The Proper Use of Pathos

Anyone who has lived long enough has experienced something of sorrow and grief. There is no doubt that we find it difficult. Of all the emotions, it is probably the least desired. So how is it that some strange, contradictory desire for pathos lurks within us?

We watch tragic movies. We listen to hauntingly beautiful music. We wander the forgotten shores of lost dreams. We feel the bite of the wind on our face, yet we do not turn away. We deliberately walk through the waters of the whole world’s sorrows, allowing ourselves to be overcome.

There is no doubt that the world is filled with noble tragedies—stories of honor and courage that end in death, the suffering of children, the abuse of the weak, the terrible injustice that one man can inflict upon another. Such is the bittersweet nature of our world: beautiful, fallen, full of joy and sorrow.

Ecclesiastes 3:4 says that there is “a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance…” But what is that time to weep? What is that time to mourn? Is weeping only for earthly things, or for spiritual things also?

Paul told the Corinthians that he had more reason to boast than the false prophets who had crept in among them. Among his list of credentials were the many ways that he had suffered. He said,

I have worked much harder, been in prison more frequently, been flogged more severely, and been exposed to death again and again. Five times I received from the Jews the forty lashes minus one. Three times I was beaten with rods, once I was stoned, three times I was shipwrecked, I spent a night and a day in the open sea, I have been constantly on the move. I have been in danger from rivers, in danger from bandits, in danger from my own countrymen, in danger from Gentiles; in danger in the city, in danger in the country, in danger at sea; and in danger from false brothers. I have labored and toiled and have often gone without sleep; I have known hunger and thirst and have often gone without food; I have been cold and naked.
2 Corinthians 11:23-28

Yet, if you think this is impressive, let us consider Christ and His credentials. Jesus Christ, the Son of the Living God, gave up His just entitlement of position, power, and authority, and allowed himself to dwell in the vessel of a creature. And not only this, but He chose to be born in obscurity, poverty, and disgrace, and to live a life which was “familiar with suffering.” He willingly submitted to death on a cross, bore the sins of the world and faced the furious wrath of God His Father, although he was blameless and true. Jesus chose to be made “perfect in suffering” for the sake of His friends, His church, His bride.

And so I conclude that the proper use of pathos is this: to bring glory to God. For if anyone feels that their life has sadness, Christ has experienced it more deeply. If any injustice, Christ has endured more profoundly. If grief, that grief cannot begin to compare with the weight of His Father’s wrath. If a noble tragedy, Christ’s tragedy is nobler. There is no earthly sorrow greater than Christ’s.

But let us also consider His joy. For Christ overcame every trial and became Lord and Master of all. He pleased His Father in His obedience, and restored all of creation to Himself. Moreover, He rescued His Church, His beloved, His bride.

Yes, we will experience pathos. And I believe that we are meant to experience these depths as fully as the joys and pleasures of life, for it is in this way that we may share some small taste of the immeasurable joys and sorrows of Christ, and so, to honor Him rightly, and to glorify and praise Him all the more.

Thinking Biblically

Therefore, I urge you, brothers, in view of God's mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God—this is your spiritual act of worship. Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. (Rom. 12:1-2)

It is difficult to think biblically.

For those of us raised in a secular home, thinking biblically is not just a matter of overcoming the absence of faith in our household, or the omission of God in our textbooks. It is a complete reformation of our fundamental values and beliefs.

Our character was formed like a coral forest—thought upon thought and action upon action. And though the newly-formed branches may be well-considered, the ancient forests of old thinking are increasingly hidden under layers of silt. And this would be well, if the ancient layers were right and true.

But in the secular home, all was not laid down right and true. And like disease in the coral, the results are sad but inevitable. First, that the disease will likely be carried throughout that whole system of thought, corrupting even the best intentions and well-planned actions. Second, that these entire branches must eventually give way, causing deep wounds to the whole.

It is our nature, upon conversion, to comply outwardly to some standard of Christianity that we perceive in our mentors, and to feel success and satisfaction in the living of a “good life.” And here is where we feel that we have almost finished (that we are only a few bad habits away from winning the race). But it is likely that the most deceived souls linger here, because it is so easy—so consistent with our nature—to exercise restraint in the body without ever allowing the deep work of Christ to renew our minds.

Our inclination to measure all things by ourselves obscures our ability to see God’s providence. Instead of making Christ the subject of our heart and mind and soul, we make Him the fuzzy background in a picture focused on ourselves. And so, acts of “spiritual worship” will always ring hollow without the Copernican shift of a renewed mind. Christ is at the centre.

Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. (2 Corinthians 4:16-18)