When Bad Things Happen to Good People
Suffering is
meaningless unless you decide otherwise.
By Harold S. Kushner
The following article,
excerpted from Kushner's bestseller, is a response to suffering which assumes
that God is not the immediate cause of tragedy. It should be noted, however,
that this is the theological solution of this particular thinker, and indeed,
is probably contrary to traditional covenantal theology, which assumes that
suffering is inflicted on the Jewish people because of their sins. Reprinted
with permission from When
Bad Things Happen to Good People,
published by Schocken Books.
Suffering is Not Punishment from a Cruel God
I believe in God. But I do not believe the same things about
Him that I did years ago, when I was growing up or when I was a theological
student. I recognize His limitations. He is limited in what He can do by laws
of nature and by the evolution of human nature and human moral freedom.
I no longer hold God responsible
for illnesses, accidents, and natural disasters, because I realize that I gain
little and I lose so much when I blame God for those things. I can worship a
God who hates suffering but cannot eliminate it, more easily than I can worship
a God who chooses to make children suffer and die, for whatever exalted reason.
Some years ago, when the
"death of God" theology was a fad, I remember seeing a bumper sticker
that read "My God is not dead; sorry about yours." I guess my bumper
sticker reads "My God is not cruel; sorry about yours."
God does not cause our
misfortunes. Some are caused by bad luck, some are caused by bad people, and
some are simply an inevitable consequence of our being human and being mortal,
living in a world of inflexible natural laws.
The painful things that happen to
us are not punishments for our misbehavior, nor are they in any way part of
some grand design on God's part. Because the tragedy is not God's will, we need
not feel hurt or betrayed by God when tragedy strikes. We can turn to Him for
help in overcoming it, precisely because we can tell ourselves that God is as
outraged by it as we are.
A Sense of Meaning Makes Pain More Bearable
"Does that mean that my
suffering has no meaning?" That is the most significant challenge that can
be offered to the point of view I have been advocating in this book. We could
bear nearly any pain or disappointment if we thought there was a reason behind
it, a purpose, to it. But even a lesser burden becomes too much for us if we
feel it makes no sense.
Patients in a veterans' hospital
who have been seriously wounded in combat have an easier time adjusting to
their injuries than do patients with exactly the same injury, sustained while
fooling around on a basketball court or a swimming pool, because they can tell
themselves their suffering at least was in a good cause. Parents who convince
themselves that there is some purpose somewhere served by their child's
handicap can accept it better for the same reason.
Do you remember the biblical
story, in chapter 32 of Exodus, about Moses, how, when he came down from Mount
Sinai and saw the Israelites worshiping the golden calf, he threw down the
tablets of the Ten Commandments so that they shattered?
There is a Jewish legend that
tells us that while Moses was climbing down the mountain with the two stone
tablets on which God had written the Ten Commandments, he had no trouble
carrying them although they were large, heavy slabs of stone and the path was
steep. After all, though they were heavy, they had been inscribed by God and
were precious to him. But when Moses came upon the people dancing around the
golden calf, the legend goes, the words disappeared from the stone. They were
just blank stones again. And now they became too heavy for him to hold on to.
We could bear any burden if we thought there was a meaning
to what we were doing. Have I made it harder for people to accept their
illnesses, their misfortunes, their family tragedies by telling them that they
are not sent by God as part of some master plan of His?
Let me suggest that the bad
things that happen to us in our lives do not have a meaning when they happen to
us. They do not happen for any good reason which would cause us to accept them
willingly. But we can give them a meaning. We can redeem these tragedies from
senselessness by imposing meaning on them.
Looking to the Future Redeems Our Tragedies
The question we should be asking
is not, "Why did this happen to me? What did I do to deserve this?"
That is really an unanswerable, pointless question. A better question would be
"Now that this has happened to me, what am I going to do about it?"
Martin Gray, a survivor of the
Warsaw Ghetto and the Holocaust, writes of his life in a book called For Those I Loved. He tells how, after
the Holocaust, he rebuilt his life, became successful, married, and raised a
family. Life seemed good after the horrors of the concentration camp.
Then one day, his wife and
children were killed when a forest fire ravaged their home in the south of
France. Gray was distraught, pushed almost to the breaking point by this added
tragedy. People urged him to demand an inquiry into what caused the fire, but
instead he chose to put his resources into a movement to protect nature from
future fires.
He explained that an inquiry, an
investigation, would focus only on the past, on issues of pain and sorrow and
blame. He wanted to focus on the future. An inquiry would set him against other
people--"was someone negligent? whose fault was it?"--and being
against other people, setting out to find a villain, accusing other people of
being responsible for your misery, only makes a lonely person lonelier. Life,
he concluded, has to be lived for something, not just against something.
We too need to get over the questions that focus on the past
and on the pain--"why did this happen to me?"--and ask instead the
question which opens doors to the future: "Now that this has happened,
what shall I do about it?"
Rabbi Harold S.
Kushner is Rabbi Laureate of Temple Israel in Natick, Massachusetts. He is the
author of numerous books including Living a Life that Matters.
Copyright (c) 1981 by
Harold S. Kushner.