There have been a number of portrayals of Vincent Van Gogh in movies but surely none surpasses Willem Dafoe in the recent Eternity’s Gate. Beautifully shot in a hand-held camera, documentary style it gets closer to the heart of Vincent than any I have seen. Near the end of the movie, as he recovers from the ear severing experience, we see Vincent working on a portrait of his friend Dr. Gachet and at the same time engaging in a conversation with his subject. He speaks of the joy that is to be had in sorrow and how ‘an angel is not far from those who are sad’. He shares his conviction that sometimes illness can heal us and that personal distress is ‘the normal state that gives birth to painting.’ With a smile he says: ‘Sometimes I hate the idea of regaining my health.’
I think the words are probably taken straight from some of the many letters Vincent wrote throughout his life, principally to his younger brother Theo. You might think that words like the above are evidence of a disturbed mind but this debt to suffering can often be found in the lives of poets, novelists, painters and other creative types. The Norwegian author Karl Ove Knausgard has written a series of memoirs in which he confronts the dark side of family life in his early years and his own personal demons. He has said: ‘Reading does not help me understand but writing does.’ The pain leads to writing which itself brings understanding. (Hmmm. Is that why people write blogs?)
Simon Weston is another who has found creativity of another sort in personal suffering. He was on board the Sir Galahad when it was bombed during the Falklands Conflict. He sustained horrific burns to his face, hands and body to the extent that his mother failed to recognise him when she first saw him in hospital. But there were deeper wounds which were to cause him greater pain. The days of rehabilitation were accompanied by debilitating depression, the end of an important relationship, a growing alcohol dependency and powerful suicidal thoughts. Eventually he found a way back and established the charity ‘Weston Spirit’ to help people like himself come back from their worst of times and to face the future with new hope. Sadly the charity ran into financial difficulties in the early 2000s and had to fold. But Simon still devotes substantial time and energy to similar charities and is in great demand as a motivational speaker.
He was once the guest on ‘Desert Island Discs’. (One of his choices was the theme tune from ‘Match Of The Day’. Now there’s a man after my own heart.) He was asked about the things he was most grateful for in his life. He mentioned family, friends, doctors, nurses and other health professionals but he rounded it off by saying: ‘But most of all I am grateful for my wounds. Without them I would not be half the man I am today.’
There it is again. This discovery that the worst of times can see the birth of great creativity and personal growth such that you can be grateful that they have come. Vincent and his mental illness. Simon and his physical pain and disfigurement. And don’t forget the Apostle Paul. I don’t feel I fully understood his attitude to suffering until now. I could tell you what it is. But a head grasp is very different from a heart experience.
In 2 Corinthians 4 Paul speaks of that fundamental Christian experience when God shines the light of His truth into our hearts ‘to give us the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ.’ (verse 6) This is the realisation that in Christ we have found the fulness of God. But he goes on:
‘ . . . we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed.’ (vv. 7-9)
What we see in Christ is the most important revelation we will ever receive, a gate to eternity, and yet we hold it in bodies and minds that are limited and fragile. There is though for Paul a purpose in this:
‘We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body.’ (verse 10)
The death of Christ carried physical pain, mental anguish and spiritual dereliction but from this came the salvation of humankind touching men and woman with the hope of forgiveness and renewal and eternal life. Similarly from our suffering can come the ‘life of Jesus’ in our words, our attitudes, our values. As Paul discovered in the rigours of his ministry the weaker he was the stronger became the evidence of Christ in his life reaching out and touching the lives of others:
‘For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that his life may also be revealed in our mortal body. So then, death is at work in us, but life is at work in you.’ (vv. 11-12)
If I am hearing Paul correctly he is saying that sometimes we have to be cut back in order that Jesus may be more fully seen and heard and experienced through our lives for the benefit of others. Remember that startling image in John 15: 1-4 of the Christian being like a vine and God with His pruning knife cutting us back to make us more fruitful, more like Jesus. In that sense Paul would understand Vincent being grateful for his illness and Simon for his wounds.
This leads Paul to conclude:
‘Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.’ (verses 16-18)
Now we are getting close to an issue that I have touched on before and which some have found disturbing. The whole question of the purpose of suffering and whether God can ever be regraded as its source, even if there is a good end in view. We’ll get back to that. Trust me! For the time being, let’s once again remind ourselves that under God some of the most powerful Christian witnesses have been those who have suffered greatly and who have testified to the loving purpose of God in that experience. Some have been mentioned in my quarryings. People though ‘jars of clay’ have been given the opportunity to show the glory of God in their service to others. People who were convinced that ‘an angel is not far from those who are sad’ and who in the end were grateful for their wounds.
