For Our Good
I’ve written before
about one of my favorite books, The
Chosen by Chaim Potok. I am particularly
moved by the story of Danny, the brilliant Jewish boy who lived in silence with
his father while being raised. His father
would not speak to him while raising him except when studying the Torah. From the perspective of Danny’s friend Reuven,
who was the main character of the novel, it was impossible to understand why
this father would make his son suffer so much by a self-imposed silence. Why would he refuse to speak to his own son like
a normal father for all those years? How
could he be so cruel to the person he was supposed to love the most?
At the end of the book Reb
Saunders, Danny’s father, finally revealed to Reuven why he had raised his son
this way and allowed him to suffer in this silence. He remarked on Reuven’s feelings: “You do not
understand this, Reuven. I see from your
eyes that you do not understand this….
You think I was cruel? Yes, I see
from your eyes that you think I was cruel to my Daniel.” He explained to Reuven that at four years old
his young boy was brilliant, and he could read a story and repeat it back again
perfectly because he had such a good memory.
When the young child did this with a story about intense suffering of someone
but was unmoved by the story, his father lamented that he had a son with “a
mind without a soul.” His son had no
compassion or feeling for the suffering of others. He told Reuven, “I looked at my Daniel when
he was four years old, and I said to myself, How will I teach this mind what it
is to have a soul? How will I teach this
mind to understand pain? How will I
teach it to want to take on another
person’s suffering?” And so, in order to
teach his son to have a soul filled with compassion and love and understanding for
the suffering of others, he made him suffer.
“He was bewildered and hurt. The
nightmares he began to have…. But he
learned to find answers for himself. He
suffered and learned to listen to the sufferings of others. In the silence between us, he began to hear
the world crying” (pg. 265-267). In this
disclosure of Reb Saunders, the suffering of his son finally made sense, and the
reader finds that it all worked together for the good of Danny, for he did turn
into someone with great compassion and concern for others (especially as the
sequel, The Promise, showed).
I think we can often be like Reuven as we look
at the suffering of others around us. It
can be very difficult to understand why some suffer so intensely in this life,
and we may look to our Father in Heaven and see only cruelty in His actions (or
inactions). Though we understand in our
minds that the Lord has told us “that all these things shall give thee
experience, and shall be for thy good,” it is often hard to see in moment how
seemingly senseless suffering can really be for the good of anyone (Doctrine
and Covenants 122:7). The disciples of
Christ showed their limited understanding in comprehending the suffering of others
when they passed by a “man which was blind from his birth.” They asked Jesus, “Master, who did sin, this
man, or his parents, that he was born blind?”
They thought they comprehended the reasons for suffering, and they could
see only two possibilities for this particular individual. But the Savior responded, “Neither hath this
man sinned, nor his parents: but that the works of God should be made manifest
in him” (John 9:2). Perhaps we are not
too unlike these disciples as we observe the world around us and try to
understand our own and others’ suffering.
We think, “Either this or the reason, or that is the reason,” likely
with some dissatisfaction with our own interpretations that still don’t seem
totally just. But, like for these
disciples, the Lord’s reasons for allowing pain and sorrow may be altogether different. As the Lord taught us through Isaiah, “For as
the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways,
and my thoughts than your thoughts” (Isaiah 55:9). For now we must learn to trust that fact and
accept that we will not understanding everything here in mortality. But there is a God in heaven who does and
loves His children, even if He does not stop all of their suffering. We trust in this future day: “The Lord shall
come, he shall reveal all things—Things which have passed, and hidden things
which no man knew, things of the earth, by which it was made, and the purpose
and the end thereof” (Doctrine and Covenants 101:32-33). Those purposes we may never fully appreciate
in the midst of the trials of mortality here, but we can trust that they will
indeed all be for our good.
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