The Reason We Suffer

The Reason We Suffer

We are blessed. We are living in the most peaceful era of history. We get to partake of the most affluent society the world has ever known. As my young son regularly exclaims, "We're being in the future!" Whether it be obesity, addictions, sloth, or lust, our present "suffering" is often not from lack — but from excess. We have more than we need.

Despite the prosperity surrounding us, I know of very few people who would describe their own lives as overwhelmingly blessed. Instead, we define ourselves by our hardships. Our identity is rooted in what we've overcome. It's not necessarily a bad thing — it's just a human thing. We are defined by what we overcome. It's alway been that way.

Abraham became the first "Hebrew" (literally, “one who crosses over”) when he crossed over a river and defied his familial history. The Israelites were the people who God freed from slavery in Egypt. The Jewish people have endured several millennia of genocide, persecution, and expulsion at the hands of the Egyptians, Babylonians, Greeks, Romans, Ottomans, Spanish, Italians, Britains, Nazis, Russians, and countless others. Christ overcame the grave. And, in turn, we too are defined by what we overcome.

Throughout history, the majority of humanity has believed that some "higher power" influences or controls our experiences here on earth. In pantheistic religions, human experiences are thought to be manipulated by the whims, wills, battles, gifts, and vices of various gods, ancestors, and other spiritual forces. The Egyptians credited Hathor with their maternal blessings. To the Greeks, prosperity and destruction were believed to be the result of the cosmic sibling rivalry between Zeus and Hades. The Hindus have Shiva, Vishnu, and countless others. 

Having a pantheon to credit and blame can help people reconcile their mixed experiences with their sense of cosmic justice. Whether life goes well or poorly, a pantheon gives us villains and advocates — two things that are essential to human identity. But many of us are not pantheistic...

For those of us that worship in Semitic religions, we believe in the supremacy and sovereignty of one God over all situations in life — both good and bad. We believe in the universal goodness of God. As such, we face a certain degree of theological discomfort when faced with hardships. After all, if God has the ability to lessen our suffering, why would He chose not to? And it gets really uncomfortable when we don't have God or gods to blame for our suffering. We want someone to blame but don't want to blame ourselves, so we try not to think about it.

But deep down, everyone questions the reason for suffering. And if you’re wanting to find the reason for your immediate suffering, read this. But that still doesn’t resolve the question of why a good God would allow systemic suffering.

Life hurts. We suffer. All of this causes logical minds to question how a loving God could either create or permit such a harsh world. This question is rational and healthy. Fortunately, there is an answer.

First, we must understand God’s intent with humanity. Contrary to some opinions, God didn’t create humanity simply so that he could have company. God already had the angels and the animals before He created people. He already had companionship and adoration and subservience. Amid all of those other beings, God then decided to make uniquely fragile and intellectual creatures; humans. Why? Because God wanted a relationship with beings that bore some of His attributes, including creativity, intellect, emotion, logic, and free will. God wanted a deeper relationship than one that could be afforded by low-level animals and subservient angels.

So, He made us.

To keep us from being mere robots, God gave us free will. Free will is central to developing truly significant relationships. It’s the stuff that comprises consent. Of course, it comes at the risk of the other party not choosing you. It also bears the possibility of being used negatively. We can choose to make love and we can also choose to make war.

In addition to free will, God also gave us mortality, which further separated us from the angels. It makes us vulnerable, fragile, and prone to suffering. But it also gives us the profound ability to empathize and care and heal. If we were immortal, we wouldn’t understand what it means to truly be without someone. The scarcity of life causes us to value life. And it makes us more like God. As an omniscient being and the Father of a martyred son, God, though immortal, fully understands the depth, value, and scarcity of life. As we are not omniscient, the only way for us to understand the depth of the absence of life is for us to experience the absence of life.

Our mortality naturally bears the risk of suffering. Our lives are vulnerable. Even our smallest cells are susceptible to infection, mutation, and death. The resulting suffering is an inherent part of the gift of mortality. As much as violence, famine, childhood cancers, and such are heartbreaking tragedies, they are an essential risk. Without physical vulnerability, we would be immortal and would not value others as deeply as we do. We would never love as deeply nor feel as strongly as we do toward one another.

Too often, we confuse God’s love with our own desire for kindness. (And by “kindness,” I mean the sort of treatment that is always pleasurable.) We want God to be universally kind, but God is not universally kind. Nevertheless, God is universally good. God’s love for us is found in His goodness toward us – even when it is not kind. Because God is good, He wants us to be good. His love for us compels him to seek our betterment – even when it comes with the cost of hardship and suffering.

As a father, I must occasionally permit hardships to occur in the lives of my children. My motivation for doing so lies in love and not sadism or indifference. I know that discomfort is often essential to the betterment of their development. Children do not benefit from environments removed from all potential hardships and risks. Such environments, if they were possible, would result in children without immunities, muscular development, educations, critical thinking skills, personal discipline, compassion, and other beneficial qualities.

Likewise, God’s desire for our good necessitates His interest in our individual and collective development. His goodness compels Him to permit hardships in life. For instance, if there were no consequences (socially or physically) to blind hedonism, we would all be quite shallow, selfish, and immature. Even situations as terrible as the Holocaust actually serve to improve humanity as a whole. Through the Holocaust, modern society finally realized the atrocity and injustice of national racism. Since that time, billions of people (though not all) have lived largely free from the routine, systemic racism and race-based genocide that pervaded nations for millennia. A small example of this is the fact that the Holocaust directly fueled the righteous fires of the civil rights movement. The terrors of WWII actually gave birth to the most peaceful era the world has ever known (the last two generations). Through hardship, humanity was made better.

A few years ago, while working in the prison in Nashville, I met a young family. The parents and their seven-year-old son, Josiah, were participating in a film project we were conducting. While talking with the mother, she confided that Josiah was diagnosed with stage-four kidney cancer when he was only two years old. For an entire year, they went through painful treatments and surgeries and faced the very real possibility that they might soon be saying goodbye forever. It was hell. However, through that time, they were made better. Yes, Josiah got physically better. But, more importantly, all of them became better people. Even in the few hours I spent with them, it was evident that the three of them shared a love that went far deeper than mere familial affection. It was beautiful and humbling.

It’s shortsighted and baseless to believe that hardships make humanity worse. The entire trajectory of humanity has been one from darkness toward ever brightening light. Humanity is perpetually adding to its list of hardships endured. Despite this (or, perhaps, because of it), humanity is becoming stronger, more intelligent, more compassionate, more connected, more peaceful, more educated, more sophisticated, and more understanding. If suffering actually made us worse, then surely the course of history would have seen civilization regress from higher-level beings back to cavemen. Fortunately, the opposite is true.

Certainly, God could remove all suffering from the world. He could eliminate both the intrinsic vulnerability of mortality and the inherent risk of free will. But doing so would reduce humanity. Because God’s love for us compels Him to seek our good (and not merely our pleasure), He cannot simply remove suffering from the human experience. Our vulnerability is what elevates humanity. It’s how we develop. It’s what makes us good.

And for that, I’m grateful for the things I wish had never happened.

— John

(Note: This essay borrows ideas from many people who are much smarter than me. The general sentiment here is mirrored in C.S. Lewis’ The Problem of Pain. While Lewis’ version is smarter, I hope mine is quicker to consume.)