Does Jesus Care About Your Suffering?

Does Jesus Care About Your Suffering? 

You don’t have to be a Christian to see that this world is riddled with suffering. You really don’t even have to be particularly wise or observant. From mass shootings to natural disasters to terrorism, it is clear that this world and the people in it are, in a sense, broken. Not only are there outward struggles and sufferings that we as humans deal with, but even within our own bodies we face physical and mental illnesses and injuries that we sometimes carry for a lifetime. Indeed, it seems at times that the majority of our lives is fighting without and fear within (2 Corinthians 5:5).  

As Christians we face a deep dilemma when it comes to suffering. In these trials, we who know God are forced to take a step back and question those truths that we hold so dearly; does God truly love us? Does He care about us? Does He have good plans for us? If so, where are His love and care and good plans in the midst of my suffering? One undeniable facet of facing suffering is that it makes us ponder what we know of God in a way that hours of mere theological musings or vain, intellectual conversations in your favorite coffee shop with a buddy could never do. Facing suffering as a Christian makes us step back and ask the question; does Jesus care about my suffering? And further, how can we ponder the character and works of God amidst our suffering in a way that builds our faith rather than destroys it? And in those times when we don’t even have it in us to think through these deeper things, how can we take comfort and hold on when it feels like we are drowning? 

I believe the answer that the Scriptures proclaim is that Jesus does indeed care deeply about our suffering and that He encourages us and gives us hope in suffering by calling us to consider who He is. Not merely to consider what He can do for us, not simply to imagine how He might turn our situation around, but by actually considering the person of Jesus. I know that at first glance this may look like the kind of empty theology mentioned before that offers no help in times of trial and suffering; but a turning of the mind towards Christ is the only way to reach down into the heart to steady it in the storm. Rather fittingly, one of the places where this is most clearly seen is in a story of intense pain and suffering; the story of the death of a man who was a beloved friend to some and brother to others, a man beloved by Jesus Himself. Let’s look together at John 11:1-46 (ESV). I know it’s a pretty long passage, but it’s REALLY important that you read it all the way through, seeing each word for yourself; thus I have included it below. 

1Now a certain man was ill, Lazarus of Bethany, the village of Mary and her sister Martha. 2 It was Mary who anointed the Lord with ointment and wiped his feet with her hair, whose brother Lazarus was ill. 3 So the sisters sent to him, saying, “Lord, he whom you love is ill.” 4 But when Jesus heard it he said, “This illness does not lead to death. It is for the glory of God, so that the Son of God may be glorified through it.” 

5 Now Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus. 6 So, when he heard that Lazarus was ill, he stayed two days longer in the place where he was. 7 Then after this he said to the disciples, “Let us go to Judea again.” 8 The disciples said to him, “Rabbi, the Jews were just now seeking to stone you, and are you going there again?” 9 Jesus answered, “Are there not twelve hours in the day? If anyone walks in the day, he does not stumble, because he sees the light of this world. 10 But if anyone walks in the night, he stumbles, because the light is not in him.” 

 11 After saying these things, he said to them, “Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep, but I go to awaken him.” 12 The disciples said to him, “Lord, if he has fallen asleep, he will recover.” 13 Now Jesus had spoken of his death, but they thought that he meant taking rest in sleep. 14 Then Jesus told them plainly, “Lazarus has died, 15 and for your sake I am glad that I was not there, so that you may believe. But let us go to him.” 16 So Thomas, called the Twin, said to his fellow disciples, “Let us also go, that we may die with him.” 

17 Now when Jesus came, he found that Lazarus had already been in the tomb four days. 18 Bethany was near Jerusalem, about two miles off, 19 and many of the Jews had come to Martha and Mary to console them concerning their brother. 20 So when Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went and met him, but Mary remained seated in the house. 21 Martha said to Jesus, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died. 22 But even now I know that whatever you ask from God, God will give you.” 23 Jesus said to her, “Your brother will rise again.” 24 Martha said to him, “I know that he will rise again in the resurrection on the last day.” 25 Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, 26 and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die. Do you believe this?” 27 She said to him, “Yes, Lord; I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God, who is coming into the world.” 

28 When she had said this, she went and called her sister Mary, saying in private, “The Teacher is here and is calling for you.” 29 And when she heard it, she rose quickly and went to him. 30 Now Jesus had not yet come into the village, but was still in the place where Martha had met him. 31 When the Jews who were with her in the house, consoling her, saw Mary rise quickly and go out, they followed her, supposing that she was going to the tomb to weep there. 32 Now when Mary came to where Jesus was and saw him, she fell at his feet, saying to him, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” 33 When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in his spirit and greatly troubled. 34 And he said, “Where have you laid him?” They said to him, “Lord, come and see.” 35 Jesus wept. 36 So the Jews said, “See how he loved him!” 37 But some of them said, “Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man also have kept this man from dying?” 

38 Then Jesus, deeply moved again, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone lay against it. 39 Jesus said, “Take away the stone.” Martha, the sister of the dead man, said to him, “Lord, by this time there will be an odor, for he has been dead four days.” 40 Jesus said to her, “Did I not tell you that if you believed you would see the glory of God?” 41 So they took away the stone. And Jesus lifted up his eyes and said, “Father, I thank you that you have heard me. 42 I knew that you always hear me, but I said this on account of the people standing around, that they may believe that you sent me.” 43 When he had said these things, he cried out with a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out.” 44 The man who had died came out, his hands and feet bound with linen strips, and his face wrapped with a cloth. Jesus said to them, “Unbind him, and let him go.” 

45 Many of the Jews therefore, who had come with Mary and had seen what he did, believed in him, 46 but some of them went to the Pharisees and told them what Jesus had done. 

This is a truly incredible story displaying the power of Jesus; power strong enough even to raise a man from the dead. But so often in our lives, we do not see a display of glory and love and power in the miraculous way that is shown here. How, then, may we be comforted by this passage? By observing that Jesus is not surprised by suffering, that Jesus is not indifferent to suffering, and finally that Jesus is Lord over suffering.  

Jesus Is Not Surprised by Suffering 

I can remember with terrible clarity the day I was told that a dear childhood friend of mine had passed away. I was about midway through science class when one of our guidance counselors popped her head in and called for me to come with her (what a mix of dread and delight that was; getting called down to the office is almost never good, but goodness, did I hate science!) She led me through the halls to a small office in which I found a few friends and my younger sister (all of whom were good friends with this young man) in tears or close to them. As I was looking around, trying to figure out what could possibly be going on to draw such an odd crowd in such an emotional state, the guidance counselor put her hand on my arm and told me, “Josiah, your friend, Gary, passed away in his sleep last night.”  

At first, I couldn’t process what I had been told. Who passed away? Couldn’t be my friend, Gary. Gary’s only 16 and 16-year-olds don’t just die in their sleep.  

She went on, “His parents found him this morning. I’m so sorry.”  

Next thing I knew, I was being led down a hall once again to the front entrance of the high school where I found my mother, waiting to take myself and my sister home. “It’s going to be okay,” she told me. That’s when it first hit home. That’s when the dam of understanding and emotion was finally broken in my mind and heart. I slammed my binder against the door, dropping it as I charged out, yelling, “NO IT’S NOT!” 

I simply couldn’t believe what I had learned. Couldn’t accept that such a thing could happen so close to me. Never in a million years did I expect that my young friend would be taken from the world so soon.  

2,000 years ago, another man got some bad news concerning a dear friend of his. And judging by His response, you may very well think that the news hadn’t hit Him quite yet either; that perhaps His seemingly over-confident exclamation was the result of shock or disbelief. But unlike my 17-year-old self, this God-man, this Creator Incarnate, this Jesus knew exactly what was going on and He knew exactly what He was saying. 

When the messengers arrived with news of Lazarus’ illness, take a look at Jesus’ response: it is not “oh no- will he be okay?” or “how long does he have?” like many of us would likely respond to the news. No, Jesus responds with a confident proclamation; “This illness does not lead to death. It is for the glory of God so that the Son of God may be glorified through it” (v.4). 

Now, for Mary and Martha to have called Jesus from afar to let Him know of Lazarus’ illness means that what ailed this beloved friend was more than a common cold. Indeed, Lazarus was ill to the point of being near death. But Mary and Martha had seen and heard about some pretty incredible things that had happened at the hands of Jesus. They knew that if He simply came and said a word, or laid a hand on their brother, that he would most certainly rise up out of his sick bed into perfect health. Or perhaps, having heard of the miraculous healing of the official’s son (John 4:46-53), they figured He would just perform a long-distance healing, sparing Lazarus the agonizing pain and suffering he would face waiting for Jesus’ physical arrival. Instead, what they got was a somewhat ambiguous statement about the purpose of the illness. Not only this, but rather than putting on a hustle, Jesus deliberately delayed, staying where He was for another two whole days. The reason for His delay? He loved them (see v. 5-6). We’ll come back to this in a minute. 

But for now, consider: Have you ever experienced this? Have you ever called out to God, asking for His love and assistance and felt as though He was giving you the cold shoulder? I can only imagine that Mary and Martha felt this way. I think they were probably confused, dealing with dashed hopes, maybe even feeling a little betrayed. 

After two days of waiting, Jesus finally hit the road, heading towards His suffering friends. While on the way, Lazarus died. And who do we learn this from, but Jesus Himself! 

He informs His disciples that Lazarus has “fallen asleep” but that He is going to awaken him (v. 11). His disciples, misunderstanding Him, ‘helpfully’ point out that if he is only sleeping, he’ll wake up on his own, maybe even feeling refreshed (v. 12). Jesus then makes abundantly clear what He means. “Lazarus has died and for your sake I am glad that I was not there, so that you might believe. But let us go to him” (v.14-15, emphasis mine). 

Once again, we see this same sentiment; Jesus claims that His delay in this situation (and consequentially Lazarus’ suffering and death) is actually a good thing, a thing which will benefit His disciples. He is claiming to delay out of love, for a good purpose. Here another string is added to the web of our understanding of Jesus’ knowledge and place in suffering. It is clear that all along, Jesus has been aware of what is going on minute-by-minute. However, here we see that not only does He know the goings on of the Lazarus-Martha-Mary household, but He has a plan in it all for the glory of His name. He is not surprised by the suffering of His dear friends or by your suffering today; He is sovereign in it. He sees it and He does indeed have a good plan in it to redeem this disaster. 

Perhaps this point is not all that comforting to you. After all, isn’t our question, “Does Jesus care about our suffering?” But instead of answering this question, we see that not only is He not surprised, but that He’s seen, allowed, and is using this awful, tragic thing. You may be thinking, if this is His caring, I’d hate to see His wrath! But don’t lose heart. We are not done with our story yet… 

Jesus Is Not Indifferent to Suffering 

It is very difficult for most of us to be around those who suffer. We may come across a friend or family member crying and get all nervous. Should I hug them? Should I try to comfort them? Should I speed-walk away before they see me? I’m sure we’ve all been on the other side of this as well. There we are, struggling through something, and we see our loved ones give us a deer-in-the-headlights look and “get a phone call” all of a sudden or, worse yet, come up and tell us that, “it’s not all that bad! There are definitely worse things that could happen, you’ll get through it!” While that may be true, that is, more often than not, going to damage further the broken heart rather than help to mend it. 

We as humans are imperfect counselors. Thought we may have good intentions, sometimes the words we speak do more harm than good to those who are suffering. But how does Jesus interact with His hurting loved ones? Let’s examine this together. 

Now keep in mind, Jesus not only knew about Lazarus’ illness and death, but it is clear that (SPOILER ALERT) He also knew that He was going to raise Lazarus from the dead. What might you do if you were Jesus, entering this situation knowing what you were about to do? I have a feeling some might stroll up with some major confidence and get right down to business. We might skip talking to our sad friends (why get all uncomfortable and awkward, right?) and just raise Lazarus and have him show up at their doorstep, alive and well. 

But that is not what the Hero of our story does, then or now. Though we might like to skip the discomfort of dealing with depression and skip right to the resolution, often some of the most powerful work of the Spirit happens in the sorrow, if we’ll only hear Jesus speaking to us. Jesus knows that it is in those times of heartbreak and trauma that our hearts are often more malleable and able to be taught in a deep and lasting way about who He is. Though it would be a lot more comfortable, easy, and fun for Jesus to simply raise Lazarus (or to have healed him earlier) Jesus cares far too much about His disciples to miss out on this opportunity to teach their hearts who He is. Now of course, sometimes the healing or the quick fix is what Jesus will use to teach us. But we can be assured in those times when there seems to be no end that He cares deeply for us and will be faithful to teach us to trust Him more. 

And so, as confidently as He faces every other situation, the Savior of the world comes to the city of Bethany where Mary and Martha and the body of Lazarus reside. Hearing that He has arrived, the sisters come to Him, one at a time. Let’s take a closer look at Jesus’ interactions with them. But first, let me just say that if you’re hoping that Jesus will provide an easy, pat answer to give those who are suffering, you will be disappointed. People are much too complicated (and Jesus is far too wise) for that. 

Here’s the thing that amazes me about these encounters. Both sisters are going through the same situation. Both are hurting equally. And both come to Him with the same thought on their minds- “Lord, if You had been here, my brother would not have died” (v. 21, 32). And yet the response that Jesus gives each of them is very different. With Martha, Jesus is firm, though kind, reminding her of who He is. He gives Her good doctrine, reminds her of the truth, which still remains the truth even in this turbulent time. But after His encounter with the weeping Mary, we come to a verse describing Jesus’ interaction with her that is one of my favorite verses in the Bible, one I’m sure you’ve heard before- “Jesus wept” (v.35). Think about the implications of this: these two little words speak volumes about the God we serve. This Man who stands before Mary is the One through Whom and by Whom the heavens and the earth were created (John 1:3), the One who upholds all things by the word of His power (Hebrews 1:3), who was “I Am”, the covenant-making and covenant-keeping God, before Abraham even existed (John 8:58) and here He stands, condescended from heaven to this broken world, in the weakness of flesh, crying from the depths of His spirit (see v. 33, 38) because of the pain and ruin that the disastrous results of a sinful, fallen world have caused in the life of this one person. He knew the goings-on of the whole entire world, and yet here He was, present and engaged, even to the point of tears, with this one woman. And please don’t forget, Jesus knew He was going to raise Lazarus- that was the plan from the beginning, even from the foundations of the world. And yet, still He was moved to the point of tears by the grief of His dear friend. What does this tell us? For one thing, it shows that Jesus is the perfect counselor. He sees our pain and knows exactly what each of us needs individually. He does not block us all into categories and deal with us in that way. No, He sees that each of us is made unique and cares for each of us as a special person. Not only this, but we can confidently run to Jesus with any issue we deal with; He is not too big or too busy, even for your smallest problems. Even with the whole wide world under His gaze, He cares deeply enough for you to stoop down, look you in the eyes, hear you, and give you exactly what you need when you need it (though keep in mind His timing, though perfect, often may not feel so perfect to us. But as we’ve seen, He sees all and has a plan).  

At this point, we have seen that Jesus sees our suffering, that He has a plan in our suffering, and that He cares deeply about us in our suffering. But what good is it if he merely sees, has a plan, and cares, but lacks the authority to actually carry it all out? Take comfort, loved ones: this story still ain’t overs… 

Jesus is Lord Over Suffering 

After speaking with the mourners, Jesus comes to the place where Lazarus is laid. Here Jesus shows that He is a man of His word, getting ready to do what He has said He would do all along. Upon His arrival at the tomb, He makes a startling demand of His friends: He tells them to remove the stone that is covering the cave where Lazarus is laid. Martha, ever the practical one, points out that her brother has been dead four days and that the odor is probably very bad and very strong by now (v. 39).  

We, being on this side of the resurrection, are perhaps tempted to reprimand Martha. I mean, come on, Jesus has told you guys multiple times now that He’s going to raise Lazarus! Do what the man asks! Yet we, too, are often tempted in times of suffering to doubt, question, and disobey that which Jesus is calling us to do. Meet with other Christians while I feel this? Be honest with people about what I’m going through when I don’t even fully understand it myself? Read my Bible when I can’t even keep my own thoughts straight? Pray to you when I don’t even know if you care? And yet, knowing Jesus and trusting in His power, they do indeed roll away the stone. 

This is where the rubber meets the road. This is the crux of the passage. But before we discuss how this is good news and a comfort for us today, hear me: this IS NOT, as I’ve heard others frame it, a passage about Jesus “raising the Lazarus’s in your life”. To take it in this way, I believe will set us up for disappointment and will miss the heart of what the passage is teaching. What I mean is that this is not about how Jesus is going to solve all of your problems by wrapping it up in a neat bow, making everything go according to your plan. This is a passage about Jesus Himself: this is a descriptive passage meant to tell you about Jesus’ power and authority and to give you comfort in your trials, not a prescriptive passage that tells you that Jesus is going to make all your problems go away. Let’s piece together Jesus’ commentary on this event… 

“’This illness does not lead to death. It is for the glory of God, so that the Son of God may be glorified through it.’” (v. 4, emphasis mine) 

“’Lazarus has died, and for your sake I am glad that I was not there, so that you may believe.’” (v. 14-15) 

“Jesus lifted up His eyes and said, ‘Father, I thank you that you have heard me, but I said this on account of the people standing around, that they may believe that you sent me.’” (v. 41-42, emphasis mine) 

Jesus is using this event to draw people (you and I included!) to Himself. He is using this tragic event to highlight that He Himself is the resurrection and the life, that He is Lord of all, that He is the savior. And here is the situation we are faced with: either Jesus is who He says He is, or He is not. Either He is Lord, even over this present darkness, or He is not. Either He is working this out for His glory and your good or He is not. Something else that we need to understand as we live our lives in this broken world, both in times of suffering and in times of prosperity, is that Jesus is not primarily concerned with our physical comfort or even our happiness. Please don’t misunderstand me, He does not get pleasure from our suffering, as we’ve seen already. However, far more important than our physical well-being is our spiritual well-being, and that is Jesus’ primary concern. That our faith in Him continues to be strengthened is far more important than that we lead a happy or comfortable life. 

Now, as we know, Jesus does indeed raise Lazarus, and there is great rejoicing, and many do believe in Jesus (v. 43-45). But what about for us today? As I pointed out in the beginning of this article, we often do not see a resolve to our suffering quite so miraculous as the one we’ve been looking at. My friend’s body still lies in its grave to this day. Maybe you’ve been sick for years and things seem only to be getting worse. Maybe you or someone you love has been struggling with depression and are still fighting to hold on to the faith. How can we have hope in these things? The great king and psalmist, David, helps us here in driving home the point that Jesus Himself has been making in our passage. 

 In the 39th psalm, David is reflecting on his dire situation and lamenting over his distress and depression. In the midst of all this, he makes a statement that we would do well to pay close attention to: “And now, O Lord, for what do I wait? My hope is in you” (Psalm 39:7, emphasis mine). Notice what he’s saying here. His hope is not in the fact that the Lord will deliver him. It’s not in the miracle that thinks might be coming. His hope is actually in the Lord Himself. He is placing all of his hope and trust and desires in the perfect Person and attributes of God. He is placing his hope in that which is unmovable, unchangeable, more solid than any rock. He is placing his hope in the fact that God is good, that He is loving, and that whatever may come from His mighty, sovereign hand will ultimately work out for his good, even if he does not see it this side of heaven. 

This is my encouragement to you today. I am not asking you to “visualize a miracle”. Often what we visualize or desire is far less wonderful and helps our faith far less than what Jesus will actually do, as we saw with our friends, Mary and Martha. Imagine if Jesus had only healed Lazarus: sure, it would confirm that Jesus was a great healer. But it would not prove undeniably that He is Lord of all, even of death itself. I am not asking you to deny reality or downplay your suffering. Jesus doesn’t- indeed, He even weeps with us- and thus neither should we. I am asking you to turn your gaze to Jesus, to come to know on a deeper level who He is, to come to trust Him more; even if for you right now, that means reading just one psalm a day, listening to one worship song every couple of days, or even attending just one Christian gathering a week. Situations change, suffering often intensifies, and people fail us, but Jesus never will. He is the same yesterday, today, and forever (Hebrews 13:8). Turn to Him, come to know Him more, and be assured that all things do indeed work together for your good (Romans 8:28), because He sees your suffering, He cares about your suffering, and He is Lord over your suffering.