THE TRIUMPH OF FAITH

God and Poetry Final Paper

Evil and suffering compel us to question the reality of God’s presence in the world. If God is as powerful as he claims to be, why would he allow suffering at all? What good comes from the allowance of evil? These questions are especially pressing for a person who professes faith and must endure hardship even when he believes that God is supremely good. Challenged by the possibility that God is uncaring, absent, or perhaps even nonexistent, the believer must defy logic and seek an inner conviction of God independent of external circumstances. This, of course, connotes a tremendous struggle, for though the believer suffers a life of disorientation, frustration, and even self-destruction, he clings to faith in an unseen God. Poetry from all ages has mapped the details of this struggle, not only describing the feelings of suffering associated with the life of faith but also depicting examples of enduring faith, exploring how such faith comes about. The poets of Biblical, medieval, and contemporary times have thoroughly investigated the theme of suffering, from the actual moments of pain and anguish to the challenges of faith and the reasons for perseverance.

the reality of suffering and the response of humanity

Before all else, it is necessary to understand the details and depths of the believer’s suffering. Surely, the reality of suffering is a theme not missed by the poets of Biblical, medieval, and contemporary times. For example, the poet in Psalm 88 expresses his suffering as he writes, “…I am sated with misfortune; / I am at the brink of Sheol” (88:4). Sheol, according to Nahum Sarna, “is the biblical Hebrew term for the realm of the dead.”[1] By writing that he is at the “brink of Sheol,” the poet emphasizes that the suffering is almost great enough to compare to death—the ultimate suffering. Inviting the use of simile and familiar imagery, the poet then calls himself a “helpless man / abandoned… like bodies lying in the grave… who are cut off from [God’s] care” (88:5,6).

The medieval poet Solomon Ibn Gabirol also touches on this sense of abandonment, writing, “In ignorance I suffer, love, / With no one to explain” (v.8, emphasis mine). Feeling deserted, the speaker has also been “mocked” (v.3), “chased” (v.5), and “trampled” on (v.6), and no allusion to relief or comfort is made in the poem. Contemporary poet Yehuda Amichai in “My Father, My King” adds, “The years have turned me into a taster of pain,” implying that suffering is persistent and pervasive (line 3). The outlook is unpromising, for only suffering exists.

What is the response of humanity to this suffering? One possibility suggested by contemporary poet Rivka Miriam is doubt. In her poem “Alone,” the speaker dryly informs the reader that the people she knew suddenly left her, thereby causing her to doubt God’s existence: “[I] did not know if the heavens yet existed… / [and] I don’t know if they are still present and where” (lines 8,11). Her dubious response is understandable; when all is taken away one rarely thinks about how real God must be. Instead, one questions not only, “Does God exist?” but also, “Why do I believe in the first place?”

Besides doubt, another response to suffering is petition, as illustrated by the contemporary poem “Something Hurts” by Admiel Kosman. In this poem, the speaker repeatedly asks God, “Something hurts me here, on my side, do you see it, Creator” (lines 1,6,12)? Describing his “long horn of suffering” through vivid imagery and simile, the speaker implores God to, “Clip it and dispose of it” (lines 5,11). But the petition seems to accomplish little since the speaker must repeat the same question three times, finally asking in exhaustion, “Creator, aren’t you listening” (line 16)? The suffering hurts and the speaker requests help, but God does not seem responsive. Reminiscent of Job’s excruciating pain (to be discussed in further detail later), the speaker’s example of suffering affords little comfort or hope and calls into question anyone’s continuing faith in God. In Psalm 22, the poet writes, “I cry by day,” but, “You answer not; by night, and have no respite” (22:3). Judah Halevi in Poem 4 of The Gazelle writes, “Her lover hurt her heart by leaving her / For years; she might have died” (lines 7-8). If God will not answer and grant rest, the question then is, “Where are you God? Do you really exist?” Suffering leads to the temptation to believe that there is no incentive to faith in God.

the challenge to overcome and the process of struggle

There is, hence, a definite challenge to overcome the temptation to abandon faith, and what ensues is a process of human struggle. Zelda’s contemporary poem “I Am a Dead Bird” suggests that this process of struggle is a personal one. Opening first with, “I am a dead bird, / one bird who died” (lines 1-2), the speaker presents his suffering and, like the poet in Psalm 88, compares the suffering to death. The suffering is exacerbated by persecution and the tone of the poem is depressing and dismal, for she writes, “As I walk someone scornfully sneers at me” (line 4). However, a dramatic shift occurs in the second stanza, which begins with, “Suddenly your silence surrounds me— / Eternal One” (lines 5-6). A resurrection occurs, for the “dead fowl can sing” (line 7) and “hops with a hidden song” (lines 9-10). The adjective “hidden” calls for attention, for while the bird has undergone a transformation of sorts—from despair to dance—Zelda implies that the source of this transformation is one unseen from any outsiders. She may be implying that the process of struggle and overcoming comes not from external encouragement or outside help (as was attempted by the friends of Job during Job’s plight of suffering), but rather from a source within—perhaps a source divine.

The process of overcoming struggle is explicit in Psalm 13. Encapsulated in this psalm is the movement from lament, to petition, to an expression of trust, and finally to thanksgiving.[2] The first three verses are a series of questions asking God how long the believer is to endure ignorance (v.2), grief (v.3), and failure against the enemy (v.3). The suffering prompts the poet to petition—“Look at me, answer me, O Lord, my God” (v.4)! The shift occurs in verse six when the poet writes, “But I trust in Your faithfulness,” continuing with a thankful, “I will sing to the Lord, / for He has been good to me.” Although the shift in tone seems to come abruptly and with little transition, Meir Weiss, author of The Bible From Within, notes, “[I]n comparison with the ‘lament,’ the beginning of the ‘petition’ expresses a greater degree of trust.”[3] He further argues that this shift occurs through a kind of self-actualizing, performative power,[4] for “his very prayer itself is what wrought this miracle, and changed his state of mind from despair to the certainty of salvation.”[5] Overcoming struggle, Psalm 13 suggests, is accomplished through the process of poetry.

Poem 2 of The Gazelle by Moses Ibn Ezra also focuses on the process of struggle and encapsulates the movement from frustration to trust in God. According to Raymond P. Scheindlin, editor of The Gazelle, the speaker moves from his “submissiveness,” to “frustration,” to “patient and loving acceptance of God’s cruelty and neglect” (Scheindlin 62). Here the performative power of poetry is at work again.

The process of struggle and the challenge to overcome, of course, are not limited to the examples above. For some, the process is much more complicated, involving numerous movements between hardship and hope. For others, the process is a bit simpler. Whatever the case, the poetry above agrees that suffering compels perseverance, which leads to an enduring faith.

the reality of perseverance and the survival of faith

Introduced by the poets who outlined the process of struggle, the idea of perseverance and faith amidst suffering is not impossible. In Poem 2 of The Gazelle, Ezra writes, “And though he kill me, yet in him I hope, / And though he hide, / I turn my face to him” (lines 7-9). His lover, God, may kill and hide, but the speaker continues to persevere, claiming hope and still turning to God.

Sometimes believers will go to greater lengths to persevere in faith. The speaker of Ibn Ezra’s poem recognizes a distance between God and himself when mentioning her lover’s rage (line 1), tyranny (line 1), and forgetfulness (line 4). But the speaker refuses to believe in God’s true distance by explicitly confessing her continued hope and devotion. In the same way, the Biblical character of Job experiences a distance between God and himself. Though Job is certain of his integrity, he continues to suffer and fights the temptation to abandon his faith in God. To reassure that the relationship between God and himself is not in jeopardy, and to free himself of any justification for a punishment of previous sins, Job resorts to believing against his own integrity. Confessing, “If ever I raised my hand to an orphan, / seeing I had support in the gate, / may my shoulder fall out of its socket, / and my forearm break off at the elbow” (31:21-2), Job seeks a reassurance that the relationship between God and himself is not severed. Job refuses to believe that his suffering is the result of his unrighteousness or God’s distance, for Job yearns to be close with God. The poet of Psalm 19 expresses the same desire to be close with God amidst suffering when he asks God to, “Clear me of unperceived guilt” (19:13). Here faith is powerful enough to compel man to confess that which he is unaware of—a rather commendable human effort considering that most individuals find troublesome enough the confession of sins they already are aware of.

The preceding examples show how the speaker actively perseveres in his faith, but some poetry lends itself more to an understanding of a passive perseverance. For example, contemporary poet Asher Reich’s work “How Shall I Come” depicts a speaker handling the conflicts of his desires to approach God. He writes, “It’s better if I come at another time, / alone, / with the silence of my sins” (lines 5-7). But, the close of this poem ends with a shaky conviction that—even though the speaker is reluctant to approach God—he will nonetheless approach Him eventually. He writes, “Wait! / For I’ll return to you / one of these days” (lines 10-12). Perseverance in faith is less emphatic in this example, for the poem in its tonal context nearly translates to, “I am forced to hope in you.”

A line from poem 4 of The Gazelle by Halevi climaxes the idea of a passive perseverance by giving man’s desire for faith a will of its own. Halevi writes, “She swore she’d never say his name again, / But in her heart it burned like fire” (lines 9-10). Halevi’s line lacks the active forcefulness of the line from Ibn Ezra—“And though he kill me, yet in him I hope”—for while Ibn Ezra’s speaker consciously chooses to hope in God, Halevi’s speaker consciously refuses to hope in God but cannot do so. The fire imagery of intensity and passion indicate the raging power of man’s longing for God—unyielding even to man’s own will. The implication, then, is that human efforts at refusing faith are futile, that perseverance will follow regardless of one’s personal will.

The poetic examples above show how perseverance—whether conscious or not—is real and how faith survives amidst despair. But such perseverance in faith rarely comes without a meaningful commitment founded on awareness that there are convincing reasons to persevere in faith.

the reasons to persevere in faith and the redefinition of suffering

It would be completely illogical for an individual to have faith in God unless there was incentive to do so. If faith is not helpful in some way, then it should be abandoned. Yet life teems with believers pursuing faith in God, despite serious hardship and suffering. What explains this resilience?

Halevi in poem 15 of The Gazelle proposes that the answer is pride. In this poem, Halevi enthusiastically praises God for His companionship (line 3), comfort (line 4), and sustenance (lines 5-7), but not without mentioning that there is also a stigma attached to holding faith in God. He writes, “They mock who do not understand…” (line 8). The speaker must face persecution for believing in God, suffering for faith’s sake. But the speaker is quick to add, “The shame / I bear because I bear Your name is pride to me,” highlighting the satisfying reason for persevering in faith. Shame is a pride for the speaker because the speaker is fully convicted of the promise he has in God. Were it not for this conviction the speaker would find the shame a self-destructing influence, challenging him to question his faith in God. The absence of this challenge testifies to a deep, lasting confidence built on faith.

Another reason for perseverance in faith can be found through a redefinition of suffering. There has been a subtle yet theologically problematic assumption thus far that suffering is apart from the will of God. To many, and particularly to the struggler, suffering is viewed as an entity on its own—an allowance of evil contrary to God and thus detached from Him and His control. Kosman challenges this view and redefines suffering in his poem, “Piyyut,” as he writes, “Blessed is the awesome creator of events / creator of all kinds of shouts and wails…” (lines 7-8). Kosman acknowledges God as creator of things both good and bad. With the interpretive freedom to view the shouts and wails as both joyful cheers and sad mourning, one sees God as creator of all human experience—including suffering. This forces a radically new perspective on hardship. No longer is suffering a causeless experience; it is essentially willed by God for some purpose beyond human comprehension. When God orchestrates the pain and suffering, the experience becomes more of a disciplining trial and less of a reason to forsake faith.

The story of Job is a prime example of God-willed suffering. In the opening prose section of the Book of Job, God overtly allows Satan to inflict painful sores on Job’s body, fully aware that Job was “innocent, upright, and God-fearing, and keeping himself apart from evil” (1:1). Although Job never curses God as Satan had suspected he would, Job still faces tremendous doubt about the reality of his God and the rationality of his faith. Ultimately, though Job is driven to “greater bitterness,” he is also driven to a “new and deeper faith,”[6] and one sees why God would allow for such suffering in the first place. Humans bear only a finite perspective, while God boasts an infinite one, thus empowering Him to see beyond current adversities and identify possibilities for growth and provisions of blessing that humans cannot see.

the nature of faith and the agency of poetry

Thus, the imperative to persevere is emphatic. To persevere through evil and suffering is a demanding and exhausting—almost impossible—work, and faith is distinguished by this near-impossibility. What good is faith if it is not problematic, does not conflict with popular views, challenges humanity to believe in the unbelievable? The presence of evil and suffering in this world is one of the most common attacks used by atheists. Their argument is, “If God does not act on the evil and suffering in this world, then he must not exist.” Of course, this argument is legitimate and rational to an extent. If God was all-powerful, why would he allow such pervasive violence in this world? But the very nature of faith is to believe against the rational human faculty, for it demands believing that there is a purpose to suffering, a hope amidst despair, and a reason for believing.

Clearly, faith is not a one-time act but an ongoing, lifelong endeavor, requiring the all of an individual. Particularly in times of agony, the experience of the believer in grasping faith is one of utmost disarray and frustration. The will to believe is enfeebled by the rounds of doubt that accompany the reaction to intense pain and suffering. Here, however, is where poetry finds a home—in the essential intensity of raw human experience, of battling the desire to give up and of persevering in faith to the end.

Jakob J. Petuchowski in Theology and Poetry argues that poetry is an appropriate form for theology, for the experience of faith in God is one that is insufficiently captured by rational discourse. This “primary experience,” as he refers to it, is hardly formulated “in propositions which will pass muster before the bar of logical rigor. We had, therefore, best express it in the images and the nuances of poetry.”[7] The poets above take full advantage of this agency of poetry, and their poems vary magnificently in their focus, scope, and style. Nevertheless, all are attempts by individuals to illustrate, illuminate, and understand the relationship between suffering and faith in God.

personal evaluation and concluding remarks

I find faith to be a complicated thing, especially considering life in a world full of evil, brokenness, and misery. But at the same time, I wonder if faith could thrive in a world full of goodness, perfection, and happiness. The reality of suffering found in poetry from all three periods attests to an obvious though disconcerting truism—there will always be suffering in this life. The focus then shifts to how humanity should respond to this suffering. I could see how one might consider suffering a valid enough reason to refuse faith in God, but I also see the increasing importance of faith as a response to secular ills. The impetus to persevere—detailed and examined in the poetry studied—is not without a measure of overwhelming hardship. Just as suffering is an inevitable part of life, so is struggle an inevitable part of perseverance in faith. However, this challenge to overcome should be an encouragement instead of a discouragement, for believing that the eventual conclusion is a stronger relationship with God and a deeper faith in Him and remembering these truths in times of struggle are empowering first steps towards the triumph of faith.

Suffering must be reconsidered. Too often has our human tendency been to deprecate suffering without giving it due recognition as a benefit to our lives. The example of Job alone teaches a palatable exhortation: endure the hardship, persevere in faith, and God will bless you. Somehow the simplicity of this message is distorted and lost in the clamor of busy schedules, ill advice, and materialistic inundation. The exhortation of the poets, I believe, is not to deny the reality of suffering nor suppress the raw human emotion during those times of suffering, but to realistically consider hardships in the grander context of God’s power and God’s “God-ness.” As creator of all things, God is and always will be in control. Humans will never understand completely the full reason for evil and suffering simply because humans are not God. Still, they must have faith that God is God and that He knows what He is doing. This is the triumph of faith amidst suffering: to wholeheartedly know that though life may disintegrate, it will—by God’s power—be formed “miraculously again.”[8]

[2] As identified by Meir Weiss in The Bible From Within, p.303.

[4] The idea of performative effect is further explored by Herbert Levine in Sing Unto God a New Song. He writes, “To acknowledge one’s sins with the consciousness that God hears our confession is to speak with performative effect.. …[T]he act of confession produces in us the awareness that we are loved by God” (Levine 98). While the situation here is somewhat dissimilar, the unifying thread is the ability to encounter comfort and/or resolution through the act of prayer.