See Suffering as Suffering

Three Kinds of Suffering

　　Whenever a major disaster occurs, faith communities often engage in renewed discussions of theodicy. Under the weight of disaster, such discussions tend to become emotionally charged, making it difficult to maintain a calm and rational spirit. In today’s world, information spreads with unprecedented speed. Even the slightest misstep in a believer’s words can provoke strong emotions among disaster victims and the public. Therefore, as we reflect on and discuss these issues, we must first pray, asking God to grant us compassionate hearts, wise minds, and cautious tongues.

　　In God’s creation order, three major categories of suffering can be identified: (1) moral evils: sins committed by humans through the misuse of their free will, such as murder, theft, and betrayal; (2) natural disasters: calamities that cannot be avoided even with the best preventive measures, such as earthquakes, fires, and traffic accidents; (3) the sorrows of life: whether stemming from human or natural causes, misfortune inevitably befalls some people, such as bereavement, physical disabilities, and depression. These three categories of suffering are, of course, not strictly separate but overlap and intertwine.

Challenges to Christian Faith

　　Suffering and these evils are a reality that often shakes the very foundations of our faith. Both believers and non-believers may challenge the Christian faith from these three perspectives: (1) the logical problem: statement 1, “God is omnipotent and perfectly good,” and statement 2, “Evil exists,” are logically incompatible; (2) the evidential problem: the existence of evil serves as evidence against God’s existence—either God does not exist, or God is not omnipotent or perfectly good; (3) the existential problem: setting aside purely rational arguments, we are in fact beset by various forms of suffering, leading us to exclaim, “This is meaningless!” or “This shouldn’t be happening! At least, it shouldn’t be happening to me!”

　　In response to the challenges from the logic and evidential problems, G. W. Leibniz argues that the actual world, despite the existence of suffering, is still “the best of all possible worlds.” As an omniscient, omnipotent, and perfectly good being, God created this world with the best intentions. The existence of evil and suffering in this world serves to realize a greater good or a long-term purpose. G. W. F. Hegel holds a similar view, arguing that suffering is a necessary condition for the realization of a higher good. Both Leibniz and Hegel adopted a detached, purely rational approach that distanced themselves from the realities of disaster. While such responses may be valid on rational grounds, for those suffering in real life, “rationalizing” may abstract—or even “nullify”—their concrete experience of suffering. Those still plagued by disaster may well ask: Is my current hardship merely the “necessary cost” or “necessary means” for God to achieve the greatest good? Am I simply a disposable pawn in God’s grand chess game that He will win in the end?

Seeing Suffering as Suffering

　　As an old Chinese saying goes, “the way of heaven is distant, but the way of humans is near.” If responses to the logic and evidential problems seem too abstract (not that they are unimportant, but that they may not fully address the circumstances of sufferers), we might approach the issue from a third perspective: viewing the concrete suffering as lived reality. From the perspective of those who suffer, we must first avoid abstracting the problem of suffering as the previous two approaches tend to do—starting with a general concept of suffering and arguing theoretically for its inevitability. Instead, we must face and take real suffering seriously, addressing suffering on its own terms. Second, we must not force a seemingly “spiritually correct” explanation onto every real suffering: “God wants you to let go of everything and look to Him alone,” or “In your pain, you will experience God’s grace and care more deeply.” Some suffering may simply be gratuitous. We do not know why it occurs, nor why it afflicts a particular person. If we insist on assuming the role of an all-knowing interpreter who must find a rational explanation for every instance of suffering, we risk repeating the error made by Job’s three friends. In fact, we can mourn with those who mourn. We can share with the grieving people the story of Job, or the life stories of the writer Xing Linzi (Liu Xia) and the evangelist and motivational speaker Nick Vujicic. This may help them and bring them comfort. Of course, it may not work because there is always a deep divide between accounts of others’ suffering and the suffering one endures firsthand.

Endurance and Hope

　　When Martin Luther lost his beloved thirteen-year-old daughter in his later years, he said, “It’s strange to know that she is surely at peace and that she is well off there, very well off, and yet to grieve so much!” He also quoted Matthew 26:41, lamenting, “The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.” Because our flesh is weak, we may question God in the midst of suffering, grow angry with Him, and find ourselves unable to utter words of thanksgiving and praise in prayer. This is only human—we are all inherently weak in this way. But on the other hand, we must also recognize this: As long as the smoldering wicks have not yet been quenched and the bruised reeds have not been broken, life must go on, and faith must be restored. Even if some wicks have indeed been extinguished, and some reeds have truly been broken, that is not the end—at the end of the road, the Lord who has risen from the dead awaits us there, ready to welcome us into our eternal heavenly home.