It's a Wonderful Strife
STRIFE, noun [see Strive]
1.) Contention in anger or enmity; contest; struggle for victory; quarrel or war.
“I and my people were at great strife with the children of Ammon” (Judges 12:2).
2.) [Archaic] Earnest endeavor.
“You see George, you really had a wonderful life. Don't you see what a mistake it would be to throw it away?”
-Clarence, It's a Wonderful Life
Before I settled into the profession of teaching, I worked for a number of years in the world of concrete. Prior to grinding out lessons plans and pounding due dates into the heads of students, I was pounding and grinding concrete. Indeed, before I was - hopefully - shaping students, I was shaping concrete.
Shaping rock, shaping students; I'd be hard-pressed to say which is more difficult. Rock is less resistant to change and fights back far less often, but again, it's just rock in the end. Students, while tough as granite at times, are well worth the effort - well worth the strife.
This is all to say that whether one is working with rock or with students, the work can be hard and the temptation to complain ever so easy. In my concrete days, my co-workers and I would load up our truck and trailer with supplies in the early morning hours. While we worked, a whiteboard with only a few words scribbled on it hung above us, watching as though it were a sentinel. Day by day, we were greeted with the same daily reminder written upon the board: “Do all things without grumbling.” My boss had taken the phrase from the book of Philippians, “Do all things without grumbling or disputing, that you may be blameless and innocent, children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked and twisted generation, among whom you shine as lights in the world” (2:14-15).
Do not grumble - simple enough, and yet so incredibly hard to do (or not do) at times.
Have you ever heard someone begin a sentence with the phrase, “In our fallen world...?” For example, “In our fallen world... sin and sickness run rampant.” I must admit I draw issue with this phrase, though only because of the word “our”. If we are in Christ, having been delivered from this present kingdom of darkness and adopted as sons and daughters into the Kingdom of light (Colossians 1:13), then this present world is not truly “our” world, now is it? No - our inheritance is in Heaven, where Christ is; we are merely passing through this world.
And yet, for the time being, this world is the only one we have. As it stands, Earth just so happens to be the only world we can physically inhabit. And, to finally come around to my point, in this fallen world the temptation to grumble is ever so strong. All the day long we are battered, bruised, beaten, and bereaved, fighting sin within and without until the moment we are called home.
“O where is the haven of rest for the soul / The peace and contentment it seeks for its own / Can no place be found on this earth free from sin / No city of refuge, where safety we win? / No, no, no, no, not here below” (Zion's Harp, number 263).
The Christian life is one of strife. It's a wonderful life we have been given, one of abundant joy and grace, but let us not be so immature as to ignore the reality that life is also filled with real sin, real sorrow, and real strife in a world that really is fallen. Troubles are ever howling at our doorstep, and at times, safety seems fleeting as though it were a mist. We see our Savior and His promises from afar through the eyes of faith - but therein lies the rub, we see from afar. Rather than worship while we wait, how often do we find ourselves grumbling and complaining?
Life is hard. In this world, we will be battered, bruised, beaten, and bereaved - and yet, are we not also incredibly blessed beyond our heart's imaginings? As our Lord said, “In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world” (John 16:33). This world will seek to shatter and splinter our faith, but take heart brother and sister, for the world is and will be in submission to the risen Christ. This world is not our home. While we yet tarry, we should expect strife to come our way.
Life is hard. It's hard wrestling with your own sin each and every day, striving with all your might to put it to death; it's hard seeing sickness and sorrow hollow out loved ones; it's hard when death takes from us those we love, often so very soon, cutting the dance short midway; it's hard loving those who refuse to love us back, ever giving and never receiving; it's hard when the holidays and anniversaries pass us by with more and more empty chairs around us than the year before; it's hard living by faith, when we grapple with dark doubts and ask that horrid question, “does Jesus care?”
Life is hard. But do you know what's harder? Living a life without Christ and without His promises is harder; infinitely harder, unbearably harder. Do you know what's harder than living a hard life? Living an easy one. Living a life that's easy, meaningless, purposeless, Christless, and entirely self-absorbed - that's the hardest kind of life there is to live. A life of comfort and self will eat away at the very fabric of your soul. To live an easy life entirely for yourself is the hardest life you can live because at the end of it, when all is said and done, you will have gained nothing of lasting worth whatsoever and then, worst of all, you will have forfeited your very own soul as well.
When we grumble, we lose sight of God, the cross, and one another. We sacrifice true joy upon the alter of self when we choose to grumble rather than give thanks and praise, even if it be in the midst of great trouble and strife. Indeed, we throw away our very lives and all God-given blessing when we become consumed with our grumbling, supposing that we have been in some way cheated by Him who has given us life, breath, and everything. There is no surer way to become miserable than to ignore Christ, our families, our marriages, and one another, choosing instead to grumble, complain, and wallow in discontentment.
No person has lived a life harder or more difficult than Jesus of Nazareth. Though He was God, He took upon Himself the form of a servant and endured all manner of strife, slander, abuse, and loneliness - yet, He was without sin, without an iota of grumbling upon His lips. As the Author and Perfecter of our faith, the Lord “who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God” (Hebrews 12:2).
Let us, in imitation of our God, live a life of joy no matter the strife we may face. For,
“Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison” (2 Corinthians 4:16-17).
It's a wonderful strife, it's a wonderful life, and thanks be to God through our Lord Jesus Christ that it will all be abundantly worth it in the end. But the end has not yet come; let us worship while we wait, “striving according to His power which works mightily within [us]” (Colossians 1:29).
“It’s like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger they were. And sometimes you didn’t want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it’s only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you... that meant something. Even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back only they didn’t. They kept going because they were holding on to something.”
Samwise Gamgee, The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers
Photo by John Royle, Unsplash
