If you were asked, “What is the greatest treasure in the world?” how would you answer? Most might say something like relationships, good health, knowledge, or financial security, all of which are undeniably good things. I likely would have said something similar a year ago, before I began to seriously explore the Catholic faith.
I grew up in a Southern Baptist church and attended a private Southern Baptist school, both of which I’m deeply grateful for. There, I was taught that suffering is something to endure, pray through, or, if possible, escape. It was often presented as a consequence of the Fall, a curse brought into the world by sin, and we were encouraged to pray for deliverance from it.
While it was acknowledged that God could use suffering for our growth or for His glory, it sometimes seemed that prolonged suffering pointed to a lack of faith or trust in God’s plan. This emphasis, while well-intentioned, can unintentionally lead to guilt, confusion, spiritual passivity, or the feeling that suffering is a sign of God's displeasure or distance.
Now, however, my answer is very different, and perhaps a bit paradoxical. Catholicism has changed how I view pain, hardship, and loss. I now see suffering not as a meaningless burden, but as something that can be offered, transformed, and even embraced.
A quote often attributed to St. John Vianney captures it beautifully:
“Suffering is the greatest treasure on earth; it purifies the soul.”
A New Purpose For Suffering
Catholicism radically changed how I understood suffering. As I investigated the Catholic faith, I came to see that suffering is not simply something to be endured or escaped, but something that can be offered, transformed, and even shared with Christ. Providentially, my investigation into the Catholic Church’s teaching on suffering coincided with several unexpected crosses that God has asked me to bear. The Catholic Church teaches that while suffering entered the world through sin, it was redeemed by Jesus through His Passion and death:
“By his Passion and death on the cross Christ has given a new meaning to suffering: it can henceforth configure us to him and unite us with his redemptive Passion.”
— Catechism of the Catholic Church, §1505
Just as was prophesied in Isaiah 53, Christ, as the atoning sacrifice, bore our griefs and carried our sorrows. He took on the worst of human suffering and made it a means of grace, not just a sign of the Fall. Because of Him, suffering is no longer pointless or merely punitive; we can participate in His redemption by uniting our suffering to His.
“Offering it up” is a new idea for me, but one I am happy to embrace. It brings me joy to know that what I endure can be offered to God for the good of others, for their salvation, for the conversion of sinners, for the Church, and for the souls in purgatory.
This gives suffering so much meaning and purpose. Even the smallest of sufferings, I can give to Him for the sake of others and as a means of becoming more like Christ.
The Cross: Death Transformed
I had my doubts about the Catholic Church’s claims on suffering. But when I did what any good Protestant would do, and turned to my Bible, I found that these claims are present throughout Scripture, especially in the letters of Paul, who certainly understood what it means to suffer.
Saint Paul affirmed this mystery when he said, “I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I complete what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the church” (Colossians 1:24).1
Without the belief that suffering can be joined to Christ’s Passion and offered in love for others, suffering was merely something I had to endure, rather than something I could offer up to God and use to be more united with him. Without this understanding, I often wondered if my suffering was a sign that God was disappointed or distant. And when prayer didn’t bring relief, it sometimes felt like I had been abandoned.
Now, I see that I had missed the depth and dignity of suffering and the invitation to participate in it with Christ. The Church does not romanticize suffering or seek it for its own sake; rather, she recognizes that Christ has redeemed it and now invites us to share in His love through it.
In a world that runs from discomfort and numbs itself to every inconvenience, Catholicism teaches us not to flee from the Cross, but to carry it. What once symbolized defeat is now the sign of redemption and love. Through the Cross, Christ has transformed even our darkest moments into opportunities for grace.
It is amazing to contemplate that at the center of our faith lies a profound paradox: the Cross. Once a tool of torture and shame, the Cross has become the world’s greatest gift. It is both death and life, suffering and joy. Christ did not come to remove all death and suffering, but by entering into them, He redeemed them for our good.
The Cross is what makes suffering, when united to Him, the greatest treasure on earth: it becomes a way to love more deeply, to grow in holiness, and to draw nearer to the heart of Christ.
No one ought to desire suffering, and the Church does not ask us to seek it, but when it comes, and it always does, we are no longer helpless in its shadow. We are invited to unite it to the Cross.
Final Thoughts
In our suffering, we are not alone. In Christ, our suffering matters. When received with love and offered in faith, suffering becomes sanctified. It is my hope that others, too, would learn to rejoice in their sufferings, so that together we may take our place in Christ’s afflictions, for His sake, and for the sake of His Church. Over the last year, I have had my own share of suffering. I can honestly say, I would not have chosen this suffering for myself, but now I see the blessing and opportunity my Lord has given me through it.
May Christ, who sanctified suffering on his cross,
be your strength in every tribulation.
May your suffering be a light for others,
that they may see the cross in their darkness.
And may the saints who have suffered before you,
draw you nearer to Christ through their intercession.
Amen.
Footnotes:
1 See also 2 Corinthians 1:5-7; Philippians 3:10; Romans 8:17.
Wow, wow, wow! Thank you, Chris, for this cargo of truth.