A:
We may not say it out loud, but we think it: Why does God allow suffering? Theologians have wrestled over this, but do their answers satisfy? “Suffering is a result of sin,” they say. “So, if God were to get rid of suffering, He’d have to eradicate all sin. That would annihilate all sinners. Thus, He permits suffering so that humans can continue.”
Does that satisfy? Most likely, no, not if you are watching your child die of cancer or battling bone-deep weariness from chronic fatigue syndrome. Academic answers to tough questions about suffering can sound dry and technical. When a person is deeply afflicted, he doesn’t ask “why?” as though raising his hand in a theology class; rather, he asks “why?” out of an anguished gut.
It’s how I felt 52 years ago after I broke my neck in a horrible accident that left me a quadriplegic. Two decades later, I started living with chronic pain. Then I was hit by stage III cancer.
Answers don’t always help where it hurts: in the gut and the heart. When we are afflicted and ask “why,” we are like a hurting child who cries to Daddy, “Why?” That child does not want answers. They want Daddy to pick them up, hold them close, and hear him whisper, “There, there, sweetheart, it’s okay. Daddy’s here.” The child wants fatherly assurance that everything will be okay.
The God of the Bible gives that same Fatherly assurance. He is Abba-Father-Daddy who gives Himself, for He is the Answer. He does not give wordy advice; He is the Word, the Word made flesh, the Man of sorrows acquainted with our grief.
I once challenged a friend to explain how a good God could allow terrible things to happen. “Joni,” he said, “think of God’s own Son. How could God allow such terrible things to happen to Him? Think of the heinous crimes God allowed leading up to the cross. Think of the treason, injustice, torture, and murder. Yet God permitted what He hated—the Cross—to accomplish what He loved—salvation for a world of sinners.”
Only God could pull off a paradox like that. Lamentations 3:32-33 asserts that “the Lord brings grief,” but “He does not willingly bring...grief.” If that doesn’t make sense, remember that God tried it out on Himself. He willed the gruesome death of His own Son (taking no delight in it) because He prized something above it (our glorious salvation). The world’s worst murder became the world’s only rescue.
“And Joni,” my friend added, “the same is true for you. God permitted what He hated, your injury. But it’s accomplishing what He loves: the image of Christ in you.” I learned that in our terribly broken world, God permits all sorts of things He doesn’t approve of. God wills what He despises for reasons that are always wise, specific, and good, yet often hidden from our understanding here on earth.
John Piper says that God has the capacity to look at the world through two lenses—a narrow lens and a wide-angle one. When God looks at a painful event through a narrow lens, He sees the tragedy for what it is, and is grieved. He feels the sting in His chest when a child dies of cancer. However, when God looks at that same event through His wide-angle lens, He sees the tragedy in relation to everything leading up to it, as well as the good things flowing out from it. He sees a beautiful mosaic stretching into eternity.
In Heaven, people will delight in this marvelous mosaic, like a tangled embroidery of scarred lives flipped right-side-up to reveal the delicate and beautiful pattern never observed on earth. I don’t mind waiting to see that magnificent embroidery…and so I join you in trusting that what God has permitted will ultimately prove to be gloriously good!
