Chapter 10 Part Two:
Reconciling the God of monotheism to the reality of suffering.

Job's friends argue that the evil that has befallen Job must be the Divine punishment for Job's own sins. Indeed, at the time Job was written it was commonly believed that suffering and disasters must be God's punishment for sin. For example, the historians of the books of Kings sought to demonstrate that the misfortune of conquest and exile that overtook Israel were actually the result of the sins of the people in general and the king in particular. Two problems are immediately apparent with using this approach to explain all suffering. On the one hand, we often find that the evil seem to prosper and go unpunished while the innocent and good face a multitude of injustices. Even the historians who wrote Kings had to gloss over the fact that some of the worst kings had the longest, most prosperous reigns while the best King, Josiah, reigned a short while and suffered a tragic death. On the other hand, how does one explain punishments that seem to outweigh the sin. This is Job's protest: the enormity of his affliction is completely out of proportion to any sin he may have committed.

This is the understanding of suffering that is assumed in the Prologue to the book of Job. The accuser wants to inflict suffering upon Job in order to test the strength of Job's faith. That God allows such terrible events to befall Job raises questions about God's motives. Nevertheless, several religious traditions have held to the idea that suffering may be necessary to achieve a greater good of shaping character through the teaching of patience, humility and compassion. This understanding suggests that there is nothing contradictory between the goodness and omnipotence of God and the existence of suffering. In other words, the all-powerful God allows suffering because it brings about the moral growth of human beings. The most common objection to this explanation of suffering is stated well by Livingston. Speaking of the terrible genocides witnessed by the Twentieth Century, he asks, "Can God's purpose include such unspeakable, large-scale suffering? Or even the innocent suffering of a single infant?" Put another way, does the notion that suffering can somehow bring about moral growth justify the annihilation of six million Jews in the Holocaust, the death of up to 20 million Africans in the middle passage, or the rape and murder of one seven year old girl? Again, the means seems to be out of proportion to the desired goal.

As noted above the climax of the Book of Job is when God appears to Job. It is interesting, however, that God does not answer Job's questions. Instead, God contrasts His own might and wisdom with Job's weakness and ignorance. In response, Job acknowledges that he is incapable of comprehending the Divine will: "I have spoken of great things which I have not understood, things to wonderful for me to know. . . . Therefore I melt away, I repent in dust and ashes." It is important to note that Job does not confess any sin that may justify his suffering. Rather, he recognizes and submits to God's sovereignty. The notion that mortals must ultimately acknowledge the mystery of God's will is prevalent in Islam, Christianity and Judaism. It is significant that the very word, "Islam" means "to submit." A Muslim is one who "submits" to the will of Allah; not one who fully understands Allah's will. Allah controls all things; thus we must accept that whatever happens is Allah's will. Even when one cannot understand how Allah's will is God, one must submit to it. In Christianity, John Calvin's doctrine of predestination is based on the mystery of the sovereignty of God. God's justice surpasses human understanding and, in the final analysis must simply be accepted. One can only have faith that God's purposes, though mysterious, are good. Pain and suffering are real, but are in mysterious ways used by God for His good purposes.

 It is difficult to critique a theodicy of submission for one simple reason: it assumes that God's notion of justice and goodness are beyond what human beings can comprehend. Consequently, any question that asks "How can a good, loving God allow evil and suffering?" will be met with the response, "Mortals cannot understand divine goodness or love." Nevertheless, a number of theologians fail to find a theodicy of submission fully satisfactory. Instead, they have held to the mystery of God's purpose while at the same time refusing to accept that God's will should include the suffering of innocent men, women and children. This theodicy of protest is exemplified in the writings of Elie Wiesel, a survivor of the death camps of the Nazis. Wiesel rejects all the traditional attempts to reconcile the horrors of the Holocaust (the systematic extermination of the Jews by the Nazis) with God's purposes. In fact, Wiesel implies that true faithfulness and trust may actually take the form of contending with God. The true believer is drawn into an angry, yet faithful quarrel with God. It is Wiesel's contention that the Jew "may oppose God as long as he does so in defense of God's creation." The book of Job itself assumes such theodicy of protest. Job is encouraged to "curse God and die;" that is, to give up his faith in God and cease expecting God to answer him. Job refuses to be consoled by simplistic explanation that he simply cannot accept. Nevertheless, Job does not renounce his faith in God. In fact, Job declares, "Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him." Thus, Job himself demonstrates the idea that faithfulness may actually require a refusal to accept quietly any explanation that justifies apparent senseless suffering as God's will.