Problem of Pain Musings - Part 1

The problem of pain, of evil, is a difficult one. It's been grappled with for some time now, and we reach no easy solution. Hypothetically, you can argue that God and evil aren't incompatible existences, and that evil can exist with God in the same universe, but how do you explain that to a refugee from a war zone? A mother who loses a child, a trauma victim, a torture victim, or to someone whose child suffers from cancer or agonizing affliction? 

It's hardest with the children. What have they done, the toddlers, the pre-births, the adolescents stricken with pain from the moment of consciousness until whatever ensues - how is this rectified with a perfectly good, all-powerful God?

I have no answers.

Why do we have a problem with evil and pain, anyway? Biblically, we know sin entered the world through Adam, and with sin, death. Romans 5:12 tells us: Therefore, just as through one man sin entered into the world, and death through sin, and so death spread to all men, because all sinned. This doesn’t console unbelievers and, frankly, doesn’t console suffering believers in the slightest, either. Why? Shouldn’t we know that sin, death, pain, and the horrible entered the world through our rebellion against God? Why do we suffer such angst over intolerable pains, knowing the fault originates in our ancestral transgression? Do we feel blameless for such a distant past?

Partly, it’s the disparity, the randomness, the unFAIRness of who suffers – and who doesn’t - that conceives a self-righteous entitlement and anger. Is it a valid displeasure? Who knows. We live all our lives admitting and hearing that life is unfair, and expect it should be anyway. It’s never our fault that it isn’t fair, like a twisted, alternate, Dunning-Kruger syndrome. But it still should be, right? Equality, in opportunity and person, seems like a righteous aim for a religion of love and impartiality.

Since life is unfair, God must be either malicious and cruel or missing-in-action in deistic fashion – this is our conclusion. Are we right, and are those the only two options? Really, it’s such a difficult and pervasive problem, and even if you theoretically arrive at an understanding, the instant your child suffers from endless pain without surcease, the invectives loosen from the lips.

I’ve been reading Job, and I’m no expert in Job theology (JG – that’s you), but it’s clear right from the beginning that Job is considered a blameless individual as per the story. He’s not a child, and a bit of the powerful symbolism inherent in child-metaphor is removed, but the story is important. God allows, even suggests, the absolute destruction of a faithful follower.

Right from the start, God himself (in the story) says that Job is blameless, and allows (even encourages) Satan to destroy Job as proof of Job’s faith. With Abraham, God tested his faith by asking him to sacrifice his only son; with Job, his entire prosperity: children, home, health, wealth. David as punishment for a sin was chased around the world by armies and lost a son as well; Eli’s entire family was doomed by the sins of a father.

God does not take sin lightly, but we cannot fully comprehend the punishment of sin – how is a baby’s death punishment of sin? Who sinned? Why was this baby punished with death or this child with torture, and not that one, whose parents swindle and steal and murder with a capitalistic vengeance? We have tunnel vision, but why-why-why must the innocent suffer? Are they truly suffering the sins of their parents? Why does it always seem so arbitrary?

I think following this path easily leads to bitterness. When a baby or child suffers, the parent suffers immensely. So perhaps that could be some twisted form of justice over the iniquity of a parent, but even though we see that happening in the Old Testament and we can somehow make ourselves understand it, when the faces of our children and the people we love endure these pains, it’s an injustice, an atrocity. There is a difference, yes, but still none of these answers why, or whether we are right, or what sort of God we believe in that allows these sorts of things.

There are a lot of troubling aspects about the story of Job, but one that has been running through my head is the punishment of others to prove the faith of Job. All Job’s children die, all his servants – and even when Job’s wealth is restored, and he regains children, the originals are not returned. How do you recompense a life?

Personally, this is something I’ve been contemplating a bit over the course of my life. I lost a little brother at birth, as my mother suffered from pneumonia and was forced into labor too soon.  My brother, Jonathan, was not developed enough, and the medical technology at that time was insufficient to support his underdeveloped lungs and heart. He would have survived if the same occurred today.

In momentary evaluation, this is a tragedy, and I think it was, and perhaps still is, though one far removed and numbed for my family over time. The hidden blessing, one only seen four years later, was my little brother Sam. My parents only wanted three children, and if Jonathan had been born, my parents would have been content with those three, but his death meant another try, and the hardship of years without child. It took four years, and when they had a child finally, they named him Samuel because they asked long of God, and a child was delivered.

It would be heartless of me to say that every evil is justified by subsequent goods, and not honest. But in this case, I cannot diminish Samuel’s person by wishing Jonathan had survived, nor can I forget that Jonathan did die, and how difficult that was. When referring to life, saying: the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away feels cruel, terrible, and unjust. But Samuel has been a great blessing to our family and to countless people, and though Jonathan would undoubtedly have been as well, we have Samuel, and not he.

This is a tangent, of course, and one specific to a case of mine. It does not answer the problem of pain, but only shows one of my experiences with seeing the other side. There is often grace and mercy to follow when the hurt is great, but not always for the one who suffers. This is another facet to the problem of pain which hurts like stones in the gut.

To Be Continued