Often, as a pastor, I say that part of my work is to “comfort the afflicted and afflict the comforted.” It may sound like a strange mantra to carry around in my back pocket, but it is powerful posture that has led me into some of the most amazing and surprising moments of life and hope.
To “comfort the afflicted” is to embrace and care for those who hurt. In times past this has meant that I’ve comforted those who ave suffered from illness or loss. At other times I’ve comforted both victims of crime and former prisoners who carry the guilt of their actions. But some hurt is less obvious. Experts have pointed to four kinds of hurt which are often hidden in our neighbourhoods today. The first is deep anxiety and the feeling of being worn out by expectations. The second is a pervasive sense of loneliness and wanting to be known by others. The third is a profound longing for something more in this life. And the fourth is the kind of busy-ness which often confuses activity for progress. In all of these hurts and pain we need comfort. But along with that we need counter-measures; intentional practices that change the forces pulling on our lives. Amidst the noise we are invited to hear God’s voice of ultimate comfort saying, “I know you, I love you and I like you. Come and rest in me.”
To “afflict the comforted” is to turn attention to those who may be indifferent to others. It is the careful process of helping those who are safely cocooned away from a hurting world and inviting them to engage, to care, to give, and to grow. In some ways we approach this in much the same way we care for those who are lonely or afraid. Many people who are already ‘comfortable’ may actually carry much of the same anxiety or busy-ness as those who hurt. They may feel safe in the world they created for themselves, but that does not mean they do not wonder if there is more to life, if real living might mean more than their own comfort. It may feel like an ‘affliction’ for those who are comfortable to step out of their routine to babysit a neighbour’s dog or generously welcome a new family into the neighbourhood. But it might be just these moments of care that bring a new and unexpected sense of joy and purpose.
So whether we identify as someone who is afflicted or as someone who is comfortable, one thing is true: we need others. We need a community that cares for us when we are hurt or anxious, and we need others to be the recipients of our kindness and generosity.
As we become those who are attentive to our need for comfort when we’re hurt, and to be challenged when we’re indifferent, we grow into God’s purposes for us. God’s comfort becomes more and more beautiful as we welcome God’s care, while God’s urging to step out of our cocoons and care for the others becomes more and more liberating. As we trust God, affliction and comfort can become stepping stones on the pathway of a life well lived.
