Worship Through Pain

By Aaron and Rachel Vanderbeck

Pain as an expression of worship:

“Consider it all joy my brothers and sisters, when you come up against all forms of trials and testing…” (James 1:2)

A long time ago I stumbled upon a quote that spoke to the power of worship. Although the exact words have long since been forgotten, the content of it has always resonated deep within my soul. Weeping, silence, and melody, the three expressions of grief, in ascending order.

Recently my family and I have been going through an extreme season of personal loss, grief, and pain: the premature death of a child, the suicide of several brothers, physical ailments, spiritual assaults, and mental anguish. All throughout, my family and close friends, loss and pain are evident.

Where the heck is that victorious Christian life, I so often hear about over all the methods of media, that blast us at any single moment?

Weeping has been almost constant. Times of silence have been sporadic at best, and frequented with those things we can turn to, in order to take the edge off. But song, melody, joy? To be in that place where I could meet this pain with a song, with worship, is almost unimaginable. And yet, that is where I honestly believe our Savior lovingly desires us, and faithfully leads us to be, whether there at that place or not yet.

The beauty of this revelation is that even in admitting it, it does not take away from its “lesser” forms.

And let’s be honest, often times the only reason they are deemed "lesser" is because we judge by the outward appearance while God looks at our hearts.

Weeping can be a form of worship, just look at the publican crying out in the temple: “Lord be merciful to me the sinner” (Luke 18:13)! We can make the reality of it so much more romantic than it probably was. I imagine snot flowing from his nostrils and tears streaming down his face in anguish, at the realization of his vast need for mercy, in light of the depth of his darkness, pain, and sin.  Or think about Mary the prostitute, weeping and drenching Jesus’ dirty feet with her hair at a public dinner in front of the religious elite. That is anything but the clean-cut picture we are often presented with.

Silence can be a form of worship too. I imagine the disciples being without words the moments and days after our Savior gave up His spirit. Maybe some of them turned to wine to numb the grief they must have felt, having not actually experienced His promised resurrection yet. The silence of Job, under the “encouragement” of his friends, as they accused him of things untrue, all very real illustrations of the reality we still experience in this 21st century.

Both weeping and silence are forms of worship which our Father loves and desires. Why? because worship, at its core, is rooted in honesty and intimacy, in owning and expressing the fears, shames, and inadequacies that all of us experience every day, all of us with no exception. And that is where our Savior was sent and chose to meet us!

There are few things in life as universal to the human condition as pain.

Almost from the dawn of time as we know it, at least from the Fall, pain and suffering has joined itself to the human memory to the point where the absence of pain has never been an experience any human being, other than Adam and Eve, has ever had. Ever.

Wow.

A machine can feel no pain. In fact, to feel pain is to be fully human, fully alive.

So where in the world do we come up with the idea that as a follower of Jesus, He is concerned with reducing our suffering?

Could it possibly be that the experience of pain is actually one of the pinnacle expressions for worship, while we walk along this temporary pilgrimage to our true and everlasting home?

To answer this question all we need to do is look to our Example, the Author and Finisher of the faith we hold.

“In this world you will have trouble, but take heart, I have overcome the world” -Jesus (John 16:33).

Here before us, the focal point of the Good News, is the God-Man, our Savior Jesus. Who walks through temptation, trial, persecution, accusation, pain, grief, agony, and loss, and yet not once tries to numb or dull the moment through exterior means. In fact, point blank He says the one truth we all can still try so hard to avoid, you WILL have trouble, you will experience pain and loss, friends will turn their backs on you, things unexplainable will happen, BUT you will not be alone. You were never, never are, and will never be alone.

The weeping over Lazarus, the silence in the face of the Jews and Pilot, all at once is rapturously overcome by the melody exploding from the grave that held no body!

Death was defeated and the grave held no power. And from that comes our ability to sing and rejoice despite the temporary pain or the reminders of death and constant loss, because nothing is wasted in God's Kingdom.

To fully feel is to fully worship. Because to fully worship is to fully be alive. And to fully be alive means that the life of our Savior is fully expressed in and through us, both individually and corporately. And lastly, the full expression of Christ’s life in and through us is what empowers us to overcome the enemy we face. When I can only weep, others can sing. When I can only be silent, the love song of Jesus’ body (the Church) brings strength to my soul.

So where at the end of this jumbled mess of words do I leave you my friends? Don’t despair in the pain, for as we embrace it we more fully know the love of our Savior and are able to express His love with undeniable truth and power. And it is there that we are able to openly and honestly express the life and hope we have to a world of people desperately seeking answers in this dark and confusing hour.

Commit and submit to the pain. Your Father is good! This is the spiritual act of worship.

Am I there yet? Nope. But I’m pressing in, on, and up. Just as I pray for you to, as we fight this war and walk this path of faith. Because the one that is with and in us is greater than anything we can ever face. Pain and all.

Shalom.

Author Note:

Aaron & Rachel Vanderbeck have eight kids and have lived all over the country. They are on a quest, as a family, to know God deeper and more intimately every day, and to share His love and redemption to a dark an hurting world. Onward they go along this pilgrim’s journey.