Learning to Live in the Contrast
It could not have looked good at all to Mary. Her son had been falsely accused and sentenced to death. There was an incomprehensible finality when Pilate washed his hands and made his final declaration, “See ye to it.” Thereby, giving authority for the crucifixion of Jesus.
This is the same Pilate who had declared only moments before, “I find in him no fault at all.”
A stark contrast between a faultless captive and a convicted criminal.
Jesus also stood in the contrast of God’s will and his own fate. Even with all knowing, understanding, revelation, and being filled with the very Spirit of God, Jesus in his physical form said, “If it be possible, let this cup pass from me.” In faith he followed with, “Nevertheless, not as I will, but as thou wilt.”
His mother, Mary had stood in this contrast for decades, knowing the precious gift of life charged to her by God Himself, was also “set for the fall and rising again of many in Israel.”
She had pondered for years, tucking away bits of hope and questions in her heart.
Something about Mary’s journey had shaped her. It had constructed her faith in such a way that she remained both curious and committed, despite witnessing the devastating death of her son and Israel’s hope.
The prophet Simeon had told her years before, “A sword shall pierce through thy own soul, also.” She bore that pain as Jesus hung on the cross. She stood in the midst of catastrophic loss and yet, she tethered herself to faith.
How do we know?
Because when the Holy Ghost was poured out on the day of Pentecost a short time later, Mary was there. She was in the upper room, waiting, seeking, and praying with the faithful. She lost her son. The people lost their hope. And yet a remnant of individuals remained active in faith. They were all living in the contrast—and believing through it.
And there, in the middle of their waiting, the promise of Jesus was fulfilled. What had looked like an ending became the beginning of something they could not yet have imagined.
Where is God's goodness in difficult seasons?
The Goodness of the Lord
King David wrote about this same dilemma a thousand years earlier. In Psalm 27, we find him in both lamentation and in worship. “And now shall mine head be lifted up above mine enemies round about me: therefore will I offer in his tabernacle sacrifices of joy; I will sing, yea, I will sing praises unto the Lord.”
As David faced his enemies, who sought after him for death, he still worshipped the Lord through it all. Time and time again.
David goes on to declare, “I had fainted, unless I had believed to see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.”
The goodness of the Lord.
It feels easy to say the Lord is good when life is going well. When the bills are paid, everyone is in good health, when joy leads the day, your coffee is fresh, and your worries are small and manageable.
It feels impossible to say when things turn painful, confusing or deeply unfair.
Where is the goodness of the Lord then?
When Goodness Feels Hard To See
Scripture continually presents us with contrast. God is merciful, loving, faithful, and good. Yet, Scripture also contains judgment, destruction, suffering, grief, and loss.
Our life events may be different, but the burden of humanity has not changed. We are feeling, loving, hopeful people having very raw and gritty human experiences.
We have stood in seasons where things were beyond repair, where it all unraveled ten times faster than it went together. We have heard the diagnosis, received impossible news, felt the weight of abandonment and rejection. Doors have closed, locks have turned, phones are silent. Grief overwhelms us.
We wrestle, we war, we fight back on the inside. We could not possibly hear of goodness in a time like this. What is good? Nothing. Nothing is good. Is it?
What Does It Mean That God Is Good?
We hear of the goodness of God, but what does that even mean? Goodness is not simply something that God does. Goodness is part of God’s character. God is merciful, gracious, longsuffering, truthful, holy, honest, and just. Exodus 34 says he is “abundant in goodness and truth.” Goodness is part of his unchanging character and his perfect counsel.
For the Lord is good; his mercy is everlasting; and his truth endureth to all generations. —Psalm 100:5
Exodus 34 goes on to say God is, “keeping mercy for thousands, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin, and that will by no means clear the guilty.” Clear contrast in a single sentence. Suddenly, we have a very different picture of goodness. One that shows us forgiveness alongside judgment, mercy alongside guilt. Through this contrast we see that goodness does not always mean pleasantness. Goodness is humble and strong, righteous and fair.
God’s goodness does not exist apart from His holiness. It also does not exist apart from what is just and true.
God forgives, yet He also holds people accountable. God is merciful, yet Scripture also shows Him judging evil. God protects Israel, yet He later calls out Israel when they become corrupt and unjust.
No matter the circumstance, the goodness of God does not change, because it is part of who and what He is.
God is able to heal and do the miraculous, yet sometimes we walk through extremely difficult seasons. There are times when God answers pain with healing. Sometimes He answers it with presence. Both reveal something about His heart. Hebrews 4:15 says, “For we have not an high priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities…”
God is full of power—and compassion. We may find ourselves living in the contrast of wanting the pain to be removed while trusting the faithfulness of God even when it’s not.
Circumstances can bring questions that challenge our faith.
When Faith and Circumstance Do Not Match
Contrast occurs when we are bearing what is right and good along with what is heavy and grievous. Still, having faith does not require us to resolve every tension right away. Sometimes we live between what we know about God’s character and what we do not fully understand about His actions or our circumstance.
We encounter this tension not only in Scripture, but in hospital rooms, gravesides, divorce papers, accidents, betrayal, loss, devastating diagnoses, grief, and unanswered prayer. We often wonder why God did not step in to prevent our pain. Why did He let it happen in the first place?
One reality eventually confronts us all: no human life escapes pain. Some suffering is far deeper and greater than others. Yet, at some point we all will bear grief in some form. I want to pause to gently add we should be careful not to minimize another person’s suffering by comparing it to our own. Our experiences carry different weight for us all. They are all valid. They all affect our journey in different ways—and sometimes even our faith.
To be human means that at some point we will encounter something and experience something that does not fit neatly beside the statement: God is good. We will wrestle with the circumstances of our experience. We will respond with our own contrast of faith and grief, confusion and disbelief.
I have lived in the contrast of barely being able to receive the goodness of the Lord when it was divorce that brought me broken and crumbled to pieces at His feet. I have wrestled with needing his provision, compassion, and grace, while lamenting the shortcomings and loss that prompted me to ask. So much contrast between faith and failure, hope and grief, loss and promise, life and circumstance.
Not Everything Is Good—But God Still Is
Although we know God is good, Scripture does not say everything that happens is good. It says that God can work all things for good. That is an important distinction.
This means we can say that cancer, abuse, death, injustice, heartache, loneliness, and sorrow are not good—yet, God is still good. His character is still good. His promises are still good. The place He is preparing for me is still good. The hope of heaven is still good. The provision he has given in sunshine, rain, nourishment, balance, order, healing, friendship, compassion, grace, and His Spirit is still good. The love He has for us is still good. The testimony he can build in us is still good.
We can hold these statements together:
This hurt me.
I did not want this.
I do not understand it.
I would not have chosen it.
And I still believe God is good.
Suffering cannot exhaust everything good that remains. Just as the sun came up today, there will still be mercy, grace, beauty, friendship, laughter, purpose, and moments of peace that can occur inside our day. We will find unexpected encouragement, perhaps in people we have not yet met, and places that we have not yet been. There will be things we understand only later, as goodness continues to meet us in ways we cannot yet imagine.
We admit the journey through suffering has been incredibly difficult to walk and even more impossible to understand.
Yet, goodness remains.
Life Beyond the Loss
Mary’s story is proof that there is still life beyond the circumstance that devastated her. She stood in this contrast, grieving a loss almost impossible to comprehend—and then rejoiced in ways she could not have predicted for herself and those around her when the Spirit of God came into their midst and rested on each and every one of them. Although Jesus had been taken in death, His words were fulfilled. His message spread from there, reaching into the far corners of the earth, where it continues to this day.
This is still the salvation, grace, and very same Spirit—so freely given—that we also receive.
Hope In the Land of the Living
God’s goodness is revealed in His faithfulness, despite the circumstances around us.
Faith often lives in that space.
- Sometimes God feels silent.
- Sometimes prayers remain unanswered.
- Sometimes healing does not come the way we hoped.
- Sometimes restoration looks different from what we asked for.
- Sometimes we do not understand why something was allowed.
Yet, we still have hope. We still have promise. We still have reasons to believe. Whether we can see them yet or not.
If you think that does not apply to you, that your circumstance is too big, too much, too far gone, too absolute, too finished—you are not alone. Grief is the language of love and mourning. Lamentation is the language of loss, sorrow, longing, and sometimes regret.
We can bear these emotions side by side with our hope. We can offer God both our fears and our future. We can offer Him our confusion and our desires.
Matthew 11:28 prompts us, “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”
Rest. Refreshing. Peace. Hope. Joy. In His goodness.
I may not understand everything I see. I may not call everything that has happened good. But, like David, I can still believe I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Like Mary, I can rejoice to see salvation in the midst of loss. I can continue to hope for a future that is shaped by, but not limited to, the circumstances of today.
As sure as we take our next breath, we can hold on to goodness. Even as we make our way through the contrast.
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