The focus of this newsletter has been to highlight the harsh realities of life and ministry during the war in Ukraine. Their stories are sobering: air raid sirens, blackouts, freezing winters, destroyed infrastructure and displaced families, and yet faithful ministry continues in the middle of it all. When we are confronted with suffering on the scale of war, quieter forms of pain and suffering can begin to feel almost too small to mention.
We have probably all heard someone in a difficult season say something like '...but it's not that bad, others have it far worse.' That may well be so, but it doesn't change the reality of their situation, and it certainly doesn't heal their pain.
Ana* is an elderly Jewish follower of Jesus who knows this kind of suffering well. She has lived a difficult life and carries the scars and pangs of both physical and emotional pain. Arthritis and numerous operations have left her dependent on frequent visits to medical specialists. Broken relationships have left their wounds, too, in the heartache of a son who has completely cut off contact with her. On top of this, Ana has experienced rejection from the Jewish community she was once deeply connected to.
She often wrestles with her purpose in life. She feels that she still has much to offer, but her health and chronic pain make it difficult for her to serve in volunteer roles, let alone fill a permanent position. Her suffering is not the suffering of a war zone, but it is still real; it is still painful -- and it matters to the Lord.
As Aaron reminds us in his letter, Scripture does not promise us a life devoid of suffering, but the Lord does guarantee us His presence within it. To Jacob, the Lord's promise was never 'and it will go well with you', or 'and you will succeed and overcome'; His promise was far greater: 'Behold, I am with you and will keep you wherever you go' (Genesis 28:15a). And to Paul, in the midst of weakness and affliction, the Lord said: 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness' (2 Corinthians 12:9a).
This is the message of hope we are privileged to share with Jewish people like Ana. We do not need to live in the middle of a war zone to cry out to Him. The same God who told Moses that He had surely seen the affliction of His people, heard their cries and knew their sufferings, still sees, hears and knows His people today. He does not overlook the widow, the orphan, the rejected, the sick or the forgotten.
We remind Ana that the Lord who remembers even the sparrows, sold for pennies, also remembers her -- and that she is worth far more than many sparrows. We remind her that her life still has purpose, not because she can do as much as she once could, but because she belongs to the Messiah who will never leave or forsake her.
Not every Jewish person we minister to suffers in the same way Ana does, but each one of them carries a burden. Some suffer because of life's circumstances, others suffer physically, and yet others suffer because of rejection, loneliness or strained family relationships. Whatever form that suffering takes, we have the privilege of opening the Scriptures together, praying with them and pointing them to the God who is near to the broken-hearted.
And as fellow children of God, and heirs with Messiah, we hold fast to the promise that if indeed we suffer with Messiah, we will also be glorified with Him (Romans 8:16--17). Until that day, we continue to remind Jewish people like Ana that their pain is not unseen, their cries are not unheard and their lives are not forgotten.
In Him who keeps us in perfect peace,
Rob Berman
*Name changed to protect identity.