Where Is God When It Hurts? by Philip Yancey (Review)
Yancey wrote this book in his twenties and then conducted a major rewrite 15 years later. In that time, many people continued discoursing on the matter with him in that time, which prompted new material. The result is a thoughtful book on a challenging subject. Yancey opened his book with a quote by C.S. Lewis who was writing amid great pain:
Meanwhile, where is God? This is one of the most disquieting symptoms. When you are happy, so happy that you have no sense of needing Him…if you remember yourself and turn to Him with gratitude and praise, you will be — or so it feels — welcomed with open arms. But go to Him when your need is desperate, when all other help is vain, and what do you find? A door slammed in your face, and a sound of bolting and double bolting on the inside. After that, silence. You may as well turn away.
It is in that silence that Yancey steers his book, and I am grateful I read it in a time when the only struggle I’m facing is that of quarantine instead of a time of personal pain. Yancey provides a helpful framework to understand pain and its purpose. Given the title, it’s no surprise that Yancey looks at pain from a spiritual perspective, but I think the framework is useful even for individuals who do not follow Christianity. Part of the reason I offer this opinion is based on the current developments during the Covid-19 pandemic. It is only in suffering and isolation that people tend to look at the larger issues of life and death or philosophy and theology—the big questions. Humans rarely question God in the midst of pleasure, so it is important to give thought and care when times provides an opportunity for contemplation.
As Yancey explored the issue of pain, he wanted to look at more than the philosophical question but start with the eyes of the sufferers. With this in mind, his book focuses on three parts: (1) the biological nature of pain; (2) the planet as a whole and how suffering fits in the bigger picture; and (3) how we should respond to people in pain.
Yancey notes that symptoms are different from the illness. Symptoms prompt reflection and questioning. Symptoms lead us to respond to the illness. When the symptom are painful, they are often the body’s way of working to prevent greater pain. Consider the pain sensors in skin—the first defense of the body from pressure, heat, cold, and disease.
Years ago, Yancey met with Dr. Paul Brand, the pioneering physician who worked with those suffering nerve damage. Dr. Brand developed manmade systems that used sound and lights to signal that people were damaging their hands. The only warning system that worked was pain—an electronic pulse—that was out of reach from being shut off with an override. Humans need to listen to their pain and not shut off the warning system. As Dr. Brand put it, “pain is the great gift that nobody wants.”
Yancey offered a helpful juxtaposition of pleasure and pain because both sensations use the same nerve receptors. We live in a world that allows pain relief as a normal course of living: Tylenol to relieve headaches, allergy medicine to stop running noses, and Pepto-Bismol for upset stomachs. The absence of pain has an effect on pleasure. By eliminating pain, humans increasingly seek constant pleasure. Simple pleasures are less likely to be enjoyed; artificial and vicarious pleasures replace the real thing. Be it stimulant drugs or mere numbing daily activities of feeding the brain with entertaining television—both will numb the senses.
This point in the book was where Yancey turned away from the physical analysis of pain and more to the philosophical. I have collected some of the points I found interesting:
Augustine’s Confession note that the greatest pleasures often connect to suffering. He uses a seafarer who welcomes the calm seas after surviving a storm or a human who has recovered to full health after a time of sickness. Deprivation heightens joy.
Yancey also observes that pain protects us from damaging ourselves worse. Fear produces adrenaline that primes the body for action. One physician he interviewed said that everything worthwhile includes fear. Guilt prompts change in behavior—knowing right from wrong. The good connects to the bad. Yancey’s final example on this point was when Jesus said “he who loses his life for my sake will find it.” This paradoxical statement emphasizes the merit of living as a servant. When the applause of this earth is your desire, then life will include only fleeting satisfaction. But if living in service is your objective—a life that may be overlooked or even ridiculed—then such a life includes the promise of fulfillment and recognition in God’s kingdom.
Yancey used the modern fable, Watership Down, to highlight the point that the sole purpose of life is not to be comfortable. The tame rabbits in the story traded their acceptance of death to be fat, happy, and content. The wild rabbits noticed that traps and death hung over the land of the tame rabbits. We humans are the same. To live focused on self-satisfaction—hedonism or some form of it—ignores the pain of the world. Christianity does not ignore pain, and its people shouldn’t either. Pain should drive people to God in the way that C.S. Lewis describes it: “pain is the megaphone of God.” Suffering turns people to the hope of redemption and restoration.
When John Donne was bedridden and facing death from typhus, he heard the church bell ringing. At first, he thought his friends had arranged the bell’s ringing for him before soon realizing it was a neighbor who had died from the plague. The occasion inspired him to write, “For Whom the Bell Tolls.” His poem starts with the famous line that “no man is an island” and describes how each death lessens every other person. Each person is connected by death. This point sets up the concluding line, “the bell tolls for thee.” When Donne recovered, he realized that pain and suffering were the points in his life when he grew the most in character and closeness to God.
When Yancey leads group discussions on the subject of suffering, he often asks different people to evaluate the Bible’s explanation of cause when it comes to pain. Depending on what section you read, you could come up with a different result: God, Satan, evil, or foolish behavior. His conclusion is that there is not a unified construct of cause. On a related note, when God inflicts suffering in the Bible, it comes with a clear warming. Punishment can only be effective when the reason is clearly communicated. Further—see Paul’s painful infliction—there are examples when suffering comes without a clear reason for it. The distinction between punishment and suffering is important.
Notice how Jesus used His miraculous healing to relieve pain and suffering. Yet He did so with reluctance at nearly every turn. It seems that intervening with the wiring of the world should not be a constant happening. When Jesus was asked about two tragedies in the Bible—Pontius Pilate killing Galileans worshipers and the tower in Siloam falling and killing 18 other Galileans—He asked, “do you think that they were worse offenders than all the others who lived in Jerusalem? No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all likewise perish.” Jesus confirms that bad things happen in this world irrespective of people and their sin. What matters is walking with God.
Yancey reminds us that happiness is not our earthly goal. He uses the example of a pampered child whose father pushes his daughter in a carriage all her days. Such a child would be so pampered she would become an invalid. Humans are incomplete creatures. We use and abuse the freedom we have. It is in our mistakes that we grow in character (or whither in character). If we lived in a world without general laws of nature—one that altered constantly to prevent harm or suffering—would have no need or opportunity for bravery or generosity because there would be no need for the trait because there would be no danger or need.
Continuing the idea, Yancey highlighted how often God’s people suffered: Job, Hosea, and even Jesus. Attributing suffering directly to God leads to a philosophy of fatalism—all suffering is punishment and inevitable. This runs counter to the Bible’s teaching. Look at Hebrews 11. The people of great faith includes some examples of people who prospered by earthly standards, but many lived poverty-filled and suffering lives. These were the people recognized by God. Death is inevitable for all, and the Bible emphasizes that it is not what we die out of but what we die into.
At the end his trials, Job asks, “Why, God?” God answers but only speaks of His expanse of power. He seems only to say, “stop whining; you have no idea of My grand design.” And Job accepts the answer completely. In the end, it was God’s presence that filled Job’s void of hurt. God did not answer why, He only responded by asking Job, “how will you respond to what you’ve experienced?” Yancey then transitions to the New Testament and 1 Peter 4:12: “Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you.” Suffering has value, and we are to rejoice in it. We’re not supposed to grin and bear it in an effort of self-sufficiency or masochism. The focus is on the end result of developing perseverance and character. Look at James 1: we do not rejoice in the pain itself but the opportunity for growth and transformation.
Yancey told the stories of two talented youths who became quadriplegics their youths: Brian Sternberg and Joni Eareckson Tada. Sternberg was a world-record pole vaulter and Eareckson who had been a trick horseback rider and lacrosse player. Sternberg lost his fame because of his paralysis, while Eareckson Tada gained it as a painter and speaker. Both became Christians after paralysis but with different perspectives. Sternberg prayed for healing his whole life, while Tada embraced how the injury focused her life on God’s grace. Despite these differences, both lived out John 9: neither of them sinned or had parents that sinned to cause their suffering. Both had circumstances “that the works of God might be displayed” in them.
Dr. Pierre Rentchnick researched 300 influential leaders in world history. His list included Alexander the Great, Napoleon, George Washington, and Adolph Hitler. The common thread he discovered prompted the title of his publication, “Do Orphans Lead the World?” Each of the leaders had been orphaned either literally or emotionally abandoned. Dr. Paul Tournier continued with this research to explore the effects of creative suffering. Tournier does not propose that suffering is a good thing. Instead, he noted that the right transforming agent applied at the right time during or after suffering can lead to incredible growth. What leads some to crumble can cause others to grow—the worst hardships can produce strength instead of brokenness.
Yancey looked at the special attention God gives to the poor during the sermon on the mount. He came across a list of the advantages to being poor written by a Catholic Sister named, Monika Hellwig. Yancey adapted the list for suffering:
1. Suffering is the great equalizer. It leads us to realize our need for redemption.
2. Suffering teaches interdependence with each other.
3. Sufferers learn not to put their security in that which can be taken away.
4. Suffering humbles the proud.
5. Suffering leads to little expectation of succeeding in competition. They expect much in cooperation.
6. Suffering helps distinguish between necessities and luxuries.
7. Suffering teaches patience born of acknowledged dependence.
8. Suffering teaches the difference between valid fears and exaggerated fears.
9. To suffering people, the gospel offers hope and comfort. It sounds sweet instead of a threat.
10. Those who suffer can respond to the call of the Gospel with total abandonment because they have little to lose.
People who live in comfort have a harder time seeing these benefits. The illusion of self-sufficiency causes people to miss out on the gift of grace.
Yancey quoted Fyodor Dostoyevsky and The House of the Dead: Or, Prison Life in Siberia when Dostoyevsky observe, “I went so far as to thank fate for the privilege of such loneliness, for only that could have caused me so severely to scrutinize my past, so searchingly to examine its inner and outer life.” This idea has been with me throughout quarantine—not that quarantine compares to a Siberian prison, but the idea is relevant.
After looking at Elie Wiesel’s Night, Yancey commented that the Bible should move us from asking, “why?” to the richer question: “to what end?” Surely God did not desire to see Jesus suffer on the cross. Yet He did. Good can come from tragedy, though this good is hard to see in the moment. Faith means believing in advance what good will come.
Yancey described his accompanying a friend to Make Today Count Meetings, a therapy group for the terminally ill. One observation was that no one spoke or acted to impress. It was a bared, helpless, and hurting environment. This side of humanity may not ever be on display in the real world. Does the fact that everyone is terminally ill and hurting change how we ought to speak and present ourselves? The way to help people is to love them. To love is to serve. To serve requires being near them.
“We speak of fear as an emotion. But actually it operates more like a reflex action with immediate physiological effect. Muscles tense up and contract involuntarily, often increasing pressure on damages nerves and causing more pain...” Humans seem especially affected by fears. A person who fears needles, also feels more pain from a shot than a diabetic who uses shots on a daily basis.
Pain is supposed to teach us to listen. It is a tool for us to understand its source. Life will always include fear. Our choice is to fear God or to fear everything else. Is God a trustworthy physician? It is a critical question for people to consider.
Availability is the best offering we can make to those who are suffering. Our words and insight do not offer nearly as much as being with someone. Further, someone who is suffering will likely want the same type of relationship and friendship that existed before sickness or suffering. Everything else has changed, so the familiarity is comforting. Further, strangers are unlikely to become friends in sickness; people return—or try to return—to the relationships they had before.
The perception of helplessness changes people’s physiology. A rat dropped in water will swim for up to sixty hours struggling to survive. A rat that’s held until it ceases straggling before being dropped in the water will sink and die. Similarly, if people believe they are helpless, they just give up. Not being able to shop for groceries or balancing the checkbook or even going out due to a compromised immune system will thrust people into helplessness.
The French saying, “to suffer passes; to have suffered never passes” is an important reminder for how we think of ministry. Too often we think that helping is a one-way action to reach someone in need. If Person A has previously suffered and uses the commonality of pain to reach Person B, then the act of Person A serving through the pain can drive away that person’s own sorrow through service. A suffering person suffers least after learning to look outward to serve instead of inward in pity.
Society gives different degrees of value to different types of pain. Yet the key to loving well is to acknowledge that pain is valid and worthy of sympathy. If Christians respond with anything that prompts guilt, then we are not loving well—even with good intentions. Suffering without meaning produces despair. But this need for meaning does not mean that those who are counselors to sufferers are in a position to offer or explain that meaning. Sometimes the best we can offer is a word of thanks for being willing to share pain and then affirming the hurt and fear that can accompany suffering. As Paul observed, “rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with those who weep.”
I too often give the refrain that it is a shortcoming of our society that we too seldom ask the big questions or spend time wrestling with philosophy. So it is perhaps no surprise that I found it interesting to read a book on pain, its purpose, and the ways we think about pain. As I mentioned above, I think Yancey’s book is valuable for anyone who has wrangled with how to think about suffering. The book seemed particularly timely while in quarantine, but I think its relevancy is true at all times. I recommend Where is God When It Hurts? and will look to read other books by Philip Yancey.
