Where is God Amidst the Pain?

December 15, 2023 | Kahlil Walker ‘24

image description: doctor holding medical gear

I have dedicated much of my journey at Yale around building a career that will benefit others or even save lives in ways that others cannot. Doctors provide necessary care for the sick day-by-day, but many of the tools they use to do so would not exist without the innovations of science. At the same time, I’ve recognized in my own research that we are striving to provide solutions to problems in which the odds are stacked against us. Cancer, a multitude of diseases in which each case can be distinct from another, is notoriously difficult to treat. In many instances, we sacrifice the well-being of patients in the hope that we can kill the malignancy faster than we do the patient. My aunt was lucky to overcome breast cancer when the beast decided to take a hold of her. However, HTLV-1, a viral infection for which there is no formal cure, has ravaged my grandmother. Growing up, I have watched her gradually lose the ability to support her own body weight, take care of herself and—the last time I saw her— eat on her own. Throughout all this there was no one who could offer a solution. No doctor. No new developments in science. No herbal remedy. This same story of hopelessness repeats time and time again in people’s lives. I am certain most, if not all people, have had similar experiences. As a Christian who believes in a loving God—one who is personal and truly desires the best for us—how do I reconcile these afflictions?  How do I look at the Bible, in which Jesus not only desires for the sick to be healed but actually heals them, and not wonder why He seems to be absent for my grandmother? How do I invest myself in a few niches of biomedical research with the hope that disease and pain will be cured, even in the midst of the uncertainty that anything I do will be beneficial to the field?

All these questions I ask are often summarized and referred to as the “Problem of Evil” or, more accurately, “Problems of Evil.” The Epicurean trilemma is a concise formulation of the problem: 

“Is God willing to prevent evil, but not able? Then He is not omnipotent. Is He able, but not willing? Then He is malevolent. Is He both able and willing? Then whence cometh evil? Is He neither able nor willing? Then why call Him God?.” 

I may be tempted to turn my back to God because it feels as though He has abandoned so many. The coherence of the Chrsitian God’s existence and the story of humanity—including our pains, struggles and confusion—can be explained in the following  metaphor. In a river water flows as one unit, sharing a general direction of flow. Stones interspersed throughout the river’s path disrupt the water’s flow, causing an apparent break in unity. If we focus on the stones while ignoring the big picture, it would seem as though there were two separate units of water that cannot be reunited. However, when we are aware of the expanse of the river, this stone does nothing to disrupt its flow. All still flows as one unit and the stone adds to the beauty of the scenery. In this life, questions such as those posed by Epicurus are likened to the stones in that river. This is not to say that these questions are not worth pondering or that the answer is easy to arrive at. Instead, I intend to point to the unity of our sufferings and the existence of the loving God presented in Christianity.  

 I find that there is something stunning about the Christian God. If Jesus is God-incarnate—that is, God having taken on human form—then He understands our pains and has walked through this life as we do today. The God of Christianity, though sovereign, almighty and without obligation to us, chose to suffer alongside us for our sakes. Paul gives a thorough description of the love of Christ in Philippians , “… though He was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but made Himself nothing, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, He humbled Himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross” (Philippians 2:8, ESV). This image of a Messiah capable of empathizing with us and who has suffered on our behalf is present even in the Old Testament. Consider Isaiah 53: 

“He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief. Surely He has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; yet we esteemed Him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted. But He was pierced for our transgressions; He was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with His wounds we are healed”(Isaiah 53:3-5, ESV). 

The redemption and unity we have with Jesus as the Messiah is one comfort amongst our struggles; however, I have also seen in my own life where God has used times of sorrow and pain for good. I have learned patience, compassion, and empathy through helping to care for my grandmother during the first eighteen years of my life when I was living back home in Jamaica. During my visit this past winter, there was a baffling union of sorrow and joy in feeding her small spoons of food when she could not for herself: a sorrow brought about by her state but a joy that she was eating and that I could be of help. This is not to say that I understand the reason for all the suffering that others experience or the struggles  that I go through myself. And it is certainly not to say that it’s obvious how there is good in any of the pains we experience. Nevertheless, there are goods in this world that only arise in the face of hardship and pain and they are evidently invaluable to us. Though I may not understand the absolute worth of these goods over others, I have hope that God’s purposes are sufficient. It is entirely reasonable for us not to fully understand the plans of a God who is substantially wiser than we are. This—that is, the wisdom of God—is a part of what Epicirius misses in his problem of evil. As a Chrisitian, I have a certain confidence that God has a greater purpose intended for his people as Paul writes in Romans ,”And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good,[a] for those who are called according to His purpose”(Romans 8:28, ESV).  I have witnessed the word of God prove itself to be true in my life, time and time again. There is a hope in His promise of repurposing the evil in the world, both the evil which we bring about ourselves, and that which this broken world has made the norm. 

But what do I make of the historical accounts found in the Gospels, where Jesus desires to heal the sick and does so readily? Where is that miracle for us when we feel we need it the most? Has God stopped listening to His people?  Not in the least. I would be remiss to ignore the numerous accounts of healing through prayer that occur today. Indeed, amongst these there are imposters. Yet, a multitude of accounts that are verifiable or unexplainable remain to be grappled with. In fact, as I have become more involved in Chrisitian community, I have met more and more people who have had some experience of healing from prayer. In addition to those, I have recently witnessed God heal in response to my own prayers over a friend. I cannot dismiss such a mountain of healing accounts.  I may not know why God chooses to work miracles when He does. Nonetheless, there is a crucial point to be noted about miracles in general. Even the miracles Christ did on this earth were temporary. Those He healed or even rose from the dead still eventually passed away. There is a promise I can look forward to greater than miracles in the present. That promise is a new heaven and new earth in which we are made whole, and the world is restored to what it is intended to be—as seen in Revelations 22. There is hope in a full restoration.

Why then would I seek to remedy disease as a scientist? If there is a purpose to the suffering and if I expect it either to be cured in a miracle or in the restoration of all things, why do anything to combat it? The answer can be encompassed by two words: order and love. In Genesis 1, God sets the creation in order, giving each entity a purpose and defining their sphere of operation. His creation is not haphazard. Because of that I can trust that as I pursue a deeper understanding of the world, even in its corrupted state, there is something to be discovered. There is a promise that the world is intelligible because it was set in order by an intelligent being— in fact, by the most intelligent. This being, our God, summarized His law in two commandments: love the Lord your God and love your neighbor. As Jesus Himself taught, “greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends” (John 15:12, ESV). Dedicating my life to a career where my pursuit is to alleviate the pain in the lives of  people that I may never meet or benefit from is an act of love. I may not succeed, but despite my failures there is value in pursuing the well being of others. Moreover, my career is but one aspect of a life dedicated to God. The way I treat others outside of the lab—the homeless, the poor, the oppressed, the sick, my friends, family and even my enemies—is to be enshrouded in love. I may end up failing in my career by the standards of this world. Yet, there is hope in a creation that has a purpose and the power of genuine love that remedies a multitude of pain, confusion and sins (1 Peter 4:8, ESV). 

Recall the analogy of the river. As time goes on the stones in the midst of the river will be eroded and worn away just as our doubts and pains will be washed away in the New Creation. Thus, I will continue to look for God’s work in the midst of pain and suffering. Where I do not understand, I trust His wisdom. I will continue to pray for miracles to be done and as my faith grows, I will see Him act in even more powerful ways than I already have. Just as many in the faith have seen over the centuries, I will see God show Himself true through His power. Ultimately, I will see the restored world. I will continue to do research knowing that though I may not understand my observations at this moment, there is an intelligible world that my God created. I will continue to love those I come in contact with more than just through a perpetual cycle of experiments and academic speculation. I will continue to hope in the God whose plan encompasses both my life and yours. A plan whose foundation is none other than His love for us and a desire to be in total communion with us once again.