Why does God let bad things happen?

"I recently received a comment from someone, likely in their 20s, expressing deep anguish. They asked, 'Why would God allow my six-year-old sister to die of horrible cancer?' The commenter continued, 'Don't tell me God's just going to make the best of it.' This person was honest, devastated, and angry. Despite the turmoil, it was evident that they still yearned to believe, causing inner conflict. Responding to such a question is no easy feat and is perhaps one of the most challenging inquiries our faith will ever confront.

It is conceivable that at some point, all of us will question the existence of God, especially in the face of prevalent issues like war, disease, poverty, and pervasive suffering. We may wonder, 'Where are you, God? How could you allow these things to happen?' This internal struggle becomes even more personal when we face individual hardships, making us question why such trials befall us.

We are repeatedly told about a God of love, one who cares for us as His children, an all-good and all-powerful deity capable of anything. Yet, when we witness the world's pain and agony, we question why God doesn't intervene. If we, as mere mortals, wouldn't allow harm to our children if we had the power to prevent it, why does God seem indifferent to our plight? We are left grappling with the unsettling notion that if there is a God, there are troubling possibilities – a cruel deity, a powerless one, or a callous and indifferent one.

For some, these questions remain buried beneath the surface as they continue religious rituals, ignoring the disquiet within. Others respond with anger, rebellion, and even hatred, turning away from faith. In either case, faith is lost. The truth is, there is no satisfactory answer to the 'problem of evil' because it is, fundamentally, an unanswerable question. While clever arguments exist, they fall short in comforting a family mourning a lost child or a woman brutalized or millions starving every day.

Even C.S. Lewis, a mastermind in crafting arguments on the problem of evil, admitted, when facing the loss of his beloved, that it all seemed like some kind of vile practical joke. In moments of dire need, when we approach God seeking solace, we might find the door slammed shut, the sound of bolting and double bolts from the inside, and then silence. This resonates with many of us.

However, the most satisfying response I've ever encountered on this matter comes directly from God Himself, through the account of Job in the Bible. Job, faultless, upright, and innocent, lost everything – family, wealth, and health. In his suffering, he cried out to God, questioning why this tragedy befell him. God's response was not an explanation but a series of unanswerable questions. Essentially, God was saying, 'I've got this,' leaving Job to trust in the One who knows.

The problem of evil is not a puzzle to be solved but a reality to be overcome. When Jesus descended into our world, amid war, disease, suffering, and evil, he didn't eradicate them with a snap of his fingers. He endured them, patiently suffering, ultimately conquering them. He invites us to join him in overcoming evil, offering not answers but himself.

Evil is not a question but a challenge to be met. When we encounter it, we can choose to curse the darkness or light a candle, responding with love. Dostoyevsky's 'The Brothers Karamazov' features a scene where evil incarnate, the Grand Inquisitor, blames Christ for the world's suffering. Christ's response is not words, anger, or fear but a gentle kiss, offering himself.

The better question isn't why God allows bad things to happen – an answer we may never comprehend. Instead, it's about our response. How do we react to the evil we see around us, the suffering of others, or the turmoil within ourselves? Do we fight fire with fire, or do we respond with love? Overcoming evil is one of the hardest things we'll ever do, and we don't have to do it alone. We have a powerful friend who has faced it all and says, 'Come on now, let's do this together.'"