3.1. (Im)passible God
In addition to biological foundations, suffering also has metaphysical roots. Suffering is a very theological (theodicean) issue, perhaps even more so. Humans, as believing beings, cannot reject the challenging speech of God and His action since the sensual experience of God precedes the rational and conceptual understanding of God. Pain, and especially suffering, are manifested in the pre-original
accusation of God, which not only requires God to engage in salvation but also to be sensitive to human trauma. In other words, it is the affective content, not the representational content, of a person’s suffering that would allow God to respond to the person’s needs. Theologians say that God’s bodily life is already incarnated in human bodily life through his Son. Such incarnation connects the person with the
salvational (perhaps rather with the eschatological?) action of God. A person’s bodily sensibility is the primary relational mode with the world: “The body is neither an obstacle opposed to the soul nor a tomb that imprisons it, but that by which the self is susceptibility itself. Incarnation is an extreme passivity; to be exposed to sickness, suffering, death is to be exposed to compassion, and, as a self, to the gift that costs” (
Lévinas 2002, p. 195). The incarnation is not simply an intimate abstract relationship between the person and God but must also refer to a compassionate intracorporeal relationship. A person, as a passive and powerless being with regard to pain and suffering, is not a coward and indifferent to God’s insensitivity, impassibility. Paradoxically, it is courage that makes the person a believer. Can God, therefore, feel a person’s suffering?
An online study by Gray and Wegner shows that the more a person suffers, the more she believes. Where does this disproportion between one’s own existential state and trust in God come from? According to the research above, “religiosity stems from the dyadic nature of both morality and mind perception” (
Gray and Wegner 2010, p. 7). In the mentioned online study, it was shown that the respondents understand the mind mainly in terms of experience (the ability to feel and be conscious) and agency (the ability to do things). In their view, there is a dual type of entity: those who have experience but no action (e.g., babies, dogs, and children), and God, who has action but no experience. In addition, respondents answered that God has an “impoverished mental life” (ibid., p. 7). In moral typecasting theory, moral situations are divided into moral agents (heroes and villains) and moral patients (victims and beneficiaries). According to the dyadic structure of morality, we tend to look for the culprit for bad deeds and a hero whom we will praise and worship. In the absence of rebuke and praise, all the credit for moral acts is
taken by God as the ultimate moral agent. What is interesting in this study is the fact that although God can do many things, He, unfortunately, remains “incapable of feeling pain, pleasure, or other inner experience” (ibid., p. 14). Human beings with their physical body and physical life seem to have an advantage over God because they have a sensory dimension and experience. Since God has no body and since He has no experience, i.e.,
incapable of feeling pain, He is then impassible and does not suffer (
Mullins 2018).
Then why do people need God? According to
cognitivists, we simply need God as the ultimate moral agent, especially in cases where we do not find a reasonable sequence of events from which suffering arises that cannot be understood and explained: “He [God] is a moral agent but not a moral patient, deserving of our curses and praises but not of our sympathies” (
Gray and Wegner 2010, p. 9). Many other researchers such as Boyer feel that people simply unnecessarily attribute moral action to a being they have neither seen nor heard because it is simply a general tendency (
Boyer 2001). The reason why people need an extraterrestrial moral agent lies, according to cognitive researchers, in their Hyperactive Agent Detection Device (
Barrett 2000). Since humans could not find a responsible moral agent on earth, then all the obscure events were attributed to the supernatural one. Attributing events to an external agent has the benefits of physical and psychological effects because people have a
sense of control over events. When people do not find a responsible moral agent for major events such as famine or earthquakes, they are simply looking for a far stronger moral agent—God. Especially when it comes to miraculous events, people transfer all the power of such an event to a supernatural being even more (
Pargament and Hahn 1986).
What can we say about the above online study? We cannot omit the idea of God as a moral agent, which is one of God’s major activities in the universe. This becomes especially clear in
The Transcendental Doctrine of Method, at the end of
The Critique of Pure Reason, where Kant writes: “the belief in a God and another world is so interwoven with my moral disposition” (
Kant 1998, p. 689) that one cannot exist without the other. Furthermore, we are probably the only creatures who consciously question the necessity and justification of morality, God, and suffering. Research of this type, an online study, said nothing qualitatively new about God’s co-suffering, other than showing a large percentage of public opinion about the impassible God. On the contrary, other opinions, albeit theoretical, can be cited, such as that of trinitarian Christian theology, according to which the Father suffered with his Son on the cross (
Moltmann 1993): “If God has really participated in a representative sample of human suffering, then God Himself must somehow suffer under the shadow of divine silence”” (
Bell 2019, p. 50). However, the suffering of a child lying in a hospital and the suffering of a father who is next to the bed of a sick child is not the same, the suffering of the Son of God and the Father
under the shadow of divine silence, many will notice. The mentioned child both hurts and suffers; primarily physically. While, in the case of the father, there is probably only suffering. His body is healthy unlike, for example, a sick child’s body. As Lewis puts it, “Whatever fools may say, the body can suffer twenty times more than the mind. The mind has always some power of evasion. At worst, the unbearable thought only comes back and back, but the physical pain can be absolutely continuous” (
Lewis 1961, pp. 40–41). Therefore, our notion of suffering necessarily implies a distance from the everyday notion of co-suffering. For the everyday notion of suffering arising from the will and one’s own reasons, the co-suffering subject need not risk the body. Suffering with another is one that implies a co-sufferer’s responsibility with a certain consciousness and intention and arises primarily from various calculations but not from bodily sacrifice for another. Therefore, the
original (bodily) suffering is that which rests on bodily pain and not on rational reflection.
Although God cannot suffer in the way that human being suffers, the question remains why did this good and omnipotent God grant us suffering and pain? We could repeat the answer of J. B. Metz, who says that “this question now becomes a major theological question, an absolute eschatological question, a question that can neither be answered nor forgotten, a question for which we, from our side, have no answer; it is the question of ‘too much’” (
Metz 2006, p. 225). Does a good God then have any control over natural events and human lives? “Or if God has some purpose in mind that is being accomplished, whether directly or indirectly by the occurrence of such catastrophes, does this not prove such a God to be the cruel ‘tyrant’ that Nietzsche claimed God to be?” (
Kropf 2006, p. 183). The question of evil and suffering is ultimately placed in the relationship between man and God, between the experiencer and the experienced, between the unjustifiable and the incoherent, between the salvational God and the
unredeemable pain… Stump’s claim that “the problem of suffering is, in a sense, a question about
interpersonal relations, insofar as the problem has to do with possible morally sufficient reasons for God, an omnipotent, omniscient, perfectly good
person, to allow human persons to suffer as they do” (
Stump 2010, p. 61). The relational and narrative solution is
the most tempting because only subjective experience of suffering can turn the discourse of pain to one’s own physicality which is most concerned by the theodicy of suffering.
3.2. Practical Consolation in the Therapeutic Narrative
Narration is very important when contemplating suffering, as human nature is narrative. A man that does not know how to verbalize suffering stays unexpressed, incomplete, and this can result in psychological disease, as stories have therapeutic power. Through secondary experiences, a person can find meaning in suffering and models of solutions. Others, their story and experience, their life and work, give us a broader perspective, facing us toward our internal world and examining it from another point of view.
Suffering is not in vain and without hope. If we look at heroic stories and myths, we see that they share a narrative structure in which the main character voluntarily or forcibly leaves home, an area ruled by order, to step into an area of disorder. The hero’s motivation is also important, which plays an important role in whether he will face the set task and whether he will bring something of exceptional value from that task. This rhythm is present in all great world narratives. Only when she escapes from the limitations of a safe place when she leaves the conformism of living and enters an unknown area can a person transcend herself and enrich her spirit. Therefore, this approach to literary texts, including the biblical text, can be considered a call to internalize the story and identify with the protagonist who makes Kierkegaard’s leap of faith into the unknown. The person is called to move away from the existing in order to realize to some extent the meaning of what surrounds her and affects her as a whole. At this point, we come to the paradox of Christianity.
This is best seen in the example of Job who says, “I know that my redeemer lives, and that in the end he will stand on the earth. And after my skin has been destroyed, yet in my flesh I will see God” (Job 19, pp. 25–26). From the initial shock and astonishment at the unjust suffering, Job changes perspective on his condition as he rises from his situation the moment he faces it. The quoted passage highlights the formulation of the salvation and hope of the suffering person. In the preceding passages, God helps Job reconstruct the distorted state by suffering by examining his self-identity of egoistic righteousness. It was the presence of pain and suffering that was the intersection of his cry for the changeability of his future. Although Job longs for a bodily or intracorporeal relationship, such a relationship is absent. The hope for a change in the sufferer’s physical condition was, only temporarily, postponed. Yet Job risked his bodily life by blaming God for his condition. In a figurative sense, Job risked his existence even when the truth he was talking about could be rejected by endangering his faith, his social position, his self: “Suffering recalls Job, as it recalls patients today, to three dimensions of human existence: to a sense of integrity and self; to a recreated relationship with God; and to renewed harmony with the human community” (
Fleischer 1999, pp. 480–81). By such actions, Job’s place in the aegis of faith is at stake. Job’s question of suffering ends in silence, in torment, in hope. It is only on the border of God’s suffering and man’s cry that the mystical encounter and possible answer to the question of Job and our suffering occurs, to which everyone should answer from their own perspective. In all biblical narrations, as in the one about Job, it is always about searching for exit (exodus), freedom, of looking for a new life path and meaning. The tale of Job is about unbreakable hope that, despite all hardship, suffering will cease at the end and suffering will have a positive outcome. One more positive characteristic of this story is that it has the strength of identification as a healing, therapeutic character. The story of Job is simply a secondary experience that converts into an intimate experience. The listener/reader is identifying with Job, and through Job he finds representational expression of his own dealing with suffering. Through Job, expressing encouragement or conformation of his path highlighting the necessity of change.
Through narrative as a therapeutic (
Griffioen 2018) memory of the sufferer and a return to dignity, the person is allowed to pause before the unexpected, unusual response of her God. In the structure of the suffering and tribulation of the innocent (Job), even in her non-existence as denial, there is a God who sees. It is not an effort to construct an indecisive identity of unbearable suffering from God’s (in)audible speech, which even God does not pay attention to. We simply cannot respond to the suffering of the world and the community. The meaning of individual suffering is found in the experience and breaking of God’s silence and one’s own hope in listening to his response. We can poetically exclaim that lamentation is a trace of a
burning bush that is only experienced up close and that remains inaccessible if one wants to preserve one’s own life and not trivialize the mystery of suffering. Therefore, awe is the first attitude in interpersonal relationships, especially in the most sublime relationship, in the love of God where the measure is lost first and foremost and in which it is so easy to slip into selfish presumption and triviality.
3.3. God’s (In)active Force in Relieving Pain and Suffering
Yet, in the end, the question of suffering concerns primarily meaning, what a person expects from life, and what she seeks at the end of her earthly existence which goes inevitably naturally towards its cessation, towards its extinction: “It is not suffering that destroys people, but suffering without meaning” (
Gunderman 2002, p. 42). Therefore, the biblical meaning also indicates that, if a person believes, if she surrenders to that terrible abyss, life is just beginning, and the suffering—physical, moral, mental—stops. Still, the problem remains how to surmount the insurmountable? It also remains unclear how to overcome the infinite distance between almighty God and powerless and suffering man? How does such an endless relationship work and how does it shape the sufferer? How can dynamic intersubjective life function constructively within an infinite relationship?
Possible approaches and solutions are as follow:
(a) It is about a difficult question, how to save God’s power, his all-knowingness, and goodness. The Christian answer is this: Christ’s suffering and death on the cross marks a foundational historical event but always under God’s unexpected merciful approach. Where there was defeat and nothingness, as in the example of Job, God is bringing new life. Lastly, embodied God becomes a human intermediary to save humanity. In the same way that gods work, this heroic event is not happening outside of the concrete life of an individual in the same way the suffering cannot be abstract but always concrete and personal. Believing that the merciful God exists, with his continuous redemption, truly is immeasurable comfort. In this comfort is rooted the endurance of suffering. It is important to point out Christ’s divine–human mediator role, not just his divine mediator but the redeemer-salvation character of his humanity. His humanity represents the character of God’s salvation.
(b) Only a rational approach to suffering destroys suffering because of its divided understanding of suffering, and the experience of suffering. Rationalizing suffering is problematic, although necessary, because it views suffering as a static, statistical, documentary, etc., dataset. Experiential and lived suffering requires the transformation of not only the body but also the spirit as it seeks answers. Thus, the religious approach to suffering corresponds to the purification of personal life, implying the renunciation, conversion, modification, and transcendence of existence. The religious treatment of suffering is not intended for the acquisition of knowledge but a person’s very existence. Therefore, we give preference to faith over experimental disciplines ones since believers talk about suffering that can very well be in touch with life. Of course, the insights of the experimental sciences are unavoidable when it comes to the pain that manifests in our body. Experimentally observed pain and suffering are devoid of context. They go simply to establish the facts. They worry too little about how to survive today, how to live tomorrow: “The problem of evil and suffering is not a puzzle to be solved but an experience to be lived with” (
Dein et al. 2013, p. 200). Since suffering arises from compassion, that is, love for people and self, suffering is no more abstract, it is rather embodied, incarnated, intersubjective. In essence, such incarnated suffering is a well-known concept in Christian theology, which views life as the art of dealing with life’s adversities. Suffering as subjective knowledge can serve a person as bliss to the extent that its religious content creates a specific style for the person by transforming her being. Suffering is the wisdom and virtue of life, realized by a certain transformation of the suffering person. Moreover, what is gained in transformation is practical knowledge of life: “In our response to the mystery of suffering, we define ourselves, find our integrity and ultimately shape our ethos” (
Fleischer 1999, p. 485).
(c) Taking a human form, he becomes not just a symbol and a sign, but a real embodiment of the divine. In his appearance, it is present the invisible. From this it is then obvious that infinitely merciful God that suffers and dies can also co-suffer.
(d) Constitutively remembering of Christian faith from the beginning can be summarized in the words: “memoria passionis, crucis, mortis et resurrectionis Jesu Christi”. Christian remembering of the cross and theology of Christ’s death on the cross does not end in defeat but on the experience that good final prevails, that death and suffering are defeated by love. Therefore, Christian handling of suffering does not rest in the feeling of abandonment and weakness but witnesses God’s salvation and new life. Initial disappointment transforms into gratitude. Christian remembering on the cross that is not only focused on the pain and suffering but true gratitude of personal salvation happily open to all people. Christ’s cross is the synthesis of all suffering.
(e) Therefore, God’s plan of salvation is not based on the limits of human possibility. God works, amid human possibility and final man’s suffering, in the nothingness that is not removed from radical God’s abandonment. Finally, God gives a purpose to every suffering to be allowed and surrendered to, which includes resistance and unrest with suffering for a greater purpose, includes the transformation due to love toward the man. The Christian understanding of pain and suffering does not have the purpose of succumbing to the cross but mainly giving purpose to scuffing through love the same way that Jesus did. The point of following his footsteps is not to be abandoned by God and people or suffer the same consequences; in contrast, as suffering is individual, it remains the challenge that needs to be given meaning.