Commentary on Romans 5:1-11

Paul’s pithy saying that “suffering produces endurance” (Romans 5:3) encapsulates the human intuition that suffering is meant to have a purpose. We could think of Paul’s verse as an anticipation of the contemporary “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” 

This English idiom finds its musical manifestation in Kelly Clarkson’s song “What Doesn’t Kill You,” released in 2007. This track achieved significant global acclaim, reaching the pinnacle of the Billboard Hot 100 for two consecutive weeks and securing top positions in several countries. The song’s melody is undeniably catchy, while its lyrics encapsulate a prevalent Western ethos centered on resilience and virtue. Furthermore, within queer culture, it has attained iconic status for its ability to succinctly articulate a fundamental aspect of LGBTQ+ existence: the capacity to endure and flourish despite social rejection.

The idea that adversity can foster character and virtue is undoubtedly not a modern invention; it has deep roots in ancient mythology. Greek myths richly illustrate the concept of the hero shaped by trials and tribulations. For instance, Hercules undertook 12 labors, each serving as a test of his physical prowess and mental strength. Similarly, Prometheus faced severe retribution for defying the gods in an effort to benefit humanity. His act of stealing fire embodies the enduring struggle and suffering that can ultimately pave the way for strength. Perhaps the most notable example is Odysseus, whose odyssey involves significant trials that foster growth through hardship and resilience.

The Hebrew Bible also presents numerous illustrations of this principle. We find a compelling example in the Aqedah (Genesis 22:1–19), where Abraham’s faith is tested through a seemingly illogical command. Through his internal conflict over sacrificing his son, Abraham emerges as a paragon of faith and fortitude. In a similar vein, the figure of Job epitomizes this principle. Once a prosperous man, Job faces profound suffering—losing his wealth, health, and family—but ultimately achieves a deeper understanding of and relationship with Yahweh through his trials.

Kelly Clarkson’s anthem closely resembles key cultural figures who exemplify this resilience. For instance, the character of Rocky Balboa from the movie “Rocky” (1976) illustrates the journey of an underdog boxer confronting both physical and emotional challenges. His relentless training and commitment reveal that hardship and pain are instrumental in building personal strength. 

Similarly, in “The Lion King” (1994), Simba faces significant adversity following his father’s death. His journey from living in exile to reclaiming his throne exemplifies personal growth stemming from trauma, highlighting broader themes of responsibility and resilience. Simba’s eventual return poignantly illustrates how confronting and overcoming adversity can fortify character and enhance leadership abilities, deeply resonating with the saying mentioned above.

Any reader familiar with feminist literary analysis will notice that many of the examples discussed are framed predominantly around male experiences. While there are indeed instances of female characters who achieve their strength through various challenges, the Western archetype of the (male) hero fundamentally relies on the notion that true strength is cultivated through adversity. This trend raises a pertinent question: Is there a distinctly Christ-centered interpretation of this principle? This question is crucial because it puts on the table the central Christian phenomenon: the crucifixion and resurrection. After all, if we center these two events, the saying shifts: “What does kill you makes you stronger.” 

Paul, likely addressing an audience facing some form of conflict, captures their attention by pointing out that rejoicing in sufferings and tribulations (5:3) leads to endurance or perseverance. So far, so good. However, Paul’s argument goes further in explaining suffering and perseverance. If suffering produces endurance, then endurance shapes character: If it doesn’t kill you, your character will be strengthened.

Paul further argues that the strength gained from perseverance fosters hope. This introduces a new perspective on the connection between suffering and resilience. It’s common to notice a sense of cynicism in those who face many challenges, as if they no longer anticipate much from life. In fact, there is a hidden cynicism in the saying “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,” because it implies that everything that happens has a negative side: It will either kill you or make you stronger, and both outcomes stem from an adverse event. 

But if, as Paul suggests, such perseverance yields hope, there is no room for cynicism in the Christian imagination: Suffering creates resilience, and this dynamic drives the believer into a cycle of hope. 

For Paul, hope is not human-made but a gift of the Spirit (5:5) that has been manifested in the fact that Christ died for us (5:8). Later, Paul makes a simple but profound pronouncement on hope: “We were saved in hope. Now, hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what is seen?” (8:24). Paul is undoubtedly correct that hope, very much like faith, is, by definition, not empirical. However, if we follow his rationale in this passage, hope is not an illusion either, as it is cemented by the character and virtue that arise from suffering. 

Ultimately, “What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger” both captures and misrepresents Paul’s ultimate anthropological argument. In Romans 5:3, since “suffering yields endurance,” Paul would seem to endorse the philosophy behind the contemporary saying. However, since Paul argues that hope is the goal and the origin of the ensuing strength, his rhetoric divests itself from the implied cynicism that characterizes Kelly Clarkson’s hit.