Psalm 119:71:

It is good for me that I was afflicted,
   that I might learn your statutes.

The Psalmist expresses the very attitude toward our condition that we all ought to have.

I think most would agree, with a sober assessment, that the times in our lives that are truly free of difficulty, pain and failure are the minority. Instead, those times make up most of what we experience and stand to make the others that much sweeter. If we didn’t know a better way, most would live with regrets and disappointments.

But, like the Psalmist says, “It is good for me that I was afflicted.” It’s in those times that we do our greatest growing—learning to trust God’s word and decisions in our lives.

The Church in America—me included—has a big problem with giving. Tithing I mean. I’ve talked about it before. The church in America, percentage wise, gives less than almost any other nation.

In 2 Corinthians 8, Paul writes to the Corinthian people about the generous giving of the Macedonian church. Out of their “severe test of affliction” and “extreme poverty”, they “overflowed in a wealth of generosity” (v.2).

Paul writes to the church at Corinth (a comparatively wealthy group), stirring them up to generosity using the abundant giving of the Macedonians to shame them.

What Paul writes just a few verses later I found interesting. 2 Corinthians 8:3-6:

“They gave according to their means, as I can testify, and beyond their means, of their own accord, begging us earnestly for the favor of taking part in the relief of the saints—and this, not as we expected, but they gave themselves first to the Lord and then by the will of God to us.”

It would seem, taken the larger context, that Paul is saying that the Macedonians, although they were severely afflicted and extremely impoverished, sought to support the saints financially out of the overflow of their joy they had in the Lord. In “giving themselves first to the Lord”.

Although it may not be a direct correlation here, there’s clearly a principle worth observing. The Corinthians were true Christians, yet they needed stirring up in order to give of themselves financially. The Macedonians were also true Christians, but the Macedonians gave themselves to the Lord and as they did that were spurred on to give themselves to the Apostles—financially.

I’ve always struggled with the Church’s use of money. I’ve struggled with the church asking for money, given it usually seems squandered. But scripture makes clear that all we have belongs to the Lord and when we give, we simply give to God what is God’s—something we’re taught to do to exercise faith.

For a number of reasons, both common and uncommon, I find giving financially to be especially difficult. As I do it, It’s often not all that joyful, but more as my own disciplinarian (which is not altogether bad either).

But, It shouldn’t be this way for me, or for you.

Following the principle here, perhaps we should seek to prayerfully give ourselves to the Lord in new ways as the Macedonians did. Possibly embracing our own unique experience of affliction. Hopefully in that, the Lord will cause us to then give ourselves financially as well—which will inevitably lead to our Good and God’s glory.

The familiar verse, James 1:2-3, reads:

“Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance.”

It’s hard to remember that for Christians, affliction is not God’s disfavor, but his favor. God changes, builds and refines us. One such way is through our trials and difficulties. It’s easy to see in retrospect, but difficult to embrace in the moment.

To that end I think, Thomas Watson wrote this:

“To know that nothing hurts the godly, is a matter of comfort; but to be assured that all things which fall out shall co-operate for their good, that their crosses shall be turned into blessings, that showers of affliction water the withering root of their grace and make it flourish more; this may fill their hearts with joy till they run over.”

Every morning the very first thing I do before getting out of bed is read a psalm to myself out loud. Then, in the evening, the very last thing I do is read that same psalm again. Yesterday morning, it was psalm 51. One brief verse, number eight, caught my attention and I’ve been thinking about it sense.

“Make me to hear joy and gladness,
Let the bones which you have broken
Rejoice.”

It reminded me of some of some thoughts that Jeremiah Burroughs had provoked in his work The Rare Jewel of Christian Contentment. In his work, Burroughs endeavors to help teach the church Paul’s meaning in saying that he had “learned” the secret to contentment, in hopes that other believers would follow in Paul’s footsteps.

Burroughs explains that contentment (true Christian contentment that is) always submits to God’s disposal. This of course makes sense. We are to be obedient to God, and who are we to ever talk back to God and say, “why have you made me like this?” In our troubles and our afflictions we should always submit quietly to God, regardless of the difficulty. No big deal, I get that, it’s hard most of the time, but I understand it. But then, he built on top of that with something a lot more difficult for me to stomach.

Burroughs claims next that a truly content Christian must not only submit under whatever God would choose to afflict us with, but we should in fact appreciate it. Wait, hold up. I’ve got a problem with that. Historically, that isn’t something that I’ve probably ever pulled off. My afflictions and difficulties, in hindsight, usually produce a submissive joy, looking at all the good that God had done through my difficulty, but in the moment, no way. Burroughs claim was almost insulting. How am I supposed to sit in the midst of my difficulty, and say, “thank you Jesus that things are difficult”? Well it’s easy, I understand. Just believe that Jesus can see and perceive more than I can and that whatever I’m in is exponentially better than the alternative. Ah, good, case closed. I’ll do that from here on out and everything will be peaches and cream.

Ok, that was sarcastic. But the truth is, that’s the goal we ought to be working toward. James 1:2, “consider it pure joy, my brothers, when you face trials of many kinds.” When you face trials of many kinds. Not, after you face trials, or before you face trials, but when you face trials. But how come? “Because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance.” (James 1:3). Historically, I know the trials and afflictions that I face are allowed, sometimes produced, by God. Always, they have turned out for the deepening of my faith and the increasing of my satisfaction and joy. God is doing something when I’m hurting and it’s going to be really awesome.

Jesus, I pray that you would increase my faith. Give me joy in the midst of affliction. Not aside from pain, but because of pain. Remind me that whatever you are working is for my good and your glory. Jesus, speak this peace over your Church across the globe; especially to your children who are hurting much worse than I have. Teach us faith, teach us perseverance. God, for the sake of your glory and our joy, sanctify your Church!