Why does God allow suffering and death?
When I play golf with Philip, at the first tee, we always go through a song and dance routine, a kind of ritual. We always invite the other player to tee off first. “You go first.” This is not a show of courtesy or politeness to a friend or out of respect to one who is older than you. The term “you go first,” has a double meaning. In Chinese, it can also mean you die first. You may find it somewhat comical that a ninety-year old Philip and a guy whose health is not the greatest (me) would keep on reminding each other about the brevity of life. I think that deep down, we are both thankful that we can still play the game.
In Chinese culture, the subject of death is a taboo. A Chinese family would never talk about buying life insurance or worse still, about the need to prepare a living will. The reason is this: to even talk about death is considered unlucky, let alone the possibility of giving an old man the impression that you want him out of the way. Whereas in the West, talking about death appears to be fairly normal. Benjamin Franklin once said in 1789 that “in this world nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes.” So, why should we not talk about something that no one can escape? Jesus knew that death was inevitable and spoke and acted redemptively into this universal reality around the death of Lazarus. We will explore this together. But first we must meet two women.
In Luke 10:38-42, we are introduced to two sisters Mary and Martha at Martha’s home in Bethany. I call these two sisters the dynamic duo—M&M for short—but they stand in stark contrast to each other, especially after these two sisters sent word to Jesus saying that their brother Lazarus is dying, “Lord, the one you love is sick” (John 11:3). Strangely, Jesus then delayed his journey for two days saying “This sickness will not end in death. No, it is for God’s glory” (11:4). The text says that Jesus loved M&M and their brother Lazarus. But Thomas, afraid of death and seeing the gathering clouds around Jesus said, “Let us also go, that we may die with him” (11:16). Upon his eventual arrival, Martha said to Jesus, “if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” The undertone of her voice is abundantly clear. Why did you not come in time? Why do you allow people you love to get sick and die? In moments of grief, we often ask why? Why does God allow it? Why do bad things happen to good people? It is a question I have asked.
For many years, I led a manner of life that I thought was proper conduct. I believed in God. I attended church faithfully each Sunday, joined Bible studies and fellowships, participated in volunteer work, sang in choirs, and served in other capacities. But for want of a better word, I was cruising along. The word death was not part of my vocabulary. As I will soon show I was more of a Martha than a Mary. Eleven years ago, I was diagnosed with not one but two types of cancer—the dreaded “C” word. Today, by the grace of God, I am still alive and well. But the onset of illness, pain, suffering and death often act as wake-up call for our complacency. Then and only then will we begin to see our own fragility, limitation, and finiteness. We are not in control. And when we lose control of our lives, we begin to realize our helplessness. It is then that we begin to break out of our delusions and can truly turn to God. C. S. Lewis put it this way, “Pain insists upon being attended to. God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our consciences, but shouts in our pains. It is his megaphone to rouse a deaf world.” Simply I turned to God. But, above all, my illness positioned me to experience the love of God. So, I have five partial answers to the problem of pain wrung out of John chapter eleven and my own experience.
1. To teach us that this world is not our home.
God did not create us for the brokenness of this world. We were originally made for a wonderful sanctuary garden where sickness, injustice, war, famine and death were non-existent. We are now living in a form of exile—physically and spiritually. We have lost our home. We are exiles in a world that does not support the deepest spiritual needs in our hearts. And we long to return to a home where there is no pain and no suffering, where love is true, where beauty lasts, where justice and righteousness reign, and where we can dwell in the presence of God. Deep in our hearts, we long to return to such a home. But our present world is fallen.
2. To remind us that this is a fallen world.
Let us return to the situation with Martha. “When Jesus saw her [Martha] weeping, and the Jews who had come along with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in spirit and troubled” (11:33). Once more Jesus, “deeply moved, came to the tomb” (11:38). A commentator on the original Greek, said that the word “deeply moved” can be more accurately translated as “angry,” “furious,” or “mad.” With what or with whom was Jesus angry? It was not Lazarus’ family, not God the Father or himself. Why this gut-level distress? I believe his anger was directed at the devil and the specter of death. He was mad that a life was snuffed out. Yes, the human race got what it deserves when they wanted to be their own Lord, aspiring to autonomy from God (Gen 3:4-5). But Jesus came to fight for us, to do battle with Satan, sin and death. And to win that battle cost him his own life. But what does it mean that Jesus wept at the tomb of Lazarus?
3. To draw us into the suffering nature of a suffering God
“Jesus wept” (11:35). This may be the shortest verse in the entire Bible but does it pack a punch! The Greeks believed in a passionless God, the unmoved Mover. But that is not the God of the Bible. Christianity is unique in announcing that God came down to earth and became involved in our suffering. While we ask in the midst of our suffering—where is God—he is right there. In all our afflictions he was afflicted too. He understands our pain and loneliness because on the cross he cried out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me” (Psa 22:1; Matt 27:46). The cross of Jesus shows us the heart of God, that God suffers for us and with us. But what does this do to our faith?
4. To expand our faith.
In the passage, both Mary and Martha asked the same question when they saw Jesus. “Lord, if you have been here, my brother would not have died.” A fascinating point is not the identical question asked but the diametrically different answers given by Jesus. To Martha, who is bitter, incredulous, blaming Jesus for being late, and questioning Jesus in every turn, Jesus replied, “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die…. Do you believe this?” (11:25-6) Jesus’ response was strong and direct. He addresses Martha’s true weakness: her lack of faith. So Jesus confronts Martha with the truth, that he is God, the ultimate giver of life, and that there is hope.
To Mary, Jesus did not say a thing. He wept with her. He enters into her sorrow and her heart. Jesus just grieved with her as if he is saying, although I am God—fully human and fully divine—I too grieve.
At the tomb, Martha again questioned Jesus, “by this time, there is a bad odor, for he has been there four days” (11:39). Jesus reminded her again, saying, “Did I not tell you that if you believe, you will see the glory of God?” (11:40). Martha must have thought that Jesus had the power to heal a sick man but not the power to raise him from the dead, certainly not immediately. So, Jesus wants to open Martha’s (and our) eyes to see the true and lasting resurrection that Jesus personally embodies and makes.
5. To display God’s work.
God always has a purpose in the suffering of a Christian. It is not pointless. In John chapter nine we read the story of the man born blind, a man who had experienced misery and pain all his life. The disciples asked, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents?” Jesus answered that neither is at fault: “Neither this man nor his parents sinned, but this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him.” Jesus is trying to get us away from our simplistic notion that good people are rewarded and bad people experience painful lives. If we belong to him suffering may come into our lives. But God has a great plan for what he is going to do in our life and in those around us through that trouble. Through suffering, Jesus will make us more tender, humble, and submissive. We will become more sympathetic to others who are suffering. But most important, our suffering will turn our eyes towards Jesus. It is all too easy to rest on the gifts of life without ever turning our eyes to the giver of life.
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Jesus came into this world to deliver mankind from the chain of sin and the curse of death. To do this he had to go to the cross, taking on himself what we deserve. “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life” (John 3:16). If the death of Lazarus is the greatest of Jesus’ miracles, then verse twenty-five is the pinnacle of his teaching. Jesus said to Martha, “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this?” There will be both physical and spiritual resurrection. In time, God will bring about a new Heaven and a new Earth. In and for that new world God will resurrect us physically, redeeming our body and soul, giving us new flesh, to become an embodied soul. Spiritual resurrection starts now. It is not merely a doctrine, not merely a future event. Resurrection happens here and now. Resurrection has a name, a face. It is our Lord Jesus Christ. Jesus tells Martha that eternal life is standing in front of you. Eternal life is for those who believe now. Then the Holy Spirit comes upon our lives—renewing, changing and transforming us. So Jesus says to us, as well as to Martha, “Do you believe this?”