Drew has a powerful story:

First, I want to encourage you to stop reading for a moment and pray for Gary.

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There is much to ponder about the “how” and “why” of his situation, but note his last statement, “there’s not always a reason.” I’ve never met him, but it’s clear that if he asked God why, he received no answer. But is all suffering for nothing? Is there ever purpose in our pain? Gary’s story brings up a lot of questions I’ve been pondering recently.

I’ve started reading Chris J.H. Wright’s book The God I Don’t Understand. Instead of hyping up itself to have “answers to all your questions,” this book ponders questions that the Bible leaves unanswered.

The first part deals with the classic issue “Why is there evil?” and especially in Christianity, “If God is good, why does he allow so much moral evil and so many natural disasters?” He asserts that “the Bible compels us to accept the mystery of evil… [while] we are emphatically told to reject and resist evil” (29). While the Bible narrates how evil entered human life, it does not say precisely how it started or why it was allowed to enter this planet. While some hypothesize or describe limited practical benefits, no one really knows the purpose of evil’s presence.

Wright notes that evil doesn’t “make sense” nor was it intended to. It is an intruder in a good world, an invader that doesn’t belong, and an oppressive colonist that needs to be expelled. The storyline of the Bible is one in which we see God opposing and eventually defeat evil in his own creation while preserving humankind in the process.

My question in response to the issue of “why evil?” is, if we find the answers to the problem of evil, how much will that really help us? What would knowing the answer do for us? It might help us be better able to put blame on someone, but would it help us overcome evil both in ourselves and in our world? Would it help our faith? If so, it would make sense that God would have given us the answer to the puzzle. Yet the apostle Peter notes that Christ’s divine power has granted to us all things that pertain to life and godliness. So we have all we need?

It is natural and good to ask questions, to puzzle over the mysterious, and to seek more information. I’m not saying we shouldn’t ask why or just approach life fatalistically. Good thinking, whether theology, philosophy, anthropology, or some other realm, is essential to what it means to be human. Yet I think sometimes these questions arise not because knowing the answer would help, but because, since all of a sudden the universe makes less sense and feels less secure, the one who runs it seems less trustworthy. If we have certain expectations for God and they aren’t met, where does that leave us? Either our expectations were unrealistic or God didn’t come through. Or, are there times when we cry out “why?” not with a sense of humble longing to understand but as an implied statement that we deserve better than what we are experiencing. We expect the world to work a certain way, we believe that we are entitled to the “good life” however we want to define it.

But if, as Wright highlights from Scripture, God remains eternally good, unceasingly reliable, and supremely powerful, what do we do with our questions and disappointments?

This is where I especially appreciate Wright’s highlighting the role of lament in the Biblical worldview. In lament, we affirm God’s goodness, we affirm the darkness of evil, and we continue to hope that God will set things right one day. Lament cries out with longing desperation, in a spiritual and physical tiredness from sloshing through the routine daily evils and walking through the valleys of the shadow of death. Lament is not the bitter cry of “why” or the angry griping to a supposed “pointy-haired boss” of the universe. It might involve questions of why for a time or iterations through the details of one’s trials, but it’s main cry is “how long?” Wright notes, “Lament is the voice of faith struggling to live with unanswered questions and unexplained suffering” (53).

In Biblical lament, is it permissible to ask God why? Of course, for there examples of this, namely the book of Job, Habbakuk, many of the Psalms, and especially Jesus’ cry from the cross “Why have you forsaken me?” But our cry must be either in faith clinging to God in utter desperation or, in the case of profound doubt, being content to wait for God’s reply and trust Him during the silence.

The Biblical tradition of lament also occurs within community, as the Psalter was the main hymnal for the Jews and many in the church (esp Ps 10; 12; 13; 28; 30; 38; 56; 69; 88). Doing so helps us not to suffer alone, to be encouraged by others who have already been through the valley, and to be reminded of what remains true about God. One of the greatest dangers to spiritual life is forgetfulness, and without regular practices of lament, we might during suffering be jarred away from assuring truths to a jaded, bitter, unrealistic, and hopeless perspective on life.

So what do we tell Gary? First of all, if I met him, I would want to do something concrete to assist him. Second, I would remind him that God is as opposed to evil as he is, and that God will ultimately purge it from this world and put everything aright. Through suffering the worst possible evil and coming back from the dead, Christ has given us this hope that those who follow him will be raised up to a new life beyond our comprehension and gives us strength in the present to persevere.

Our hearts cry out in longing to experience the good. Daily we are frustrated, yet we have a choice. Will we gripe and complain like spoiled bitter children or will we call out to God, trusting that he knows what he is doing and will help bring us through the darkest night?

God is opposed to the evil around us, and the evil that we foster from within ourselves. Will we oppose evil, not just in politics, our neighborhood, or our workplace, but also in our own hearts? While we don’t know completely how evil came into in our hearts, why do we foster and nurse it so?

Let us not gripe in suffering but deeply lament to the loving and good God who is greater than our intellect. And may we not just lament the suffering around us and that we experience, but also that which we cause to others and our self with a deep longing of the heart, “How long O Lord?”