Why does God permit suffering? 10/13/40

Scripture: (Job?) Lamentations 3: 12-33

One of the oldest and most perplexing problems is the problem of suffering. When an innocent child is injured through another’s carelessness, when thousands are starved in famine, when the good are swallowed up along with the evil in the destruction by some great earthquake, someone will cry out, "Where is the justice of that?" When a conscientious and valuable life is suddenly afflicted with the agony of an incurable cancer, when a needy family is plunged into desperate want through the accidental death of the head of the family, one wonders, "why can that happen?"

If God is All Mighty, and if He is kind, like a loving Father, why does he allow it? How can he, being good, permit it? Vain attempts to find a ready, quick and satisfactory answer to this problem have turned many an impatient man to rebellion.

But to the most profoundly faithful souls of history, it has seemed evident that, whatever the reason for suffering, God is not indifferent to the cares of his suffering creatures.

A fine Bible story depicts Job, once one of the wealthiest and most blessed men of the East, as well as a most righteous man, as having lost all of his possessions - his cattle, his camels, his sheep, his servants, and his family of precious sons and daughters as well. He sits silent, in sackcloth and ashes, in profound and agonized sorrow while his friends try to analyze what may have gone wrong with his life. His wife remarks that he might as well curse God and die. But through all his trouble, with the misery of a violent eruption of boils added to his losses, Job sticks steadfastly to God. "Though he slay me, yet will I trust him."

A Hebrew prophet who had lived through terrifying and heart-breaking invasion of his land, with destruction of life, violence and looting on every hand, writing his lamentations with agony in his soul, still affirms his faith in the Lord’s tender compassion. "The Lord will not cast off forever: But though he cause grief, yet will he have compassion according to the multitude of his mercies. For he doth not afflict willingly nor grieve the children of men."

The most admirable answers to the problem of suffering have included no doubts as to God’s goodness and compassion.

Somehow, God seems to give us a great deal of room for self direction. Why this is so, I do not know, but I believe it is so.

Near the end of the last world war a man whom I know found that his son, a youth not old enough to enlist in the armed forces without his parents’ consent, wished to join the aviation service and go to war. The father, one of the world’s strong yet truly gentle souls, loved the boy dearly and felt that the youngster was still perhaps a bit immature. But even so, he knew how earnestly that stripling lad wanted to join up. The blow came to him while he was away on business. A wireless message came from the boy saying that there were openings immediately in army aviation; that he wanted to join up; and begging the father to give his consent. Despite all sober judgment as to the danger and the boy’s immaturity, as well as his own legal right to refuse consent until the boy should come of age, the father consented. He was not willing to stand in the way of that boy’s developing self-reliance. He sent his message of permission, then went to bed too ill in body and mind to stir from his room for two full days. He said, "I felt as though I had signed my son’s death warrant and it made me miserably sick. But I did not feel I could do otherwise."

I think God loves his children in some such way. And whether in success or trial, in health or in sickness, in triumph or in suffering, God still cares, his compassion endures, yea, he must often suffer for us.

Of course there is one aspect of some suffering that must not be glossed over. We live in an orderly world and universe. There seems to be a definite cause and effect in natural law. If, even in innocence, a baby puts his hand into the glowing flame of a fire he gets burned. If you step off a cliff or off the church steeple even in religious ecstasy, you will fall hard. Even Jesus would not trifle with temptation to defy any such law of consequence.

There seems also to be a similar causal relationship in a moral law - an ethical principle - the law of moral right and wrong. "They that take the sword shall perish by the sword," for instance. [Matthew 26: 52]. Hatred gets hatred in return. Lying, thievery, adultery, profanity, blasphemy, covetousness, deliberate heedlessness are followed sooner or later, in some form or other, on some one or another, by troubles, by suffering, by evils of like kind. "For whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap." [Galatians 6: 7]. If it be of evil, evil. If it be of good, good. "Cast thy bread upon the waters: for thou shalt find it after many days." [Ecclesiastes 11: 1].

You recall the story of man as he is first pictured to us in the book of Genesis. It is an unerringly accurate description of the moral law that man from the very first has gotten into trouble and sorrow and suffering when he willfully, carelessly, or heedlessly disobeys the commandments of God.

Of course, there are rules and there are rules. But the Ten Commandments summed up in the Old Testament are so time- tested throughout generations of men who have heeded them with benefit, or broken themselves in the breaking of them, that thoughtful souls are convinced that they summarize a moral law given of God. (and that, my friends, is no matter to be laughed off!)

But what about people who suffer innocently? Or must we believe that all suffering is punishment for one’s wrong-doing? I believe that there is, definitely, such a thing as innocent suffering. Hundreds of bombing victims in war torn countries are hit through no moral fault of their own. Many of them are helpless children. The rain falls, when it comes, on the just and the unjust in the same neighborhood. The sun shines in like manner.

A sick, crippled man in Jesus’ presence occasioned the remark from one of the company that he must have sinned, or else his parents had. Jesus simply replied that it wasn’t so! ÒNeither hath this man sinned nor his parents.Ó [John 9: 3]. But the works of God were made manifest in him when he was healed of his affliction.

Now, how can the Christian regard his suffering? There are a number of attitudes possible besides the impossibly hopeless one of going to pieces over it or losing one’s sanity in it. There is the stoical attitude which says, "bear it." Just endure it, perhaps as a good soldier of Jesus Christ.

There is a pseudoscientific answer which says, "deny it." Just say it doesn’t exist. That looks to me too much like running away into delusions. There is another attitude which says, "ignore it." Just plow ahead as though it were not there. All of these are positive and more or less admirable answers to suffering.

There is one more which says, "overcome it." Which is precisely what Our Lord did. He went through suffering and reminded his disciples that they too would face it. "These things I have spoken unto you that ye might have my peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation; but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world." [John 16; 33].

Someone has said that "the suffering of the saints places the character of Good above suspicion. He does not need to bribe men with gifts" to secure their love and loyalty.

Suffering may be the badge of discipleship. It is often the refining fire which brings out finer and stronger qualities of character than would otherwise have appeared. When it comes, be not overcome by it, but overcome it in the spirit of Christ. And through it all, hold fast to God.

-----------

dates and places delivered:

Pilgrim Church, January 14, 1940 PM

Wisconsin Rapids, October 13, 1940

W.F.H.R., Wisconsin Rapids, December 28, 1940

Nekoosa, April 11, 1941

Wisconsin Rapids, Good Friday Service, April 7, 1944

{below is a handwritten penciled addendum which seems to have been an alternate ending for the last, Good Friday, service}

The scene in the common hall, which some believe to have been a military barracks, is one of cruel lack of understanding. Men hardened to the duty of military command, have the Master as a helpless prisoner in their hands. It was routine that a prisoner be scourged before crucifixion. Pilate hoped that the scourging would satisfy the mob, but it didn’t

While in custody of the soldiers, after the cruel flogging (that sometimes killed weaker prisoners) Jesus was further subjected to taunts, to the crown of thorns.

He bore it all, as it came - physical suffering, cruel degradation - satisfied to triumph by the spirit alone.