Every Christian, sooner or later, has to face a horrid issue. Terrible things happen to terrific people – even to wonderful Christians. How come? If God is good, why does he allow it? And what’s more, what’s a Christian to do when the one suffering is a family member, or a good friend, or any Christian brother or sister. I hope you’re not expecting any great new answers or novel truths. I don’t have any. I can only ask with Jeremiah, “Is there no balm in Gilead? Is there no physician there? Why then is there no healing for the wound of my people?” Great thinkers have studied this for two thousand years … but it’s been greatly on my mind as I have watched some friends go through awful things, and I wanted to share my thoughts. Maybe someone else has something new …

I should say that I’m only interested in this problem as it affects me – a Christian – and others like me. If you don’t believe in God, then I suppose that you don’t expect Him to preserve you from catastrophes. If you believe there is a God, but not the God of the Christian Bible, you might have to deal this problem, but Christian wrestlings with it are irrelevant, I suppose, to you.

I ought to define the kind of pain I’m talking about, too. I don’t mean the kind of pain that is actually helpful – the burn of the finger from the stove, or the sting from a nettle … or even the sting of punishment for wrong doing. It’s not about salutary pain. Nor yet do I mean the pain that may be underserved but which may still be explicable and survivable – the loss of a job, and unpleasant divorce, a recoverable illness… even childhood sexual abuse. I grant that there is an area between these and what I call ‘true” catastrophe that might be questionable, being disastrous for some, and survivable for others. What I really have in mind, though, are the unquestionably horrific calamities that affect individuals. The inexplicable death of a baby, the painful and prolonged incurable cancer of a beloved partner, the suicide of a friend – these are examples of the “pain” I mean. I’m talking about the sort of pain which seems irrational, unfair, and without recourse.

How does a Christian reconcile pain with Jesus’ saying, “Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours”? Not at all … that question is besides the point. Any well educated Christian knows that there are conditions to the promise. But prayer about pain is usually an “after-the-fact” response – which leads to the “before-the-fact” question. Why does a good God allow bad things to happen to good people? How do the victims get chosen for calamity, and why doesn’t God prevent it?

Randy Alcorn expresses the problem very well: “If God is all good, then he would want to prevent evil and suffering. If he is all knowing, then he would know how to prevent it. If God is all powerful, then he is able to prevent it. And yet… a great deal of evil and suffering exists. Why?” It will be clear that I believe that some evil, and some suffering, needs no explanation. But there is that residual pain that the heart cannot accept. It’s not the result of bad choices. It’s just not “fair”! I am forced to reject the way the question is expressed. God is all good, all knowing and all powerful. It follows that He must have his own good reasons for allowing pain … evil and suffering … to exist. One of the things I have come to accept is that God is my heavenly Father. And like all parents, His answer for many questions is, “because I say so.” So how should a Christian respond?

There are many good “explanations” of why God allows pain. It’s a natural consequence of the exercise of free will. It’s the result of sin. It’s because God has a better plan… Many of them are perfectly reasonable, intellectually. None of them really resolve the issue. If you have ever been one of those “chosen” to suffer you know there is no adequate explanation. You either accept that God is good, and has no obligation to explain – the message of Job – or you suffer the insult of incomprehension on top of the injury of pain. For that reason, I conclude that there is limited value in the usual Christian approach … the offering of explanations and supporting texts. For now, my response is that of Romans 12:15: “Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn.” Sharing the sorrow, and incomprehension or coming alongside in faith are the only proper responses I can find. Empathy is not my strong suit, but I will reach toward it.

This post isn’t really finished … this problem is on my mind a lot. But I wanted to put it out, and see what thoughts it might attract. I know I’ll revisit it.