My Dear Shepherds,

There’s nothing quite like personal suffering to round out a pastor’s ministry. And God sees to it that none of us go on for long without gaining this advantage. It isn’t suffering itself that is so valuable, but that our hardships position us to experience the comfort of God.

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God. (2 Cor. 1:3–4)

Although it may not be mentioned in your job description, you are your church’s lead comforter. Suffering disorients God’s people, throwing them off balance, raising troubling questions about God and faith, and wearying their souls. We can’t always help them make sense of suffering, but we are expected to help them find the consolations of God.

God’s comfort is not one-dimensional. The text says literally, “the Father of compassions” (or “mercies” - ESV) and “the God of all comfort.” Every variety and nuance of a parent’s concern and love, and all the comfort of a shepherd's rod and staff are gathered together in these twin assurances. Comfort (paraklēsos), is embedded with call, like an uplifting voice of encouragement or exhortation, or promised safety in the night. It is personified by the Holy Spirit—the Comforter.

We can try to explain all that in a sermon, but we’ll only get so far. Our flock needs a pastor whose voice has the timbre of God’s and whose presence brings them Christlike tenderness, love, and patience. A counseling class can teach us listening skills but only the comfort of God can help us listen as he does.

The concordance of verses we know can get in the way of God’s comfort unless he instills in us the discernment to know when and how to speak them. When a pastor, shaped by God’s comfort, sits with a family or preaches to his congregation they can somehow more easily grasp and trust the Father’s compassion.

Pastoring is a dying profession; we inevitably die in doing it. We may be hesitant to adopt Paul’s own strong words, but we relate to them: “We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired of life itself.” We’ve all had times that threatened to be the death of us!

In answer, Paul tied God’s comfort to Jesus’ resurrection.

Indeed, we felt we had received the sentence of death. But this happened that we might not rely on ourselves but on God, who raises the dead. (2 Cor. 1:9)

We’d prefer if God’s comfort came in the form of relief—removing the obstacle, silencing the critic, healing the illness, quieting the fear. He mercifully does that sometimes, but just as often his comfort settles within us, slowly producing “patient endurance” (v. 6), the fruit of our confidence in Christ’s resurrection.

If you are wrestling with God through a dark night, don’t pretend you’re fine. Don’t fake confidence. Suffer in the company of Jesus. Wait, cry, and wrestle. Insist, as Jacob did, “I will not let you go until you bless me.” It is the prayer that identifies us as Israel—God Wrestlers. You will walk out of the night with a blessed limp, God’s face shining upon you, and you will know the blessing of God’s comfort.

Then, come Sunday, you can call the people to worship: “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort!”

Be ye glad!

Lee Eclov recently retired after 40 years of local pastoral ministry and now focuses on ministry among pastors. He writes a weekly devotional for preachers on Preaching Today.