Three simple questions reach to the heart of the problem of suffering: Who suffers? Who causes suffering? Who alleviates suffering? At first thought, it might seem that these questions are trivial—we can simply look around, for example, to see who is suffering. But a second look reveals that we all suffer at various times, and a third look suggests that the identity we accept for ourselves has much to do with suffering. So often, we suffer over our inability to live up to some image we hold about how we are supposed to be economically, socially, physically, and spiritually. Our suffering may be the survival struggle of false images or gods within us. The ego, for example, tracks the spiritual self like a shadow—one seeking expression of divine qualities, the other running from the oblivion of its own impermanence.

Most suffering, it would seem, happens to us as we cling to the garbs of false identity. There are other causes of suffering, not to be reduced in any way. Loss of loved ones, pain, hunger, loss of home and security are rampant around the world. But even here, the question of identity has a bearing. I believe that it is only from within a false identity that we are able to blind ourselves to the suffering of others. Power of all types has a tendency to blind. It is in assuming a false identity—such as control even though we are largely powerless as human beings—that we tend to lift our seeming needs above those of others. The false identity clings to qualities it knows it cannot have, such as immortality, protection from change, or control of the future. From this position of fear, it must deny any sense of powerlessness and, thus, deny the humanity of those who are powerless. But the process occurs almost imperceptibly, and we are often blind to those we harm in silent and indirect ways.

When compassion enters our hearts, we are often drawn to assist those who suffer. This path begins an important journey of healing. At first, we might offer help from a position of strength. This impulse moves us in a healing direction, but it is only a first step. It is a step back towards the true self, facing the shadows of our own fear that we once imposed on the images of others. The next steps are perhaps more difficult, for we must finally shed the cloak of false power we have wrapped around ourselves. We begin to see that there is no difference between ourselves and others, that there is no safety in worldly charms (power, money, etc), that only in our shared, simple nakedness before God are we even truly alive. All the rest has been the shades of death and cruel trickery. It is here that suffering begins to end—when we meet another in the humility of our powerlessness. I believe that Jesus was in part pointing to this truth when he asked the rich man to give up all that he owned and follow. Until he could release all the false safety, walls, and illusions of superiority, he could truly meet neither his fellow beings nor his Master.

The three questions of who tell us much about ourselves. It is we who, in our false garbs of identity, suffer, cause suffering, and begin the journey to alleviate suffering. It is we who, once we begin to shed these garbs, find the only true release from suffering—both our own anguish and that of others. We can never uphold our own fears and protection and at the same time experience full presence with the pain of our fellow beings. Jesus showed us by example that the finite, even His own physical life, could not stand in the way of truth. His suffering was the ultimate act of sacrifice—the victory of love in the face of all danger. The work of ending suffering begins deep within our own hearts. It is here that we will discover all the barriers to love that create the ills of the world and perpetuate suffering.