As we begin the season of Lent, when we can more closely contemplate Christ’s passion and death, we have an opportunity to reflect on how Christ’s suffering helps us understand the suffering we face in our lives. 

The value of suffering can be summed up in the phrase omnia in bonum, meaning “all things work together for the good” — a truth drawn from St. Paul’s words in Romans 8:28. Of course, the most striking example of this is the passion of Christ. Through his suffering, the entire human race has been redeemed. 

Physical pain is a constant in life, and our culture is obsessed with trying to alleviate all forms of pain, even to the point of creating addictions. We need to remember that pain becomes an occasion for a face-to-face encounter with the God who became man and “learned obedience through what he suffered,” thus becoming “the source of salvation for all who obey him” (Hebrews 5:8-9). Jesus embraced suffering and showed us that love can overcome every kind of suffering.  

In his apostolic letter Salvifici Doloris, Pope St. John Paul II writes:  

“Human suffering evokes compassion; it also evokes respect; and in its own way it intimidates. For in suffering is contained the greatness of a specific mystery [...] for man, in his suffering, remains an intangible mystery.” Suffering was also “an invitation to manifest the moral greatness of man, his spiritual maturity.”  

Today, the inability to cope with pain, physical or spiritual, stems from a culture that no longer understands the meaning of suffering. Those of us who are parents are often afraid to let our children come face-to-face with sacrifice. We are tempted to give them everything and to give it to them immediately. We think there will always be time for suffering later or we harbor the illusion that this time will never come for our kids. By doing so, we set them up for an even greater fall when suffering does come.  

Suffering need not be physical, of course. Our Lord suffered the betrayal of his closest friends. Judas Iscariot, of whom the Gospel of Matthew says, “It would be better for that man if he had never been born,” betrayed him for 30 pieces of silver. And Peter, the rock upon which the Church is built, denied him three times on Holy Thursday. Whether we experience it from our families, colleagues or friends, betrayal is part of our lives. But here, too, God will make all things good.  

Like Christ, we may feel abandoned. Whether it was in his solitude in the evening of Holy Thursday or while nailed to the cross, Our Lord was rejected by many of those who once crowded around him. There will be days when we are alone because people have intentionally separated themselves from us. But the suffering of solitude mustn’t turn into self-pity. Instead, it can inspire us to pray for those who once were at our side. 

I recently reread Hinds’ Feet on High Places by Hannah Hurnard with my youngest child. I’ve read it with each of my children when they were also about 8 years old. My mother — who converted to Catholicism when she was in high school — treasures the story. It’s an allegorical book about a young girl named Much Afraid, and her journey to the high places where the Good Shepherd hopes to lead her.  

Much Afraid has terrible relatives trying to stop her. Helping her are two traveling companions, named Sorrow and Suffering, given to her by the Good Shepherd. At the end of the story, Much Afraid arrives at the high places utterly transformed, earning the new name of Grace and Glory. Those companions also receive new names from the Shepherd when they reach their destination. Sorrow becomes Joy. And what do you think Suffering is called? It’s not “comfort.” It’s not “free from illness or disease.” It’s not “everything is going to be just perfect going forward.”  

No: Suffering’s new name is Peace.