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One of the great mysteries to believer and non-believer alike is that of evil and suffering. If there is a God who is omnipotent and omniscient, how can He tolerate evil, injustice, and suffering of the innocent? Where is God when things like shootings (e.g., in the U.S., Paris, and Kenya), church bombings (e.g., in Nigeria), and beheadings (e.g., in Egypt and Iraq) occur? Where is God when a woman or young girl is raped, or when genocide is committed, or when evil men hatch their plots? Why did God even conceive the evil ones and allow them to be born?

The problem of evil cannot be answered simply. It is a mystery. Its purpose and why God permits it are caught up in our limited vision and understanding. Scripture says, all things work together for the good of those who love and trust the Lord and are called according to his purposes (Romans 8:28). But in many circumstances it is difficult for us to see how this is so.

Anyone who has ever suffered a tragic and senseless loss or who has observed the disproportionate suffering that some must endure cannot help but ask, why? And the answers aren’t all that satisfying, for suffering is ultimately mysterious in many ways.

I have some respect for those who struggle to believe in the wake of tragedy. I do not share their struggle, but I understand and respect its depths and the dignity of their questioning. At the end of the trail of questions, often asked in anguish, is a God who has chosen not to supply simple answers. And perhaps even if He did, our simple minds could not comprehend them anyway. We are left to decide, often in the face of great evil and suffering, whether God exists or not.

As in the days of Job, we cry out for answers, but little is forthcoming. In the Book of Job, God speaks from a whirlwind, questioning Job’s ability even to ask the right questions. He doesn’t provide an answer to the problem of evil and suffering. If He were to explain, it seems that all we would hear would be thunder anyway. In the end, He is God and we are not. This must be enough for us; we must look with trust to the reward that awaits the faithful.

Perhaps the most perplexing aspect of suffering is its uneven distribution. In America, we suffer little in comparison to those in many other parts of the world. And even within the U.S., some seem to skate through life strong, wealthy, and well-fed, while others endure suffering, disease, inexplicable and sudden losses, financial setbacks, and other burdens.

While it is true that much of our suffering comes from poor choices, substance abuse, and lack of self-control, some seems completely unrelated to any of these.

The most difficult suffering to accept is that imposed on the innocent by third parties who seem to suffer no penalty: parents who mistreat or neglect their children, corrupt governments, unscrupulous businesses, schemers who exploit others (especially the poor), and crazed killers.

Suffering is hard to explain simply or to accept. I think this just has to be admitted. Simple slogans and quick answers are seldom sufficient in the face of great evil and suffering. And when discussing the existence of evil with an atheist, sympathy, understanding, and a call to humility may go further than forceful rebuttal.

A respectful exposition of the Christian understanding of evil might include some of the following points. Note that these are not explanations per se (for suffering is a great mystery), and they are humble because they acknowledge their own limits.

1. The Scriptures teach that God created a world that was as a paradise. Though we only get a brief glimpse of it, it seems clear that death and suffering were not part of it.
2. But even in the Garden of Eden, the serpent coiled from the branch of a tree called the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. So even in paradise, the mystery of evil lurked.
3. In a way, the tree and the serpent had to be there because we were made to love; love requires freedom and freedom requires choices. The ‘yes’ of love must permit the ‘no’ of sin. In our rebellious ‘no’ both we and the world unraveled, and death and chaos entered in. Paradise was lost and a far more hostile and unpredictable world remained. From this came all of the suffering and evil we endure. Our sins alone cause an enormous amount of suffering on this earth—the vast majority of it, by my reckoning. The suffering caused by natural phenomena is also linked to sin: Original Sin, wherein we preferred to reign in a hellish imitation of paradise rather than to serve in the real paradise.
4. This link of evil and suffering to human freedom also explains God’s typical lack of intervention in evil matters. Were God to intercede routinely, it would make an abstraction of human freedom and thus remove a central pillar of love. But here, too, there is mystery: the Scriptures frequently recount how God did intervene to put an end to evil plots, to turn back wars, and to shorten famines and plagues. Why does He sometimes intervene and sometimes not? Why do prayers of deliverance sometimes get answered and sometimes not? Here, too, there is a mystery of providence.
5. The lengthiest biblical treatise on suffering is the Book of Job. In it, God showed an almost shocking lack of sympathy for Job’s questions and set a lengthy foundation for the conclusion that the mind of man is simply incapable of seeing into the depths of this problem. God saw fit that Job’s faith be tested and strengthened. But in the end, Job was restored and reestablished with even greater blessings in a kind of foretaste of what is meant by Heaven.
6. The First Letter of Peter also has an explanation of suffering: In this you rejoice, although now for a little while you may have to suffer through various trials, so that the genuineness of your faith, more precious than gold that is perishable even though tested by fire, may prove to be for praise, glory, and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ (1 Peter 1:6-7). In other words, our sufferings purify us and prepare us to meet God.
7. Does this mean that those who suffer more need more purification? Not necessarily. It could also mean that a greater glory is waiting for them. For the Scriptures teach, Therefore, we are not discouraged; rather, although our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this momentary light affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison (2 Cor 4:16-17). Hence suffering “produces” glory in the world to come. Those who suffer more, but with faith, will have greater glory in the world to come.
8. Regarding the apparent injustice of uneven suffering, it should be noted that the Scriptures teach of a great reversal, in which the last shall be first (Mat 20:16), the mighty will be cast down while the lowly are exalted, and the rich will go away empty while the poor are filled (Luke 1:52-53). In this sense it is not necessarily a blessing to be rich, well-fed, and unaccustomed to any suffering. In the great reversal, the first will be last. The only chance that the rich and well-heeled have to avoid this end, is to be generous and kind to the poor and those who suffer (1 Tim 6:17-18).
9. Finally, as to God’s apparent insensitivity to suffering, we can only point to Christ, who did not exempt Himself from the suffering that we chose by leaving Eden. He suffered mightily and unjustly but also showed that this would be a way home to paradise.

To these points I am sure you will add, but be careful with the problem of evil and suffering. It has mysterious dimensions that must be respected. Simple answers may not help those who struggle with it. Understanding and an exposition that shows forth the Christian struggle to come to grips with this may be the best way. The “answer” of Scripture requires faith, but it also appeals to reason, and calls us to humility before a great mystery of which we can see only a small part. The appeal to humility in the face of a mystery may command greater respect from an atheist than would pat answers, which may tend to alienate him or her.

Words can change meaning over time—sometimes dramatically. For example, “manufactured” originally meant “handmade” (manu (hand) + facere (make)). The word “decimate” used to mean “to reduce by a tenth” (decem = ten); now people usually use it mean “to wipe out completely.” The list of examples could go on and on. Yes, words do change meaning over time.

One word that has changed meaning dramatically over time is “nice.” Today it is an overused word that usually means pleasant, kind, or easygoing. In our culture there is often a standing admonition that we should be nice, as in “Stop fighting and be nice now!”

But the adjective “nice” once meant anything but nice in the modern sense. Rather, it was a derogatory word used to describe a person as something of a fool.

The word “nice” comes from the Latin nescius, meaning “ignorant, unaware” (ne (not) + scire (know)). The Old French word “nice” (12^th century) also came from this Latin root and meant “careless, clumsy, weak, simple, foolish, or stupid.”

In the 13^th century, “nice” meant “foolish, stupid, or senseless.” In the 14^th century, the word started to morph into meaning “fussy, fastidious.” In the 15^th century it meant “dainty, delicate.” In the 1500s it was used to mean “precise, careful.” By the 18^th century it shifted to meaning “agreeable, delightful.” And by the 19^th century it had acquired its current connotation of “kind and thoughtful.”

The word “nice” has certainly had a tortured history!

Given its older meaning of “ignorant, stupid, or foolish,” it is not surprising that the word “nice” is used only twice in the Douay-Rheims Bible, and in both cases pejoratively.

Today the word can have a meaning that is properly praiseworthy and is basically a synonym for “good.” For example, one might comment, “That was a nice distinction you made.” Or, observing a sporting event, one might say, “That was a nice move!”

However, I am also convinced that the word “nice” is beginning to return to its less noble meanings. This takes place when it is used in a reductionist manner that seeks to simplify the entire moral life to being “nice.” Here, nice is used in the sense of being pleasant and agreeable. To the modern world, in which “pseudo-tolerance” is one of the only “virtues” left, being nice is about the only commandment left. It seems that much will be forgiven a person just so long as he is “nice.” And little will be accepted from a person who is not thought of as “nice.”

I suppose niceness has its place, but being nice is too akin to being harmless, to being someone who introduces no tension and is most often agreeable. As such, a nice person is not so far away from being a pushover, one who is easily manipulated, silenced, and pressured into tacit approval. And thus “nice” begins to move backward into its older meanings: dainty, agreeable, weak, simple, and even further back into weak, simple, unaware, and ignorant.

The pressure to “be nice” easily translates into pressure to put a dumb grin on your face and pretend that things are great even when they’re not. And to the degree that we succumb to this pressure, we allow those who seek to shame us if we aren’t nice get to watch with glee as we walk around with s dumb grin. And they get to think of us, “What an ignorant fool. What a useful idiot.” And thus “nice” takes up its original meaning.

We follow a Lord who was anything but a harmless hippie, or a kind pushover. He introduced tension, was a sign of contradiction, and was opposed by many because he didn’t always say and do pleasant things. Not everything he said was “nice.” He often used strong words: hypocrites, brood of vipers, whitewashed tombs, murderers of the prophets, and evildoers. He warned of judgment and Hell. He spoke in parables about burning cities, doom, destruction, wailing and grinding of teeth, and of seeing enemies slain. These are not kind words, but they are loving words, because they seek to shock us unto conversion. They speak to us of our true state if we remain rebels. Jesus certainly didn’t end up nailed to cross by being nice in any sense of the word.

In the end, “nice” is a weird word. Its meaning has shifted so many times as to be practically without a stable meaning. Today it has further degraded and increasingly returned to its original meaning. Those who insist on the importance of being “nice” usually mean it for you, but not for themselves. They want to have you walk around with a silly grin on your face, being foolishly pleasant, while they laugh behind your back.

To be sure, being “nice” in its best modern sense has its place. We surely should not go around acting like a grouch all day. But just as being nice has its place, so does being insistent, bold, and uncompromising.

I have started reading through a recently published book called Subtracting Christianity: Essays on American Culture and Society. It is an anthology of the writings of Joseph Sobran (1946-2010), long-time editor at National Review and a keen observer of culture and its intersection with faith. I recommend it highly, for its penetrating observations and its sober portrait of what happens when we remove Christianity from our culture, the same Christianity that was fundamental in our making.

I’d like to present just a short passage from the first article in the book, and then add some feeble comments of my own. I’m sure that as I read through the articles I will post more reflections, but for today, I offer just this brief meditation.

Sobran writes beautifully of the strange resistance that the world has for Christ:

Great as Shakespeare is, I never lose sleep over anything he said … By the same token nobody ever feels guilty about anything Plato or Aristotle said … We aren’t tempted to resist them as we are tempted to resist Christ (Subtracting Christianity pp. 1-2).

I have often pondered the world’s special hatred for and resistance to Christ and His Body, the Church; it is unparalleled. Few of the Protestant denominations experience this hatred. The Buddhists don’t seem to be subject to it, nor do the Muslims even despite all the recent terrorism.

There is almost a knee-jerk, visceral reaction to Jesus Christ and His Catholic Church that is so over the top, so irrational, that one has to marvel at it. The world doth protest too much. Why?

Is it fear? Perhaps. But the Church is not powerful enough to “force our views” on everyone, as some who hate us say we do.

There is no rational explanation for the intense fear and hatred of the world for Christ and Catholicism except to echo the words of Christ Himself:

If the world hates you, know that it has hated me before it hated you. If you were of the world, the world would love you as its own; but because you are not of the world, but I chose you out of the world, therefore the world hates you. Remember the word that I said to you: ‘A servant is not greater than his master.’ If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you. If they kept my word, they will also keep yours. But all these things they will do to you on account of my name, because they do not know him who sent me. If I had not come and spoken to them, they would not have been guilty of sin, but now they have no excuse for their sin. Whoever hates me hates my Father also. If I had not done among them the works that no one else did, they would not be guilty of sin, but now they have seen and hated both me and my Father. But the word that is written in their Law must be fulfilled: ‘They hated me without cause’ (Jn 15:18-25).

Yes, they hated Him without cause—at least any rational cause. For indeed, there must be a cause. But it is so irrational and hateful that I surmise it must be that Satan himself is interacting with our flesh. Satan hates Christ in a way that he doesn’t hate Mohammed, or Luther, or Deepak Chopra. Christ is a true threat, so Satan rages. And the world and flesh draw from this rage and fear.

Think I’m exaggerating? Try to get excerpts from the Quran studied in public school and the reaction is almost non-existent. But try to get a gospel studied and the lawsuits and public outrage are nearly instantaneous. Why do the “Christmas wars” target not only nativity sets and Santa (who, by the way, is a secular remake of St. Nicholas), but now even the colors red and green? Talk about excessive and over-the-top; the rage and fear is out of control!

Sobran says it well: Christ makes people lose sleep in ways that others do not. His words and teachings touch a core that others never do. That the world bristles is a compliment. Jesus Christ has to be taken seriously. You may be mad, or sad, or glad, but no one goes away from Jesus Christ unchanged or merely “informed.” His words have an authority that demand a response. And the world seems to know this and thus bristles at Jesus. Some love Him, some hate Him, but few are neutral to Him.

Ask yourself, “Why is this so?” Could it be that Christ really is who He says He is: Lord and God? Could it be that it is His voice echoing in your conscience? Call this the argument from irrational hatred and fear. Rank it up there with the argument from motion or the argument from design. This strange, irrational, and excessive fear; this anger toward and even hatred of Christ attests to the truth of His claims to be the One whom we will either love or hate. We cannot serve two masters (cf Mat 6:24).

Shakespeare doesn’t make you lose sleep, neither does Plato or Aristotle. Why is that?

To every secularist and atheist, I direct these questions: Why do you protest Christ and His Church so much? Why do you exaggerate our power? If we really are irrelevant, if our “day is over” and we are laughably outdated, then why the fear, anger, and protest? Do our “myths” scare you? But if they are mere myths, then why the fear and protest? Why don’t you direct the same wrath at Buddha? Is it that still, small voice in your conscience?

What is it? Why your sleepless wrath?

Sobran observes the odd spectacle of greater intensity for Christ from his opponents than his friends in these words:

Sometimes I think the anti-Christian forces take Christ more seriously than most nominal Christians do…[Indeed] Such a strong and unique personality [as Christ had] could only meet strong and unique resistance. That is why Christians shouldn’t resent the resistance of those who refuse to celebrate his birth [and protest us doing so]. In their way, these people are his witnesses too. (Ibid pp 7-8)