Some thoughts and quotations relevant to suffering

Suffering is a common experience in life. My sister recently died, and I have been experiencing the suffering or pain of grief. 

My brother-in-law and brother with Jennell about an hour before she died

Philosophers who have examined the theological implications of suffering have divided suffering into different categories, such as suffering caused by non-human sources and the suffering caused by the behavior of persons. 

The non-human causes of suffering are sometimes described as “natural evil” and many people take the problem of natural evil as a powerful reason to be atheistic or else conceive of God as something that is either not especially loving and kind or else not all-powerful. Consider the suffering caused by natural things; the loss of children in miscarriages, death from diseases, the torment of parasites, the mass misery caused by earthquakes, floods, fires, and storms that result in great loss of life, destruction, and famine.  Consider plagues, asteroids smashing into planets and wiping out civilizations, or volcanos and tsunamis wiping out hundreds of thousands of lives.  Contemplate these sorts of things.  A common argument is that if God is all-powerful and also loving and benevolent, God would not permit a reality in which so much suffering was built into the creation; thus God must either not be all powerful, or else not actually loving and benevolent, or else God must not exist.  This is one point of view. I don't share this point of view exactly, as I think God's benevolence and love may not be held in a personal relationship with each of us as if God was a person other than us who cared for us as a human friend would care. And, I also think God's love and benevolence is not directed towards our personal safety, comfort, or physical well-being, at least not generally.  There are other aspects of our existence that may be more deserving objects of God's benevolence and love.

Then there is the suffering caused by people; the way we harm and torment each other; the suffering we inflict on others. Wars, prejudices, injustices, unfair and unjust systems where no one can trust others. This is generally considered less of a theological problem.  Usually the issue is resolved by suggesting that God cares very much about human free will.  For example, God does not become manifested in such an obvious way that everyone must believe in God, and thus God must clearly value doubt and faith and the freedom for people to reject God and not believe in God, which suggests free will and autonomy must be an extremely high priority in this created world. It would follow that God also allows people to choose evil behavior; God allows people to engage in terrible activities that cause suffering.  Again, the ability of people to choose their course in life, choose between good and evil, and grow toward perfection or better actions in this life seems to matter more than just having people avoid suffering. So, human evil and its brutal manifestations in rape, genocide, war, violence, exploitive unfair systems, and so forth is understood as a natural outcome of the importance of free will and the ability of humans to make moral choices. 

I think another category of suffering is caused by loss, change, the passage of time, and separation.  Since persons who die generally do not communicate with those who are living, humans often suffer grief as everyone they know eventually dies.  This theme of suffering caused by the human desire to maintain contact with those whom we love, and the suffering of unrequited love, or the death of a loved one, is an issue addressed in modern Buddhism, where basic teachings of the faith concern the problem of human suffering, and ways to end suffering by embracing less attachment to things-as-they-are and increasing acceptance of change.  The impermanence of the created reality we perceive with our senses compared to the allegedly better world of supernatural or spiritual reality is a common theme in religions, and is sometimes described as the “otherworldly” or “mystic” branch of religion.

Another frequent theme of religion in addressing all varieties of suffering is the idea that suffering is good for us.  By experiencing suffering, we are forced to turn to spiritual truth.  By experiencing suffering, we can prove our worthiness by our steadfastness in the face of suffering. By experiencing suffering, we can appreciate and give thanks for the times and ways of living in which we do not suffer.

In the Jewish and Christian traditions, the story of Job, who lost everything, and remained faithful to God despite all his losses, is a sort of symbolic illustration story about the importance of remaining faithful and good. Like Job, we must be faithful and good simply because that is the way humans ought to live, and not because we are thankful for our blessings or hopeful of help when we are experiencing suffering.

Suffering is good for us

The early Baha'i theologian and leader in the early Baha'i Faith, Abú’l-Fadl Gulpaygání had something to say about suffering.  In October of 1900, Abú’l-Fadl Gulpaygání sent a letter in which these words were written: 

The will of God has decreed that the new souls be subjected to the trials of uncertainty, that the bad may be distinguished from the good and imposture from sincerity. Thus may truth be known from falsehood and steadfastness from inconstancy.

My friend, you well recognize the principle of testing and purification that has been revealed in all the holy books and decreed in the divine promises inscribed in celestial scriptures. Refer to Daniel Chapter 12. Thus may you know how God tests souls to distinguish the pure and genuine from the false and wretched.

The first verse of the 12th chapter of Daniel:

At that time, Michael, the great prince who protects your people, will arise. There will be a Time of distress such as has not happened from the beginning of nations until then. But at that time your people—everyone whose name is found written in the book—will be delivered.

Expressions of Grief

Fatima Munírih Khánum (The wife of ‘Abdu’l-Baha) wrote some letters of lament after the passing of her husband and her sister-in-law that are especially poignant.  Here are some excerpts from her letter of lament from a year after the passing of ‘Abdu’l-Baha (He died shortly after midnight on November 29th, 1921) as translated by Sammireh Anwar Smith.

From a letter of late November 1922:

O my Lord, O my Lord. Forsake me not, for troubles have encompassed me on all sides. Lord! Lord! Leave me not to myself, for misfortunes have seized me and assailed me….

…O kind and loving Master: for fifty years You fed us from the breast of mercy. At every morn You would call all to gather, and You would even instruct us to ‘wake the small children and, after breakfast, read the prayers and Tablets.” Cast Your glance of favor upon this poor, sorrow-stricken family from that other world, from [paradise]. Look down upon these leaves scattered in many lands and regions. Each one is in a different place and subjected to severe afflictions. 

Should I wish to describe fully this miserable year, and that midnight thunderbolt, I would need seventy reams of paper, and seas of blood would pour from all eyes….

…My home is in ruins, its foundations destroyed; 

I am caught in the talons of the eagle of sorrow….

…Lord, Lord, Thou sees and knows that these grieving hearts have lost all patience and strength. The thin thread of endurance is breaking. Resolution and tenacity have come to an end…

….God willing, this storm of sorrows will abate a little, this buffeted ship will reach the shore, and the light of the morn of hope will dawn.

That pure and holy, divine, benign, and benevolent Soul could never accept to see even one person sorrowful, and He did not wish that anyone should grieve. He would say, “I cannot bear to look upon a sorrowful face.” He was the follow-sufferer of all humanity and was loving to all on earth. When He spoke, it was usually with smiles and happiness.  He would inquire after children. He desired that all should be cheerful and joyous. He would say, “Children are the inhabitants of the Kingdom. They are always happy and cheerful.”…

But I must not pierce the hearts of the devoted ones any longer, or rub salt into the wounds of the sorrowing.

O our Lord, do not inflict upon us that which we cannot bear. Have mercy upon us through Thy generosity and bounty….

In the letter of lament you can see how the widow Fatima Munírih Khánum begins with hyperbolical description of seas of blood pouring from eyes, but as she continues, she reflects on the importance of finding joy and happiness, and seems to recognize that one can lament too much.

Suffering and life described in letters written by ‘Abdu’l-Baha. 

In one letter, ‘Abdu’l-Baha wrote:

O thou seeker of the Kingdom! Thy letter was received. Thou hast written of the severe calamity that hath befallen thee—the death of thy respected husband. That honourable man hath been so subjected to the stress and strain of this world that his greatest wish was for deliverance from it. Such is this mortal abode: a storehouse of afflictions and suffering. It is ignorance that binds man to it, for no comfort can be secured by any soul in this world, from monarch down to the most humble commoner. If once this life should offer a man a sweet cup, a hundred bitter ones will follow; such is the condition of this world. The wise man, therefore, doth not attach himself to this mortal life and doth not depend upon it; at some moments, even, he eagerly wisheth for death that he may thereby be freed from these sorrows and afflictions. Thus it is seen that some, under extreme pressure of anguish, have committed suicide. …

In another, ‘Abdu’l-Baha wrote:

O thou beloved maidservant of God, although the loss of a son is indeed heart-breaking and beyond the limits of human endurance, yet one who knoweth and understandeth is assured that the son hath not been lost but, rather, hath stepped from this world into another, and she will find him in the divine realm. That reunion shall be for eternity, while in this world separation is inevitable and bringeth with it a burning grief.

Praise be unto God that thou hast faith, art turning thy face toward the everlasting Kingdom and believest in the existence of a heavenly world. Therefore be thou not disconsolate, do not languish, do not sigh, neither wail nor weep; for agitation and mourning deeply affect his soul in the divine realm.

That beloved child addresseth thee from the hidden world: ‘O thou kind Mother, thank divine Providence that I have been freed from a small and gloomy cage and, like the birds of the meadows, have soared to the divine world—a world which is spacious, illumined, and ever gay and jubilant. Therefore, lament not, O Mother, and be not grieved; I am not of the lost, nor have I been obliterated and destroyed. I have shaken off the mortal form and have raised my banner in this spiritual world. Following this separation is everlasting companionship. Thou shalt find me in the heaven of the Lord, immersed in an ocean of light.

And, in another letter to grieving parents, ‘Abdu’l-Baha wrote, in part:

O ye two patient souls! Your letter was received. The death of that beloved youth and his separation from you have caused the utmost sorrow and grief; for he winged his flight in the flower of his age and the bloom of his youth to the heavenly nest. But he hath been freed from this sorrow-stricken shelter and hath turned his face toward the everlasting nest of the Kingdom, and, being delivered from a dark and narrow world, hath hastened to the sanctified realm of light; therein lieth the consolation of our hearts.

The inscrutable divine wisdom underlieth such heart-rending occurrences. It is as if a kind gardener transferreth a fresh and tender shrub from a confined place to a wide open area. This transfer is not the cause of the withering, the lessening or the destruction of that shrub; nay, on the contrary, it maketh it to grow and thrive, acquire freshness and delicacy, become green and bear fruit. This hidden secret is well known to the gardener, but those souls who are unaware of this bounty suppose that the gardener, in his anger and wrath, hath uprooted the shrub….

Suffering and life addressed in old English folk songs.

One of my favorite songs is the Unquiet Grave (Child #78).  Some folklorists believe the song may date to the 1600s, but songs like it in which excessive grief disturbs the dead can be found as far back as the 1500s.  The lesson is: do not be excessively disturbed by the pain of separation from the dead:

Cold blows the wind over my true love,
Cold are the drops of rain.
I never had but one true love,
In the greenwood he was slain.

But I’ll do as much for my true love
As any young girl may
I’ll sit and weep down by his grave
For twelve months and a day.

But when twelve months were come and gone
This young man he arose,
“What makes you weep, down by my grave?
I can't take my repose”

“One kiss, one kiss from your lily-white lips
One kiss is all I crave
One kiss, one kiss of your lily-white lips
And return back to your grave.”

“My lips they are as cold as clay
My breath is heavy and strong
If thou was to kiss my clay-cold lips
Thy days would not be long.”

“Do you remember the garden gate,
Where we was used to walk,
Pluck the finest flower of them all,
'twill whither to a stalk.”

“My time be long, my time be short
Tomorrow or today
Sweet Jesus Christ will have my soul
And bear my life away”

“Don't grieve, don't grieve for me, True Love,
No mourning do I crave,
I must leave you, and all the world,
And sink down in my grave.”


These are the lyrics used by Wilfred Brown and John Williams in their 1961 album Folk Songs. Another version sung by Jean Ritchie in the style of Appalachian traditional folk music is also quite good.

Another song about grief calling the dead back into the world of the living probably originates in Scotland, and it is known as The Wife of Usher’s Well. (Child #79). In this version, a grieving mother gives up her faith in God because her grief for three lost sons is so deep, but the sons are allowed to return, and Jesus performs a miracle (a roasted and dead bird crows from the dish where he is being served as a meal), and the dead and living all lament the fact that the dead are kept apart from the living.


There lived a lady in merry Scotland,
And she had sons all three,
And she sent them away into merry England,
To learn some English deeds.

They had not been in merry England
For twelve months and one day,
When the news came back to their own mother dear,
Their bodies were in cold clay.

“I will not believe in God,” she said,
“Nor Christ in eternity,
Till They send me back my own three sons,
The same as they went from me.”

Old Christmas time was drawing near,
When the nights are dark and long,
This mother’s own three sons came home,
Walking by the light of the moon.

And as soon as they reached to their own mother’s gate,
So loud at the bell they ring,
There’s none so ready as their own mother dear
To loose these children in.

The cloth was spread, the meat put on;
“No meat, Lord, can we take;
It’s been so long and so many a day
Since you our dinner did make.”

The bed was made, the sheets put on;
“No rest, Lord, can we take;
It’s been so long and so many a day
Since you our bed did make.”

Then Christ did call for the roasted cock,
Feathered with His holy hands,
He crowed three times all in the dish,
In the place where he did stand.

He crowed three times all in the dish,
Set at the table head,
“And isn’t it a pity,” they all did say,
“The quick should part from the dead.

“So farewell stick, farewell stone,
Farewell to the maidens all,
Farewell to the nurse that gave us suck,”
And down the tears did fall.

These are the lyrics used by Mrs. Loveridge in Herefordshire in 1908 when Ralph Vaughan Williams collected her version of this song, “There Lived a Lady in Merry Scotland”.

My last view of my sister.  My brother-in-law says his final farewell.

My grief.

the loss of my younger sister is a harder death than the deaths of my father, step-father, or any of my grandparents, or my uncle.  She was younger than I, and I can remember her kicking from inside our mother’s womb. This grief is possibly even worse than the sadness that I still feel from the loss of our third child in a miscarriage back in 2007. It is horrible.  But, I notice that it's possible to feel happy and sad at the same time.  I do not think sadness and joy are two ends of a continuum.  I think, rather, that sadness and happiness can coexist, and they may have an inverse correlation, where we usually feel one feeling strongly and the other feeling is diminished, but I do think you can feel both joy and sorrow simultaneously, which is what I am feeling. Today, exactly three weeks after Jennell’s death, I very nearly cried again, and I have cried earlier this week.  I usually don't feel like crying when people die, but with Jennell, I have been weeping and sobbing a lot. But that sort of feeling has diminished.  In my family I was socialized to continue living and feeling positive in the face of death, and I have done that, but done so without denying the suffering of grief.

I think Jack Kornfield, the Buddhist and Psychologist who offers many lectures on wisdom and Buddhism, once said that pain is inevitable, but suffering is optional.  His point was that life is going to throw evil at us, and we are going to be in pain.  However, there are ways of accepting pain and sorrow and grief where we do not feel full of misery.  This is an attitude I strive for.  I will not deny the pain.  I will not refuse to suffer.  But, I will not become miserable in the face of the pain and suffering. I will continue to feel happiness, and sometimes joy.