Matthew F. Leighty
Executive Director
At Worship Anew, prayer is at the center of all that we do. Prayer requests are passed along from those we serve and those on our staff. As a ministry team, we dedicate ourselves to prayer on a regular basis. Some time ago, a prayer request came to us that stood out: A pastor had tragically lost his wife and young children in a car accident.
As I prayed for this brother in Christ, I found myself wrestling with the question: What do we say to such suffering? What comfort can we offer when loss is so devastating, so complete?
We don’t have to think very long to identify struggles affecting someone we know and love or perhaps even within ourselves: Divisions within our families. Divisions within our church. Physical or mental health issues that we face or we face with those we love. Violence and crime. Financial problems. Loneliness and isolation that make each day feel longer than the last.
For many experiencing just one of these burdens, the weight could be debilitating and lead to despair. The world offers countless strategies: positive thinking, finding your inner strength, or simply “staying strong.” But these ring hollow when we face the genuine anguish of broken relationships, failing bodies, or hearts heavy with grief. They certainly offer no comfort to a pastor who has lost everything.
The wondrous cross of Christ does more than demonstrate God’s love; it addresses each specific suffering we face. Because Christ willingly endured the cross for us, our sufferings are transformed from meaningless burdens into places where His victory becomes ours.
When divisions tear at your family or church, remember that Christ’s body was broken so that reconciliation might be possible. The One who was betrayed, denied, and abandoned, now brings peace where there was division and forgiveness where there was hurt.
When illness plagues you or your loved ones, the cross declares that Christ bore our infirmities and carried our sorrows. In His broken body, healing has come. If not always in this life, then certainly in the resurrection life to come.
When violence and evil shake our sense of safety, the cross stands as proof that evil does not have the final word. The worst injustice in history — the crucifixion of God’s innocent Son — became the means of our salvation.
When loneliness and isolation overwhelm you, remember Christ’s cry: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Mark 15:34b ESV). He was forsaken so that you would never be. He endured absolute isolation from the Father so that nothing could ever separate you from God’s love.
How do we make meaning of our suffering without trivializing it? To many, offering “the word of the cross” as an answer to profound suffering seems foolish: too simple, too spiritual, and too disconnected from real pain. As Paul writes, “For the word of the cross is folly to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God” (1 Corinthians 1:18 ESV).
The cross is not foolishness. It is God’s power breaking into our suffering. Not by pretending pain isn’t real or claiming, “everything happens for a reason,” but by revealing three profound truths:
First, suffering is not punishment for our sins. Christ has already borne that punishment. Your suffering is not a sign of God’s displeasure. Christ has absorbed God’s wrath against sin on the cross.
Second, suffering is not meaningless. It is a place where God works, shaping us and preparing us for the eternal glory that awaits. As Francis Pieper taught, Christians regard “the sufferings of this present time as light (Romans 8:18) … (knowing that) it is the blessed hope of heaven which shapes a Christian’s life on earth into the right form” (Christian Dogmatics, Vol. 3, p. 85).
Third, suffering will not last forever. The cross leads to resurrection. The same power that raised Christ from the dead will raise us. Every tear will be wiped away, every wound healed, every broken relationship restored.
We live in the tension between Good Friday and Easter, between the cross and the resurrection. Christ has decisively defeated sin, death, and the devil. That victory is ours now through faith in Him. Yet, we still experience the effects of living in a fallen world until Christ returns and we see Him face to face.
In our ministry research with aging adults, we’ve learned that many face chronic pain, limited mobility, broken relationships, fears about children or grandchildren leaving the faith, and the sadness of losing independence. These struggles are real and often unrelenting.
Yet, the cross gives us a different lens through which to view them. As the hymn “In the Cross of Christ I Glory” (LSB #427 v. 2) reminds us:
“When the woes of life o’ertake me, Hopes deceive, and fears annoy, Never shall the cross forsake me: Lo, it glows with peace and joy.”
The cross doesn’t remove the woes, but it does ensure we’re never forsaken in them. It glows with peace and joy, not because circumstances change but because our relationship with God is secure, our forgiveness is complete, and our future is certain.
This month’s Broadcaster explores “The Wondrous Cross,” and there is perhaps no greater wonder than how the cross speaks into our deepest suffering. It doesn’t explain away our pain or suggest it isn’t real. Instead, it places our suffering in a larger story, God’s story of redemption.
Above photo by Ashley Wiehe: Faith Lutheran Church in Roanoke, Ind., has seen new life over the years with growing membership and a new building. Learn more in the March Broadcaster, pages 6-7.