To say that's a BIG question is the understatement of the millenium. To a lot of people, it's THE stumbling block to faith. Is such the case for this reader (who, with the exception of an email address, remains anonymous)? Perhaps it's unfair (or irrelevant) to speculate.
The temptation here is to be religiously glib, to spout some pious
platitude with a stained glass veneer and walk on as if the question - and the person asking it -
really don't matter. I've had others do that to me, and I hate it. But even so, that's a tough temptation to resist. I don't know
if I can.
The short answer, the one I've always heard (and accepted, at least on the surface) goes a little something like this: Suffering, pain, etc. are direct results of The Fall (a.k.a. humanity's introduction of sin into the world). Creation itself has fallen under the burden of our rebellion against God. We've chosen the condition (going our own way rather submitting to God); now we're suffering the consequences. It's not something that God's doing to "punish" us or "drive" us toward Him - it's just the nature of reality, just like it's the nature of gravity to cause you to fall if you step off the roof. Fortunately, Christ defeated the power of sin and evil through his death, burial, and resurrection. The Kingdom of God that Jesus Christ ushered into the world is currently at work restoring everything to its original condition, a work that will not be complete until He returns to earth. Our task as Christians is to proclaim the availability of that present Kingdom and join with the risen Christ in the Kingdom's work of restoring creation, including humanity, to complete harmony with God.
Did you get all that? ;-}
Still, something within us rages against suffering, and with good reason: we recognize it's not the way things are supposed to be. While a "big picture" explanation like the above may do just fine when speaking about suffering generally, it doesn't always give us what we're looking for when faced with specific situations. Why does THIS particular person, place or thing suffer in THIS specific way? We want a neat answer. We want to learn what caused this so we can avoid it. In short, we want control.
And when I say "we," I include myself, too.
I've asked the "why" question a lot lately. Why does a woman who was just starting to enjoy life get terminal cancer? Why does a man who begged God not to take his mind away from him end up dying of dementia? Why does another man who's taking such immaculate care of himself all his life suddenly have the kind of health problems usually caused by bad habits? I can't conceive of any answer that will make me go, "Oh, okay - I guess
that makes sense."
Knowing that, I find myself wanting to challenge the questions above (and the underlying assumptions) rather than attempt to answer them:
- Why is suffering always assumed to be God's fault? Why do we never ask why WE allow suffering? Aren't we directly to blame for much of it through human actions and systems like pollution, regressive taxation, etc.? (I often wondered, in the wake of 9/11, if God was asking us the same question we were busy asking him: "Why did you let this happen?")
- Does anyone really seek God in the absence of pain? (I know I usually don't.) If the choice was between pain-with-God and no-pain-without-God, which would most of us choose?
- Is there ANY answer to this question that would make my suffering or that of people I love somehow less painful? Would ANY answer ever satisfy?
- Can you really disconnect a proper response to suffering from its place in humanity's relationship to God, as my questioner attempts to? Wouldn't the latter dictate the former?
- And then there's the really blunt (and soul-searching) question that Dallas Willard asks: "Why shouldn't I suffer? Have I got something better to do?" (Think about it - it's not as ludicrous as it sounds.)
As my college professors used to tell me (much to my chagrin),
if you want better answers, ask better questions. Jesus was a master (okay,
The Master) of getting people to see that they were asking the wrong question to start with, which explained why the answers were so unsatisfying.
Consider the lawyer who asked Jesus, "So, if I'm supposed to love my neighbor, then who
is my neighbor?" [Luke 10:25-37] Jesus doesn't answer the question, really; He doesn't chide the lawyer for asking it, either (though He had every right to). He simply tells a story about a victim of a roadside robbery and describes the various responses from passersby. Then He asks His own question: "Who was most like a neighbor to the beaten man?" The lawyer, totally taken aback, answers, "The one who helped him," to which Jesus responds, "Go and do the same." The lawyer's question is completely turned on its head. "Stop worrying about who
they are," Jesus says. "Think about who
you are."
So what's the better question here?One of the classic texts on the meaning of suffering is the Book of Job. While I certainly can't take it apart like a seminary student, one part always hits me hard. Toward the end of the story, Job gets his wish: an audience with God. He wants to know why - not just why he's suffered, but why anyone suffers. Why is there no justice? Why do the lazy prosper and the diligent starve? Why do fools attain positions of authority while wise men are ignored? Why does a man like Job, who has endeavored all his life to honor God, have everything taken from him?
God answers Job's questions with more questions [Job 38]. More to the point,
God neglects (refuses?) to answer Job's "why" question and instead answers the unasked "who" question: "Who am I? And who are you?"Job's response?
Then Job replied to the LORD :
"I know that you can do all things;
no plan of yours can be thwarted.
You asked, 'Who is this that obscures my counsel without knowledge?'
Surely I spoke of things I did not understand,
things too wonderful for me to know.
"You said, 'Listen now, and I will speak;
I will question you,
and you shall answer me.'
My ears had heard of you
but now my eyes have seen you.
Therefore I despise myself
and repent in dust and ashes."
[Job 42:1-6, NIV]
Job is convinced: knowing who God is makes the question of "why" irrelevant.
Is my questioner satisfied? Probably not (and I don't say that sarcastically). After all, I'm saying, in essence, that his/her question is not worth asking, then turn around and answer (feebly) the one question he/she DIDN'T want answered. That's not very helpful, is it?
Am I even satisfied with that answer? Not always, quite frankly. The "
who makes
why irrelevant" answer is a lot easier for me to swallow when everything's quiet than when I'm in the middle of the storm.
But Job shows me there are different, better, higher questions to be asked.
And within the storm, focusing on the who helps me be at peace with the unanswerable why. Who is God going to be to me and to others within this? And who will I be or become?It's remembering those questions that's the tricky part.