Why Do We suffer?

Where is God while we suffer?

This article opens the first sub-theme in a broader series exploring the problem of evil through a spiritual lens. I begin with a deeply human and urgent question: Where is God in the midst of suffering? Through personal stories, reflections, and interfaith insights, I seek to explore how persistent pain shapes, rather than shatters, our understanding of the Divine.

In my previous reflections on Faith in the Age of Doubt, many readers shared their inner wounds, stories of grief, anxiety, pain, and disillusionment. In this write-up, I do not claim to offer a conclusive explanation, but to honour their pain, and sincerely explore one of the deepest questions humanity has persistently been grappling with: Where is God when we suffer? This piece is not written to provide simple and silencing answers, but it is just an honest and heartfelt reflection, born of empathy, not authority.

Suffering is not an abstract concept. It is not a cold philosophical idea. It is a bleeding wound, wide open before our eyes. Suffering is not always personal; it is also the pain of seeing others in pain.

The suffering we witness around us deeply wounds all those who are sincere and sensitive. We suffer not just for ourselves, but with others. Their grief, their silence, their tears, and their screams bring profound pain to us. We too call out: Where are You, O Almighty, in all this suffering?

In such moments, the question is not intellectual; it is deeply emotional, spiritual, and intuitive. Well-meaning people often respond with phrases like, God has a plan, or there is wisdom behind this. These phrases may comfort the unwavering believer, but for others, especially those with sensitive hearts, such words can sound emotionally distant, even hollow.

When we comfort someone in distress, we often urge them to observe Ṣabr (patience). But let us be honest. Ṣabr is not a mere slogan; it is a profound struggle that only the sufferer truly can understand.

Those who ask Where is God? are not blasphemers. They are often people of deep empathy, those who weep for others, who long for justice, who call on God not with rebellion, but with tears. Their questioning is not disbelief; it is wounded love.

Yet, not everyone asks from the same place. For some, this question becomes a way to dismiss belief altogether. They hastily exclaim: If God existed, this wouldn’t happen. So, the same question, Where is God?, can be either a plea of faith or an accusation of disbelief.

Since suffering is an undeniable reality, let us begin by exploring what it signifies within the broader context of life, as an existential phenomenon, rather than merely within a religious framework.

Is Suffering Meaningless?

Suffering is not inherently good, nor to be idealised, but it may be instrumental. It is perhaps the most difficult reality of human existence; no one escapes it, and yet few truly understand it. While it brings immense pain, we must not overlook the fact that suffering is not without meaning. It has the capacity to transform us. Two examples can suffice in this respect:

Nelson Mandela spent 27 years in prison under apartheid rule, performing hard labour under harsh conditions. While his suffering was immense and unjust, it was in prison that Mandela refined his political philosophy, deepened his patience, and developed the moral authority that would later unify a deeply divided nation.

Mandela’s suffering wasn’t glamorous, but it gave him the resilience and moral clarity that made him a leader capable of reconciliation and national healing. Without that suffering, the ‘Mandela’ we know might not have existed.

Stephen Hawking was diagnosed with amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS) at the age of 21, due to which he slowly lost all motor functions. Yet, it was after his diagnosis and the onset of progressive paralysis that he produced his most groundbreaking work on black holes and cosmology, including his book, A Brief History of Time. Hawking himself noted that the limitations of his body sharpened the focus of his mind.

In both these cases, suffering, far from being idealised, became a crucible through which extraordinary contributions, one in the field of politics and another in science, emerged.

History and experience reveal that many have found God not in comfort, but in crisis. Let us see one well-known case of C.S. Lewis, the acclaimed British writer and academic. Once a committed atheist, who would challenge God by quoting Lucretius, which he translated poetically as follows:

Had God designed the world, it would not be

A world so frail and faulty as we see.

Lewis experienced a dramatic inner transformation after a series of personal losses, including the death of his wife and the trauma of war. He came to see suffering not as an argument against God, but as a means through which God communicates with us. In his famous work The Problem of Pain, where he argues that suffering is not a contradiction to God’s love, but a painful necessity in a world of free creatures being shaped for eternal joy. Lewis wrote, “God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains: it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world.” Lewis’s grief became the soil in which his faith took root, eventually leading him to Christianity.

The internationally acclaimed music composer, A.R. Rahman, born as A.S. Dileep Kumar in Chennai, faced a series of personal tragedies, including the death of his father and the severe illness of his younger sister. During this tumultuous period, he encountered Sufi teachings and was introduced to the Qadiri order of Tasawwuf. The solace and spiritual depth he found in these teachings led him and his family to convert to Islam in 1989. He has since spoken about how his faith provided him with peace and purpose during his darkest times.

These stories and countless others, often untold, demonstrate that suffering is not always a curse. For some, it is the very door through which they encounter a higher truth.

While suffering must not be romanticized or glorified, it also must not be seen as devoid of meaning. It is a call, a deeply personal one, inviting us to look beyond the material and ask, Where is God in all this?

And that is what religion teaches us:

The Holy Qur’ān states: And We will surely test you with something of fear and hunger and a loss of wealth and lives and fruits — but give good tidings to the patient, who, when disaster strikes them, say, ‘Indeed we belong to Allah, and indeed to Him we will return.’ Those are the ones upon whom are blessings from their Lord and mercy. And it is they who are rightly guided. (94:6).

The Bhagavata Gita says: The person who is not disturbed by happiness and distress and is steady in both is certainly eligible for liberation (2:15).

And the Bible says: We also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope (Romans 5:3-4).

These teachings inculcate in us the meaning and growth embedded within adversity. Suffering may not always have immediate explanations, but in the cosmic order, it often becomes the soil where greatness grows.

When we turn to religion, we discover that suffering is not merely to be endured, but holds the potential to transform us, enriching us both spiritually and emotionally.

Next: “The Silence of God: A Test or a Trust?”