
I was recently asked to write an endorsement for Phil Zylla’s new book, Virtue as Consent to Being: A Pastoral-Theological Perspective on Jonathan Edwards’s Construct of Virtue. Phil is a pastor, poet, and scholar. His book is a substantive treatment of virtue theory and its interface with pastoral theology.
What does this have to do with Advent, you ask?
Much in every way…
The heart of Phil’s thesis is that virtue cannot be fully understood apart from suffering. Virtuous pastoral engagement happens best when would-be pastoral caregivers effectively enter into the suffering of another. “To suffer with” (Latin, pati cum) is for Zylla the key that unlocks our ability to have true compassion for the other. We are most compassionate when we “suffer with” another… and that requires us to be with the other.
That’s the message of Advent.
Jesus took on human flesh—God became human—in order to be with and suffer with us. If suffering is a principal criterion of virtue, Jesus is the most virtuous person of all.
The writer of Hebrews says, “it was fitting that God, for whom and through whom everything exists, should make the pioneer of [our] salvation perfect through suffering” (Hebrews 2:10). Jesus had to become “fully human in every way in order to become a merciful and faithful high priest in service to God…” (2:17). As such, he is able to empathize with our weaknesses (see 4:15). We can therefore “approach God’s throne of grace with confidence… and find grace to help us in our time of need” (4:16).
Jesus came not only to suffer for us, but also to suffer with us. I think this is what the Bible means when it speaks of our participation in Christ’s sufferings (see Philippians 3:10 and 1 Peter 4:13). Since the First Advent, Jesus has been abiding with us—and suffering with us. So will it be until the Second (and final) Advent. Jesus is in a very experiential sense “Immanuel”–God with us.
I come into this Advent season with a heavy heart. Last month I lost my dad. Seven months before I lost my mom. That they both lived long lives makes the loss no smaller. A picture of them in front of last year’s Christmas tree sits before me. Dad is looking straight at me, smiling warmly. Mom is looking too—but her stare is hollow.
Mom suffered the ravages of Alzheimer’s for 10 agonizing years. By the time she passed, she had not spoken a single word for 3 years. Her death was liberation from a body that had hobbled her soul. In death she fell into the loving embrace of a Savior who had suffered with her every day. Dad too suffered with Mom. As his best friend in the world slowly lost her ability to speak, to laugh, and eventually even to smile. Dad did the best he could to preserve her dignity. And when she left this world last April, he was able to endure her absence a mere 7 months and 7 days.
Zylla, brilliant poet that he is, opened his book with the following poem and I read it at the closing of Dad’s eulogy:
Pati Cum
with you I suffer
the strange solidarity
of affliction
with you I wait
for the grace to move
toward hope
with you I suffer
the long anguish
of eternal night
and silent screams
with you I strain
for a glimpse
of a day
normal
with you I walk
though my legs
refuse to move
and see
though my eyes
refuse to open
with you I sing
the song
and laugh
the laugh
and suffer
the suffering
… pati cum
Because of Advent, none of us suffers alone.
Advent and Christmas can be times of pain for those of us who have lost loved ones or have difficult family situations. How does the reality that God is with us comfort you in this time?
Chuck Conniry is Vice President and Dean of George Fox Evangelical Seminary, a graduate school of George Fox University, in Newberg, Oregon. Chuck holds several degrees, including the PhD in theology from Fuller Theological Seminary and MDiv from Bethel Seminary, San Diego. He is married to Dianne and together they have three children and one daughter-in-law: Krystal, Matthew (and his wife, Ashley), and Nathan. Chuck loves to write, swim, and ride his Harley. He and his family reside in Sherwood, Oregon.
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Is it really “be with us” and “suffer with us”, or is it “‘be for us’ and ‘suffer for us’ so that He could be with us and suffer with us”?
Because of God the Son’s Incarnation as Jesus Christ and us brought into Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit, we do not bear the penalty of sin (Namely, the Father turning His face away/the sundering of the relationship between creation and Creator) that Christ did on Calvary, but instead hear the Father’s “Yes!” to us in Christ.