Are trials worth it? – Part 3

Trials are various, they are inevitable and on top of that, they are unexpected. And yet God, through James, demands that we rejoice. And from what James writes in James 1:2-3, we do have reason to rejoice because we know that trials have consequences—good consequences. The immediate result of various, inevitable, and unexpected trials is refined faith that endures to the end. That is worth a lot. That is truly profitable.

[In case you missed Part 1 and 2 of this series, you can find them here and here.]

The ultimate reason 

Yet, while endurance is the immediate result, and as profitable as endurance is, it is not the ultimate goal of testing because James says more in the next verse: “And let endurance have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing”.

Straightaway, we see that James is giving us another command. He tells his readers and us to let endurance have its full effect and do its perfect work. In other words, the benefits of testing come only to those of us who actually remain enduring—we must, therefore, persevere through our trials again and again, and it is as we exhibit our durability that we are made more perfect and complete.

The benefits of testing come only to those of us who actually remain enduring

As practising architects, most projects we handle take at least a year to complete. Several months are spent designing and many more months in actual construction. And during all that time, our clients can find it very hard to imagine what the final product is going to be like. While we make models and show photo-realistic images, it’s quite another thing to see construction happening live. For most of the construction period, the rooms look smaller than they are, darker than they should be, with holes in unexpected places and debris, equipment and mess everywhere. In all of that chaos, our clients wait patiently with bated breath because they know that we, as architects, know where all of this mess is going. We know what the finished product is going to look like. It takes time, and it is messy. But oh, the joy at the end when all is complete! 

Now, imagine if the client, not liking the mess, left his building unfinished? Just like that, amid all the trials, we ought to continue to endure as the sovereign Architect and Builder chips away at us. He knows what He’s doing. He knows and sees the finished product well in advance, and we should see and know Him and His purposes.

What is God’s ultimate purpose? And what is that finished product? James repeatedly uses superlatives – “that we may be perfect, complete and (as if that were not enough) lacking in nothing”. James is holding before us exactly what God desires for us to be—the man or woman par excellence! An image-bearer who is perfect just as their heavenly Father is perfect. He is presenting to us the final model, the great design—a maturity of character that reflects the perfections of God. To be clear, He is not only talking about a state of sinlessness, nor saying that we will attain this one on this side of the parousia (the second coming), but that does not mean we lower the bar of expectation or hope.

Is Christlikeness worth it?

Let me try and put all of that slightly differently. Which man perfectly embodies perfect and complete, lacking in nothing? Jesus Christ. And is not God’s goal for His children to be conformed into the image of His Son (Romans 8:28-30, Ephesians 4:13)?

Is not God’s goal for His children to be conformed into the image of His Son!

So how do you and I become mature and Christlike? Various, inevitable, unexpected, refining trials are God’s means to make us enduring people who grow more and more like Jesus. And we have to run our race with endurance, just like Jesus endured to the end and endured the cross for the joy that was set before Him (Hebrews 12:2). He is the man who is perfect and complete, lacking in nothing. Here, then, is our example. Here is our Elder Brother.

Olympic athletes don’t get on the podium by accident. Decades of training, blood, sweat and pain. Do they like and enjoy all of that? I’m not sure. But is not all of that gruelling ordeal worth it when they clinch that medal of gold? What, then, is worth it to us? Is our mission in life to be conformed to the image of Christ? Is Jesus our vision in life?

Let me put it in accounting terms: Is Christlike maturity truly profitable to me?

These questions of profitability can, with a silver slip of the tongue, be answered with a yes, but what about our hearts? And if we feel weak and inept, discouraged at what we do find in our hearts, may I humbly suggest things that might seem all too familiar? I suggest that because God does as well. If right accounting stems from right knowledge, may I suggest that we spend time with God to know God more? Our joy is not isolated from our habits of prayer, Bible reading, Bible study and fellowship. And don’t let anything stop you. Spend time with your Father every day, week in, and week out, year in and year out. If you miss a day, make sure you don’t miss two.

Then we can respond with joy, as we see trials as profitable and worth it—when we know and value what God is doing—one, the immediate result of trials: endurance, and two, the ultimate reason for trials: Christlikeness.

A symptom of the heart

If endurance and Christlikeness are worth it and profitable to me, and trials are God’s way of bringing about endurance and Christlikeness, then a response of joy is the most natural response to trials—a symptom of what my heart values. If I truly desire Christlikeness, and trials make that possible, I will rejoice!

I love how the apostle Paul also puts this in profit and loss terms. By the world’s standard, he was an awful accountant. But he was one of the best in the business: “But whatever gain (profit) I had, I (ac)counted as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I (ac)count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth (profit/value) of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For His sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as dung, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him,…” (Philippians 3:7-9). Paul wrote that in prison. He was not being glib or trite.

Can we say that Christlikeness is worth it?

It is easy to find joy in success. It’s easy to be a prime athlete and confess Christ at the peak of success. But it takes deep foundations to find joy despite the difficulty. I am reminded of those that lost loved ones in the past two years, I am reminded of the often-ignored mother and the unacknowledged wife who give up much every day for her children and husband, I am reminded of my brother who faithfully serves his workplace without pay. I am reminded of my sister who is suffocating with cancer, away from her husband after just losing her father. I am reminded of my brother whose sister was snatched away and my sister who fights for joy amid terminal illness. These are mighty men and women who have pain but have joy—joy that runs deeper than the pain. Make no mistake: the pain is real. The frustrations are real. But the joy is deeper because their hearts see what God is doing. We need to do our mathematics right. We need to get the eyes of our hearts reoriented. We need to see.

To get there, we need to know something: the variety of trials that we encounter, be it the sighing of sleepless nights to the sorrow of forever-sleeping loved ones—all these difficult situations are servants from our loving Father, sent with a singular purpose: to make His beloved children endure to the point of Christlikeness. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison (2 Corinthians 4:17). Therein lies joy. Oh, how hard that light momentary affliction is. It blinds us in tears. But can we see, albeit with blurry eyes, that incomparably valuable eternal weight of glory? Can we say, albeit with a trembling voice, that Christlikeness is worth it?