InterVarsity Press

Conversations: Why Do Evil Things Happen?

Constantine:

Why did God allow the tsunami disaster? Why is there evil in the world if God is all-powerful?

Ruth:

Your question is the hardest question of all to answer. And, the question is impossible to answer whether thousands of people are killed or just one. If we worship a personal, all-powerful, all-good God, why do these tragic events happen?

In Reformed circles, the easy answer I hear is that such things happen because of the Fall, because of human sin and fallenness. For example, someone was at fault in the auto accident that killed my mother many years ago. But who was at fault in the case of the tsunami? To answer for God is more than we are called to do, as Job soon found out. So, we are better off not to answer that question. We raise our lament and anger to God, but we need not defend God. When tragedy occurs, we reach out to God as our Strength and our Helper, and sometimes we find solace in his Presence.

In my book God Talk, I tell a story about such a situation:

A friend, her husband, and her two children went hiking in a mountainous region of Slovakia. It was there that on a foggy morning her seventh-grade daughter, who had gone out for a short walk, disappeared. After three hours of searching, a call came that she had fallen and had been found still conscious by some Czech hikers who transported her to a hospital. When my friend and her husband arrived, they were told she was sleeping, a condition perhaps brought on by sedatives. The next morning she awakened and recognized them, but by the afternoon she slipped into a coma from which she never awoke.

My friend relates, "By evening...I had to battle with God. I was desperate...I would wrestle with God, and just as Jacob got his blessing, I would get [my daughter back]...I tantrumed like a two-year-old. Pounding my fist...In the midst of that, I had the experience of [hearing] my daughter's voice say, 'Mom, can I go?' I also heard the phrase, 'Let God be God.' With both phrases bumping in my head, I wanted to yell 'NO! You don't know!' Immediately I thought of the Father giving up his Son for me. I knew. I was being called to open my fist. And I did. I went back to her room. It was the hardest and easiest thing I have ever done. Everything was the same and everything was very different. She still lay in a coma. I told her, 'Honey, if God says you can go, you go. And have fun. We're going to let God call all the shots...But if Jesus says you can come back, I would like to have you come back.' That was all. The peace that flooded me was beyond all understanding. As I sat at her bedside I began to sing. My daughter died.

One night six months later, anger welled up in me. It was not fair. It was God's fault that my daughter died, and I didn't want him as my God anymore. I told him what I had decided. Within seconds, I was terrified. I had lived six months without my daughter, but I couldn't live one second without God. I begged him to forgive me. Again, I felt his arms around me. That bitter anger has not returned. Since my daughter's death, God has become so real. He is more important to me than my life."

My friend's story is a story of God's presence. It speaks to anyone who searches for God. This is a story of real Presence that has no explanation apart from the profound and mysterious love of God.