he is already navigating in prayer. Further, he suffers betrayal by Judas.

It is significant that Jesus was not simply taken out under cover of night by an assassin – he was condemned to death in an intentionally humiliating, public way. Even more, crucifixion is a slow, torturous death of suffocation. After all, the word “excruciating” comes from the practice of crucifixion. Again: Jesus is not a stranger to suffering.

What then, is the invitation about suffering for us this Lent and beyond? First, when we experience suffering in our own lives, it is a worthwhile reminder that followers of Jesus believe in a God who intimately knows the experience of suffering. Second, and more difficult, we must intentionally draw near to the suffering of others. We can rarely remedy the suffering of others – but we can bear witness to it. We can draw near, remain with, and resist the temptation to look away because it is hard. We can do our best to resist the fatigue that the disciples fell victim to in the garden. 

I have been working to bear witness to the stories of others, to come alongside them and be curious. I have also been working to allow others to come alongside me in my own experiences of suffering, and to bear witness to me. These practices, I think, are foundational steps in the work of peacemaking. Draw near. Stay with me. Remain with me.