Epigraph
We shall certainly test you with fear and hunger, and loss of property, lives, and crops. But [Prophet], give good news to those who are steadfast, those who say, when afflicted with a calamity, ‘We belong to God and to Him we shall return.’ These will be given blessings and mercy from their Lord, and it is they who are rightly guided. (Al Quran 2:155-157)

Written and collected by Zia H Shah MD, Chief Editor of the Muslim Times
Introduction
Suffering – the experience of pain, hardship, and loss – is a universal human reality that raises profound theological questions. All three Abrahamic faiths wrestle with the classic “problem of evil”: if God is all-powerful and wholly good, why does He allow humans to suffer? Each tradition offers its own answers (theodicies) to reconcile God’s justice and benevolence with the existence of evil. These answers are not merely abstract: they shape how believers find meaning in trials and how they respond to tragedy. In this article, we will explore Jewish, Christian, and Islamic perspectives on suffering – examining key scriptures (Torah, Bible, Qur’an) and interpretations by influential scholars. We will see that across these faiths, suffering has been explained as divine justice (punishment for sin), as a test of faith or a means of spiritual growth, and as ultimately guided by a higher wisdom beyond full human understanding. Each tradition will be addressed in turn, highlighting both unique approaches (such as the role of Jesus’ suffering in Christianity) and common themes (like the value of free will and the hope of eventual justice).
Jewish Perspective
Scriptural Foundations: In Jewish scripture, suffering is often linked to the covenantal principle of reward and punishment. The Torah repeatedly suggests that obedience to God brings blessings, while disobedience brings suffering. For example, the book of Deuteronomy describes prosperity for Israel if they follow God’s laws and calamity if they abandon them. Early on, suffering is thus seen as just retribution – a consequence of sin on either the individual or community level. The biblical narrative of the very first sin illustrates this: Adam and Eve eat the forbidden fruit and are punished with hard labor, pain in childbirth, and mortality. This story provides an archetype of suffering as a direct result of human wrongdoing. Yet the Hebrew Bible also pointedly raises the issue of innocent suffering. The quintessential example is the Book of Job, which is “dedicated to this problem.”
Job is a righteous man who endures terrible losses and disease for no apparent sin. His friends insist suffering must mean divine punishment, but Job protests his innocence and questions why God allows the righteous to suffer. In the end, God answers Job out of a whirlwind, not with a tidy explanation, but by emphasizing the vast mysteries of creation beyond Job’s understanding. The lesson implied is one of humility: humans cannot always grasp God’s reasons. As Job learns, “finite minds can’t possibly understand the ways of God.”
The Hebrew prophets likewise sometimes struggled with the prosperity of the wicked and the pain of the just (Jeremiah 12:1, Habakkuk 1:13). This biblical foundation sets up the central question in Jewish theodicy: Why do bad things happen to good people? and vice versa.
Rabbinic Reflections: Post-biblical Jewish literature, especially the Talmud, continues this exploration. Notably, the rabbis often caution against simplistic answers. Pirkei Avot (Ethics of the Fathers) records Rabbi Yannai’s saying: “It is not in our power to explain either the well-being of the wicked or the sufferings of the righteous.”
In other words, one should not presume to fully know why God permits a particular person to suffer – an echo of Job’s lesson. Instead of theoretical explanations, rabbinic texts frequently emphasize our response to suffering. A famous Talmudic tale features Rabbi Akiva, a 2nd-century sage known for his optimism and faith. The Talmud relates that Rabbi Akiva taught “One must always accustom oneself to say: Everything that God does, He does for the best.”
In a story, Akiva is refused lodging in a town and then loses his donkey, rooster, and lamp while camping outside. He still repeats “All that God does is for good,” and by morning he discovers that a marauding band attacked the town – his misfortunes actually kept him safe. This attitude reflects a Jewish view that even if we cannot see it immediately, suffering may serve a hidden good purpose in God’s plan. Likewise, when Rabbi Akiva was tortured by the Romans at the end of his life, he found spiritual meaning in the ordeal – using it as an opportunity to fulfill the command to “love God with all your soul” (even to one’s last breath). Such stories underscore an ideal of emunah (faithful trust) under trial. At the same time, the Talmud does acknowledge moral causes for suffering: “If a person sees that he is suffering, he should examine his actions” and repent of any wrongdoing, one passage advises (Berakhot 5a). Suffering can prompt self-reflection and growth. But if no personal sin is found, the Talmud entertains that one’s suffering might be “yissurin shel ahavah” – chastisements of love. In this view, God may afflict someone not as punishment, but as a fatherly discipline or purification aimed at that person’s ultimate benefit. As one Talmudic sage explains, “he whom He loves, God chastises” – these afflictions, accepted with love, atone for minor sins or increase one’s reward in the hereafter. Thus, rabbinic Judaism developed multiple approaches: sometimes suffering is a direct consequence of sin (and a call to repent), other times it is a test of one’s devotion or a means to refine the soul of the righteous. And often, the rabbis simply counsel to trust God’s goodness and persist in doing good, even without an answer – encapsulated by Rabbi Akiva’s mantra of trust.
Classical Theodicies in Judaism: Medieval Jewish thinkers continued to grapple with these themes, often blending theology with philosophy. One common response was to extend the calculus of divine justice into the afterlife. Since observable reality doesn’t always reflect just reward and punishment (the wicked may prosper now, the righteous suffer), the idea developed that God’s justice is fulfilled in Olam Ha-Ba (the World to Come). For instance, a Talmudic solution suggests that a righteous person who suffers in this world will be repaid in the next, and a wicked person who prospers here will face judgment after death. In this way, no suffering of the innocent is “wasted” – it either atones for that soul or elevates their eternal reward. Some kabbalistic (mystical) teachings even introduced reincarnation as an explanation: a soul might suffer in a later life for sins of a previous life, thus upholding justice beyond one lifetime. Another influential approach came from Jewish philosophers like Saadiah Gaon and Moses Maimonides. Saadiah (10th century) taught that what appears as evil may actually be for our ultimate good – a bit of a reframing of suffering as medicinal or beneficial, administered by God for righteous reasons. Maimonides (12th century) went further in a philosophical direction by essentially denying the reality of evil as a positive force. In The Guide for the Perplexed, Maimonides argues that evil is a privation – a lack or absence of good, rather than a substantive thing willed by God. Much of the suffering in the world, he says, comes from human ignorance, bad choices, and social ills, or from the inherent imperfections of the material world, not from God directly willing to hurt anyone. “Things that appear to be evil” result from a lack of human perfection (such as lack of wisdom leading to folly that causes pain). In this view, God’s creation in itself is good; evil is what happens when something good is missing. Maimonides’ stance, like that of the Christian Augustine (whom he in some ways mirrors), gets God “off the hook” philosophically by asserting God only creates good – it’s the absence of God’s goodness (through human sin or nature’s limits) that yields suffering. However, as the Guide acknowledges, such an abstract answer “will probably do little to comfort a sufferer.”
For ordinary believers, more concrete assurances are found in ideas like divine compassion and the hope that God ultimately rectifies injustices. Indeed, later Jewish thought (especially after traumatic events like the Holocaust) has revisited the problem of suffering in new ways. Some modern Jewish theologians (e.g. R. Eliezer Berkovits) emphasize human free will – that God respects human freedom so much that He allows even great evils like the Holocaust, though He weeps at our misuse of that freedom. Others, like Ignaz Maybaum, saw the Jews’ collective suffering as having a vicarious purpose, likening Israel to the “suffering servant” of Isaiah 53 who suffers for the moral redemption of the world. Still others, shattered by events like the Holocaust, argued that traditional theodicies no longer suffice – leading to bold rethinking (e.g. Richard Rubenstein’s radical idea that after Auschwitz, the old covenantal theology is void). By and large, however, mainstream Jewish responses still draw on the classical motifs we’ve outlined: Divine justice, whether executed now or later; tests of faith and opportunities for growth; suffering as discipline or atonement; and the mystery of God’s plan which humans must meet with faith and righteous action, if not full comprehension. As Rabbi David Hartman observed, Judaism often shifts the focus from explaining suffering to responding to it – by doing mitzvot (good deeds), comforting the afflicted, and sanctifying life despite pain. In sum, Jewish tradition offers a spectrum of theodicies while also allowing space for faithful protest (as in the Book of Job or some Holocaust theologians). Through it all runs a strong ethical imperative: since we cannot fully know God’s reasons, our task is not to blame God but to alleviate suffering where we can, and to endure with trust and integrity where we cannot.
Christian Perspective
Biblical Teachings on Suffering: Christianity inherited the Hebrew Bible’s perspectives on suffering and also added new dimensions through the life and teachings of Jesus and the New Testament writers. The Old Testament provides many narratives of suffering as a consequence of sin – from the Fall of Adam and Eve, to the sufferings of Israel when they broke God’s covenant. The Fall narrative in Genesis in particular became foundational for Christian theology: Paul in the New Testament writes “through one man [Adam] sin entered the world, and death through sin, and so death spread to all men” (Romans 5:12). In Christian understanding, original sin is the root of human suffering – the idea that humanity’s sinful nature, originating with the first humans, brought moral evil and even natural evils into God’s originally good creation. This gave rise to the doctrine that all human beings inherit a fallen condition, which makes suffering and death the default state of earthly life. Suffering is thus tied to the brokenness of creation after the Fall. However, the Bible also emphasizes that God in His mercy seeks to redeem humanity from this state. Much of biblical history, from the trials of Job to the exodus from Egypt, shows God ultimately caring for the afflicted and opposing oppression – even if His reasons for allowing interim suffering are sometimes inscrutable (as with Job). In the New Testament, Jesus directly addresses the question of undeserved suffering on several occasions. For example, when asked about a man born blind, Jesus said it was not due to the man’s sin or his parents’, “but that the works of God might be displayed in him” (John 9:3). And regarding a tower collapse that killed eighteen people, Jesus cautioned against assuming they were worse sinners, instead urging listeners to repent themselves (Luke 13:1–5). These teachings shift focus from assigning blame to seeking moral reform and seeing God’s glory emerge from tragedy. The New Testament writers also offer a pastoral theodicy: they encourage believers that suffering can have a positive purpose under God’s providence. “Suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope,” writes Paul, suggesting that trials can refine the soul (soul-making). The Epistle of James likewise says to “count it all joy” when facing trials because testing of faith produces perseverance and maturity (James 1:2–4). The Letter to the Hebrews frames hardships as divine discipline given “for our good, that we may share His holiness,” stating, “the Lord disciplines the one He loves, and chastises every son whom He receives” (Hebrews 12:6,10) – a direct echo of the idea from Proverbs also found in Jewish thought. These passages develop a view of suffering as educative or redemptive: it is not that God enjoys our pain, but like a loving parent or skilled coach, He may allow hardships to train and purify us. The Apostle Peter, addressing persecuted Christians, writes that their trials refine their faith like fire refines gold (1 Peter 1:6–7) and urges them to rejoice insofar as they share in Christ’s sufferings, for it will lead to greater joy when His glory is revealed (1 Peter 4:13). In sum, the Bible provides multiple angles: suffering as punishment for sin (the justice of God), suffering as a test or refinement (the love and pedagogy of God), and suffering as a mystery to be met with trust (as in Job). Crucially, hope in God’s ultimate deliverance undergirds all of these. The Bible ends in Revelation with a promise that God “will wipe away every tear… there shall be no more death or mourning or pain” in the new creation (Rev 21:4), affirming that present sufferings are temporary and will be overcome by God’s final victory over evil.
Classical Christian Theodicies: Christian theologians in history built on these biblical themes to formulate systematic theodicies. Two major streams of thought are often highlighted: the Augustinian and Irenaean approaches. St. Augustine (4th–5th century) greatly influenced Western Christianity’s view of evil. Like Maimonides later, Augustine defined evil as not a substance but a privation of good – the absence of goodness where it ought to be. He taught that God, being all-good, did not create evil; rather, evil came about through the misuse of creaturely free will. In Augustine’s theology, God gave angels and humans genuine free will, which is good in itself, but this freedom included the possibility of choosing sin. When angels (like Lucifer) and humans (Adam and Eve) chose self over God, they fell from the good, and that lack of goodness is what we experience as evil (moral wickedness, disorder, suffering). Thus, moral evil is the result of free will – “the inevitable result of human freedom” – and even natural evils (disease, disasters) Augustine linked to the disturbance of creation caused by the Fall of man. God is not the author of evil; human free choices are. Why then did God give free will if it would lead to so much suffering? Augustine’s answer was that free will is a supreme good because it allows for love and virtue. A world with free beings is better than a hypothetical world of automata with no evil. God deemed it “better to bring good out of evil, than not to permit any evil to exist.”
In fact, Augustine and many after him argued that God in His omnipotence redeems suffering by bringing about a greater good that couldn’t exist without the evil. As Augustine famously wrote: “God judged it better to bring good out of evil than to suffer no evil to exist.” For example, forgiveness is a great good that by definition can only exist if there is sin to forgive; courage can only exist if there are dangers and fears to overcome. This idea that some virtues or “higher-order goods” necessitate the allowance of some evils is a cornerstone of the greater-good defense in Christian thought. St. Thomas Aquinas (13th century) echoed Augustine: “As God is supremely good, He would nowise allow any evil to be done, unless He could draw some good from every evil.” In other words, every instance of permitted evil is woven into God’s providence for a greater plan. One classic illustration is the “felix culpa” or “happy fault” concept from the Easter liturgy, which suggests that Adam’s fall, lamentable as it was, occasioned the coming of Christ and the redemption of humanity – a more wondrous work of God than if no one had ever fallen. This doesn’t trivialize the horror of sin and suffering, but it insists that God’s grace is greater and can transform tragedy into triumph (as epitomized by the Crucifixion leading to Resurrection). On the other hand, the Irenaean approach (attributed to St. Irenaeus of Lyons, 2nd century) sees evil and suffering more as a necessary part of the process of soul-making or spiritual growth. Irenaeus suggested that humanity was created in an immature state – in the “image” of God with the potential for moral perfection, but needing to grow into God’s “likeness” through experience. For souls to mature, God placed humans at an “epistemic distance” – His presence not overwhelmingly obvious – so that they could freely learn, make choices, and develop virtues. In this view, suffering and difficulties are indispensable for developing qualities like compassion, courage, faith, and resilience. “To achieve moral perfection,” Irenaeus argued, “humans must have free will… [and] must experience suffering” to cultivate that likeness of God. Twentieth-century theologian John Hick built on this to formulate the “vale of soul-making” theodicy, positing that the world with all its challenges is designed for the higher goal of shaping saints and sons/daughters of God. According to this view, a world with no pain would be like a nursery that produces spoiled, shallow creatures; instead God allows hardships so that humans can grow into mature spiritual beings – a process completed in the afterlife. Both Augustinian (free-will and greater-good) and Irenaean (soul-making) theodicies are influential in Christian thought, and many theologians combine elements of both. For example, C.S. Lewis famously described pain as “God’s megaphone” to rouse a deaf world – a necessary alarm to draw us away from vanity and self-sufficiency and toward repentance and faith. At the same time, Lewis affirmed that much evil comes from human free choices (which God permits for the sake of our freedom and capacity to love). Another thread in Christian theology is the penal view – that some suffering is divine punishment or chastisement for sin, in line with the covenantal warnings. The medieval mindset often interpreted plagues or disasters as God’s judgement for collective sin (though not uniformly – there were always debates, as in the story of Job). The Bible does supply examples of punitive suffering (e.g. the Babylonian exile as punishment for Israel’s infidelity). However, Christianity generally tempers this with the teaching that all humans are sinners (so one cannot simplistically say “those people suffered because they’re worse”). Jesus warned against self-righteous attributions of others’ misfortunes (Luke 13:2–5) and instead pointed to everyone’s need for grace. Eternal perspective is also key: like Judaism, Christianity affirms an afterlife where injustices are rectified. Unjust suffering now will be repaid by God’s perfect justice later – if not in this life, then on Judgment Day. As the Gospel Coalition summarizes, the Bible combines “the ways of theodicy and inscrutability”: God aims at great goods through evils, yet often leaves us “in the dark” about the specific reasons, asking us to trust Him.
The Suffering and Redemption of Christ: A unique and central element of Christian perspective on suffering is the life and death of Jesus Christ. Christianity proclaims that God personally entered into human suffering through Jesus’ incarnation and crucifixion. Rather than remaining a distant observer of human misery, God the Son took on flesh and experienced hunger, grief, rejection, torture, and death. This has profound implications for the Christian theodicy. First, Jesus’ suffering is seen as redemptive – it had a salvific purpose. According to Christian doctrine, Jesus was the innocent righteous one who suffered voluntarily “for us” to atone for the sins of humanity. Through the cross, God turned the greatest evil – the unjust execution of His Son – into the greatest good: the redemption of the world. In that sense, the crucifixion is the ultimate example of God bringing an immense good out of apparent evil, vindicating the greater-good theodicy in a dramatic fashion. As one Catholic writer put it, “On Calvary, Christ used suffering as the instrument by which He won for us the grace of redemption. By doing this, He has sanctified human suffering for all time.” In Christian understanding, Jesus “took suffering upon himself and changed it from an evil to a good.”
By enduring the worst agony (physically and spiritually) and then rising from the dead, Christ broke the power of evil and death. This core event assures believers that God has ultimately defeated evil, even if it’s not yet eliminated from our earthly experience. Second, Christ’s example gives personal meaning to a Christian’s own suffering. Believers are encouraged to “take up their cross” (Matthew 16:24) and follow Jesus – i.e. to unite their sufferings with His. This doesn’t mean seeking pain, but when suffering is unavoidable, it can be consciously offered in solidarity with Christ’s passion. In Catholic theology especially, there is the concept of “offering up” suffering in union with Jesus, believing it can mysteriously participate in the redemptive work (as Paul hints in Colossians 1:24). The idea of redemptive suffering is that just as Christ’s pain had purpose, the sufferings of Christians can have spiritual value for themselves and others if borne with faith and love. This is seen as part of the believer’s sanctification and service. Notably, this perspective transforms the emotional experience of suffering: rather than seeing it solely as something to escape or despair over, many Christians through history (martyrs, saints, etc.) found in their hardships an intimate closeness to Christ. For “we do not have a High Priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses” (Hebrews 4:15); Jesus understands our pain. Thus, while Christianity grapples intellectually with why God permits evil, it uniquely emphasizes that God joined us in our suffering and “will never leave nor forsake” His people even in the valley of sorrow. That assurance of God’s empathetic presence is as crucial as any logical theodicy. In summary, Christian thought offers multiple layers in addressing suffering: it traces much suffering to human free will and sin (thus preserving God’s righteousness), it posits that God can use suffering for greater goods like character formation or awakening conscience, it holds the hope of ultimate justice and restoration in the world to come, and centrally, it finds in Jesus’ suffering and resurrection both the answer to evil and the strength to endure suffering with hope. As a result, Christians are taught to respond to suffering with trust in God’s love, active love for others (following Christ’s example of compassion), and hope that “the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed” (Romans 8:18).
Islamic Perspective
Qur’anic View of Suffering: In Islam, the problem of suffering is framed within the context of tawhid (God’s oneness and sovereignty) and the belief that earthly life is a temporary test preceding the eternal life. The Qur’an explicitly teaches that this world, by God’s design, contains trials meant to distinguish and develop us. “We will certainly test you with a touch of fear and hunger and loss of property, life, and crops. Give good news to those who patiently endure.” (Qur’an 2:155). In this oft-quoted verse, God prepares the believers to expect hardships – hunger, fear, loss – as tests of faith and character, and commends sabr (patience). Another verse states, “Do people think they will be left to say, ‘We believe,’ without being tested?” (Qur’an 29:2). This concept of trial (ibtila’) is fundamental: suffering is not a meaningless accident but part of the spiritual examination every soul undergoes. The Quran further consoles that such tests are not beyond one’s capacity: “Allah does not burden a soul beyond that it can bear.” (Qur’an 2:286). This assures believers that whatever difficulties they face, with God’s help they are capable of handling them – God’s justice would not allow an unfair, impossible test. The Qur’an also emphasizes God’s mercy amid trials: “Indeed, with hardship comes ease. Indeed, with hardship comes ease.” (94:5–6). This repeated verse is understood to mean that no hardship is ever pure hardship; Allah always provides relief or reward to offset it, whether in this life or the next. Many Qur’anic stories illustrate righteous individuals being tested: Prophet Ayyub (Job) is a prime example, known in Islamic tradition for his exemplary patience. The Qur’an describes Ayyub’s afflictions and how he remained faithful, finally rewarded by God for his steadfastness (Qur’an 21:83–84). Other prophets – from Ya’qub (Jacob) weeping for Yusuf, to the trials of Musa (Moses) and Isa (Jesus) – all endured suffering as part of their mission, ultimately vindicated by God. Thus, the Qur’an sets a narrative in which suffering is often a sign of God’s love and a pathway to higher spiritual status, rather than a punishment for the lack of it. This is encapsulated in a saying of the Prophet Muhammad: “If Allah loves a people, He tests them.”
Hadith and Scholars on Wisdom of Trials: The hadith literature (sayings of Prophet Muhammad and narratives about his life) further elaborates the role of suffering. The Prophet Muhammad – who himself suffered hunger, loss of children, persecution, and illness – taught his followers how to view these hardships. He said, “The most severely tested people are the prophets, then those nearest to them in piety, then those next,” indicating that those of highest faith often endure the hardest trials. “A man is tested according to the level of his religion,” he continued – if one’s faith is strong, the tests increase in intensity, “and [Allah’s] servant will continue to be tested until he walks on the earth without any sin.”
This remarkable statement conveys two things: (1) great suffering can be a sign of one’s lofty rank in God’s eyes (since God tests the righteous, not just the sinful), and (2) suffering has an expiatory function – it purifies the believer from sins. Islam strongly promotes the idea that every pain or distress a believer endures, even the prick of a thorn, atones for some of their misdeeds. Through patience and faith, the burden of sin is lifted, so that the person meets God in a state of greater purity. This is akin to the Jewish “sufferings of love” concept and the Christian notion of disciplinary suffering – reflecting a shared intuition across faiths. The Prophet also said: “Wonderful is the situation of the believer! … If good befalls him, he is thankful… if harm afflicts him, he is patient, and that is good for him.”
In Islam, both prosperity and adversity can be spiritually beneficial: prosperity is a test of gratitude, adversity a test of patience. Either way, the believer can earn reward. Patience (sabr) in trials is considered one of the greatest virtues, repeatedly urged by the Quran. Another hadith states that on the Day of Judgment, those who suffered greatly on earth will be given such immense reward and bliss in Paradise that, seeing it, they will say they never suffered at all (hadith in Sahih Muslim). This ties into the core Islamic belief that the afterlife will compensate for every injustice and pain of this world. In Islamic creed, ultimate justice is deferred to Yawm ad-Din (the Day of Judgment). The Qur’an frequently describes the afterlife as the place where wrongs are righted and each soul receives its due without the slightest injustice (Qur’an 4:40). One Islamic theological maxim is that this dunya (world) is dar al-ibtila’ (the abode of trials) whereas the akhira (hereafter) is dar al-jaza’ (the abode of recompense). As one scholar summarizes, “the afterlife in orthodox Islamic theology is one of true justice, punishment, and reward, on a scale beyond human comprehension, and the human free will exemplified in this world is held to account in the next life.”
Thus, any suffering that is unexplained or unresolved here will be addressed by God hereafter, either by punishing oppressors, rewarding the oppressed, or both. This conviction allows Muslims to endure worldly injustices with hope, knowing that God’s scales will balance in the end. Importantly, this doesn’t mean a Muslim should accept injustice passively – Islam also teaches to oppose oppression and seek justice on earth – but it provides comfort that no pain or evil escapes God’s notice or justice (Qur’an 99:7-8).
Divine Wisdom and Human Limitations: Islamic theology strongly emphasizes Allah’s wisdom (hikma) and human inability to fully grasp it. The Qur’an reminds believers that sometimes “you may dislike something which is good for you, and like something which is bad for you – God knows and you do not” (2:216). A powerful illustration is the Qur’anic story of Prophet Musa (Moses) and Khidr (Qur’an 18:60-82). Khidr, a mysterious righteous servant of God, inflicts a series of seemingly unjust harms (scuttling a boat, killing a young man) which Moses cannot fathom. Only afterward does Khidr explain the divine wisdom behind each act (the boat was damaged to save it from pirates; the youth was killed to prevent much greater evil and allow something better). The lesson Allah teaches Moses – and by extension, all of us – is that divine providence often works through apparent evils to bring about greater goods, and humans must trust God’s wisdom even when they don’t immediately see the reason. This narrative has become a paradigm in Islam: Allah’s plan is wiser and more far-reaching than our minds can grasp. Many Muslim theologians thus adopt a stance of “tafwid” – entrusting the knowledge of ultimate causes to God. Rather than accusing God of injustice, they say like the Qur’an teaches: “I trust in God; surely He is All-Knowing and All-Wise.” In fact, some Islamic thought takes an “anti-theodicy” position (especially in the Ash’ari school), arguing that God’s will is not subject to human moral critique at all – whatever Allah wills or does is by definition just and good, even if it appears otherwise, because good and evil are ultimately defined by His will. Classic Ash’ari theologians like Al-Ghazali stressed God’s absolute sovereignty: Allah is al-ʿAdl (The Just), but His justice might transcend human standards of justice. For instance, if God lets an innocent child suffer now, Ash’aris would say God will more than compensate that child with eternal bliss – thus no injustice is done, though our emotions struggle with the sight of the child’s pain. By contrast, the earlier Mu’tazilite theologians elevated human reason and moral intuition, arguing that God must do what is just by human understanding; therefore they emphasized human free will to explain evil (to avoid attributing cruelty to God). This led to debates in early Islamic history about qadar (divine decree) vs. human agency. The Sunni compromise (Ash’ari/Maturidi doctrine) was that humans do have a type of free will (they “acquire” their actions) and are responsible for their evil choices, but nothing occurs outside of God’s will and omnipotence. God doesn’t force anyone’s hand to do evil, but He has foreknowledge and control over all events – a subtle balance. The key point for the believer is to affirm both: we must blame ourselves or other humans for wrongdoing, not God (as the Qur’an says, “Whatever good befalls you is from Allah, whatever evil befalls you is from yourselves” – 4:79), and we must accept that if God allowed it, He had wise reasons. As one hadith states, “No fatigue, illness, anxiety, sorrow or harm befalls a believer, not even a thorn prick, except that Allah expiates some sins by it.” Thus even what hurts has a benevolent aspect in God’s decree. Prominent scholars like Ibn Taymiyyah exemplified the optimistic view of God’s plan. Ibn Taymiyyah wrote: “[God] does not create pure evil. Rather, in everything that God creates is a wise purpose by virtue of which it is good. However, there may be some evil in it for some people… As for total or absolute evil, God is free of that.”
In other words, no event is 100% evil – there is always a net good or wisdom in the big picture. What seems evil is usually “partial or relative evil,” affecting some creatures negatively but contributing to the overall good (much like a surgeon’s painful operation hurts the patient in the moment but saves their life). This aligns with the Islamic teaching that Allah is “Al-Hakim” (The Most Wise) – He knows exactly why each trial occurs and what good will come from it, even if that good is hidden from us. Some Muslim thinkers even entertained the idea (much like Leibniz in the West) that this world, with all its mix of joy and sorrow, is the “best of all possible worlds” for achieving God’s purpose. They argued that a world with free will, moral struggle, and challenges leading to spiritual growth is superior to a hypothetical world with no suffering but also no true moral choice or development. In this vein, Ibn Taymiyyah and others said that when God willed to create creatures with free will (humans and jinn), by necessity that entails the possibility of evil – but God deemed it worthwhile for the sake of greater goods like genuine worship, virtue, and the manifesting of His attributes (Mercy, Forgiveness, Justice) in responding to human actions. Islam also deeply intertwines the notion of divine compassion with suffering. One of Allah’s names is Ar-Rahman (The Most Merciful). The Prophet taught that Allah has more mercy towards His servants than a mother has for her infant child. This mercy, Muslims believe, ensures that no one suffers needlessly. Either the suffering will bring about atonement, or elevate one’s spiritual station (for example, martyrdom in Islam – those who die unjustly or in trial are given instant Paradise and honor), or teach a lesson, or bring some benefit that might be invisible at first. Often, hardships lead to spiritual awakenings; as the Qur’an notes, when people are afflicted, they turn to God in sincere prayer, which is to their ultimate benefit (10:12). Many everyday Muslims cope with difficulty by repeating “Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji’un” (“We belong to God and to Him we return”) and “Alhamdulillah” (“Praise be to God”) even in loss, expressing trust that God knows best. This attitude mirrors Job’s Qur’anic prayer: “Indeed, adversity has touched me, and You are the Most Merciful of the merciful” (21:83).
Suffering as Purification and Opportunity: Islamic teachings frequently frame worldly hardships as opportunities for spiritual advancement. A hadith qudsi (a saying of God related by the Prophet) has Allah declare, “When I afflict My servant in his two beloved things (eyes) and he remains patient, I shall compensate him with Paradise.” Blindness borne with patience thus guarantees Heaven. Other narrations say that on Judgment Day, the people who had the most difficult lives will be envied by others when they see the enormous reward bestowed on them. Suffering, then, is not only a test but a means by which a believer may attain a reward far out of proportion to the worldly cost. In Islamic spirituality (e.g. Sufi literature), you even find the motif of “divine love through trials.” Rumi and other poets speak of suffering as the way God draws the soul closer, breaking one’s worldly attachments so that one longs for none but God. That said, Islam does not glorify suffering for its own sake. The Prophet Muhammad actively taught Muslims to seek refuge in Allah from suffering evils – there are many prophetic prayers for protection from hardship. He encouraged finding cures for illness (“God has not sent a disease without sending a cure”) and permitted believers to complain of pain and seek help. Patience (sabr) in Islam is a balanced patience – it means persevering without losing faith or resorting to forbidden actions, but it doesn’t forbid seeking relief or expressing one’s grief to God (the prophets did so). The Qur’an presents Job as praying fervently for healing after a long period of patient endurance, which God mercifully grants (21:83–84). Thus, Muslims believe one should neither rebel angrily against God nor despair, but also not passively resign to problems if one can solve them. The Prophet said, “Tie your camel (take precautions) and trust in Allah.” In context of theodicy, this means humans should do their best to prevent and alleviate suffering (through charity, justice, medical care, etc.), and what suffering remains beyond our control we entrust to Allah’s wisdom.
Summary of Islamic Theodicy: To distill the Islamic approach, we can highlight a few key tenets:
- Life as a Test: Earthly suffering and pleasure alike are tests of one’s faith, character, and devotion to God. Trials reveal what is in a person’s heart and provide an opportunity to demonstrate patience (sabr), reliance on God (tawakkul), and continued righteousness even under adversity. “Do you think you will enter Paradise without God testing those of you who strive and remain patient?” (3:142) captures this idea.
- Divine Justice (Punishment and Reward): Some suffering is a result of divine punishment or discipline. The Qur’an recounts past nations destroyed for their rampant evil (e.g. Noah’s flood, Lot’s people). Individual calamities can likewise be a wake-up call or penalty. “Whatever misfortune befalls you is because of what your own hands have earned, yet He pardons much,” says Qur’an 42:30, linking suffering to one’s sins while reminding that God often mercifully spares us from worse. Ultimately, perfect justice is served in the afterlife. This conviction alleviates the problem of apparent injustice – a child who dies painfully will be granted instant Paradise (bypassing the trials of life), a tyrant who dies in luxury will face God’s punishment after death.
- Human Free Will: Islam acknowledges that much suffering is caused by human evil – war, oppression, cruelty – which results from humans abusing the free will that God granted. God “permits people to freely choose” even actions He hates (like oppression), but those responsible will be accountable. Thus, moral evils are not Allah’s approval, but His allowance for the sake of a greater framework of freedom and moral responsibility. Some Islamic thinkers (like the Mu’tazilites and many modern scholars) heavily use the free-will defense, similar to Christian thought: without free will, there would be no meaningful good, so God allows humans to choose even though some choose evil. This is tempered by the belief that God’s decree (qadar) is still operative – nothing happens outside His knowledge and plan, even our free choices. How exactly that paradox is resolved is a theological mystery (often said to be understood fully by God alone), but practically it means Muslims should neither blame God for human evils nor doubt that He is in ultimate control.
- Divine Wisdom and Greater Good: Everything that occurs carries divine wisdom. There are many possible reasons why a given suffering might happen, and Islamic tradition enumerates several: it could be to cleanse one’s sins, to spur someone to repentance or prayer who might otherwise forget God, to test the faith of the sufferer or the compassion of those around them, to avert a greater harm down the road, to allow the development of virtues like patience, courage, and empathy, or to deepen one’s awareness of life’s transient nature and turn the heart towards the eternal. Islamic writings often list such wisdoms behind calamities, making the case that what God wills for a believer is ultimately good for them, even if it hurts now.
- Patience, Prayer, and Trust: The proper human response is emphasized over theoretical answers. Muslims are encouraged to meet suffering with sabr (perseverance), dua’ (supplication to God for help), and tawakkul (trust in God’s plan). The Qur’an promises “Allah is with the patient” (2:153) and “those who patiently persevere will receive a reward without measure” (39:10). Patience is not passive fatalism, but an active, faithful endurance coupled with prayer and effort. The Prophet Muhammad, during tragedies, would pray with words like “O Allah, unto You I complain of my weakness…” – modeling that turning to God is the refuge. There is also a strong social aspect: relieving others’ suffering is a major virtue (charity, healing, justice) – a hadith says “God will help His servant as long as the servant is helping his brother.” So, while accepting divine will, Muslims strive to ease pain in the world, seeing themselves as instruments of God’s mercy.
Al-Ghazali and Ibn Taymiyyah: The prompt asks to note views of scholars like Al-Ghazali and Ibn Taymiyyah. Al-Ghazali (11th–12th century) was a theologian who defended the orthodox view of God’s inscrutable wisdom. In his work The Incoherence of the Philosophers, he argued that human reason alone cannot fully grasp God’s motives; revelation and faith are key. He maintained that everything God does is just – but “justice” in God’s case means His actions are in accord with His own wisdom and will, not necessarily our human standards. Al-Ghazali often highlighted that what we see as misfortune may carry unseen blessings. For example, one of God’s 99 Names is Al-Latif (The Gentle, The Subtly Kind) – meaning He brings about good for us in imperceptible ways. A believer should thus have a good opinion of God (husn al-zann billah), trusting that there is latent good in whatever He decrees. Ibn Taymiyyah (13th–14th century), a later scholar, is noted for what one academic called a “theodicy of optimism” – he strongly believed in the overall goodness of God’s creation and plan. We saw his quote above that God creates no absolute evil. Ibn Taymiyyah wrote letters of counsel to people in distress, telling them that what befalls a believer is either to expiate sins or elevate one’s rank, and that a calamity that brings one closer to God is in reality a blessing. He pointed out that sometimes ease can be worse for a person if it leads them to arrogance or forgetfulness, whereas hardship might be the means to eternal success. Thus “everything that happens to a believer is good for him,” echoing the Prophet’s hadith. In essence, both Ghazali and Ibn Taymiyyah discourage blaming God or doubting His justice; instead they invite believers to recognize human limits and find peace in submitting to God’s will (Islam itself means “submission”). This doesn’t quash the question of “why suffering” but reframes it: rather than why, Islam focuses on to what end – the answer being to test, to teach, to purify, to grant better in the next life, or simply known to God. As the Qur’an says, “Trust in Allah; surely, He is All-Hearing, All-Knowing” and “In the remembrance of Allah, hearts find peace.” With such trust, a Muslim aims to move from asking “Why me?” to saying “Allahumma lakal-hamd” (“O God, to You be all praise”) in every circumstance.
Conclusion
Though Judaism, Christianity, and Islam each confront the reality of suffering in distinctive ways, there are notable similarities in their answers. All three traditions affirm that God is just, loving, and ultimately sovereign, and thus they reject the notion that suffering is meaningless or that evil will triumph in the end. Each faith teaches that human beings are not mere victims of random fate; rather, suffering can have purpose and redemptive value under God’s providence – whether as a just consequence of moral failings, a test of one’s righteousness, a catalyst for spiritual growth, or a mysterious part of God’s larger plan. All emphasize the importance of free will in accounting for evil: humans have the ability to choose good or evil, which explains much of the world’s suffering as self-inflicted or caused by others’ sins (from the Torah’s portrayal of sin leading to exile, to Augustine’s and al-Ghazali’s insistence that God gave free will and we misused it, to the Quran’s reminder that God permits people to choose unbelief or injustice. In this, the three faiths absolve God of direct blame for moral evil and place responsibility on human agency. Likewise, all three hold that God cares about our suffering and provides guidance and comfort. In Judaism, God is often “with” His people in their suffering (as expressed in Psalm 23 or in rabbinic tales of God’s tears for Israel’s pain). Christianity literalizes this with the Incarnation – God entering history as the suffering servant, Jesus, to ultimately defeat suffering from within. Islam stresses God’s closeness (“When My servants ask about Me, I am near” – Qur’an 2:186) and His compassionate names; believers are urged to call on Him for help, knowing “He is with the patient”. All three encourage prayer, trust, and righteous action in the face of suffering: Job tearing his cloak but still worshipping God, Jesus praying “Thy will be done” in Gethsemane, and Muhammad saying “O Allah, I seek refuge in You” during hardship – each exemplify faithful submission rather than despair.
Despite these commonalities, there are distinctive emphases. Jewish thought, especially after the Holocaust, is very candid about the existential wrestle with God over suffering. There is a strong tradition of arguing with God (Abraham bargaining over Sodom, Job’s bold lament, even modern theologians like Rabbi Harold Kushner asking “Why, God?”). Yet Judaism balances protest with deep covenantal trust – epitomized by saying “Dayenu” (it would have been enough) in gratitude for God’s deliverances despite trials. The Jewish perspective tends to be this-world focused: classical Judaism did develop beliefs in the afterlife and resurrection, but much of its theodicy is played out in the arena of history (exile and redemption, cycles of punishment and restoration). Christianity, by contrast, places the problem of suffering in a sweeping cosmic drama: the Fall of man, the Redemption by Christ, and the awaited New Creation. The suffering of Jesus is absolutely central – it’s through His cross and resurrection that Christians interpret all suffering. Jesus’ victory gives Christians hope that all suffering can be redeemed and will end when Christ returns. The notion of redemptive suffering also allows Christians (especially in Catholic spirituality) to find personal meaning by uniting their pain with Christ’s for the sake of love. This Christ-centric theodicy is unique to Christianity: God doesn’t just explain suffering; He shares in it and transforms it from within. Meanwhile, Islam places great emphasis on Allah’s supreme wisdom and the life to come. In Islamic theology, one submits to the decree of Al-Qadir (The All-Powerful) with the assurance that any injustice now is temporary and Allah’s mercy and justice will manifest completely in the Hereafter. The Islamic solution is often described as “multiperspectival” – combining elements of free-will explanation, soul-making (through tests), divine justice (afterlife reward/punishment), and pure submission to God’s will. Islam possibly leans the most on the “inscrutability” of God’s plan: it teaches that we cannot always know why something happened, but we know what we should do (have sabr and trust in God). Thus, questioning “Why me?” is less fruitful; the focus is on responding in faith because “God knows and you know not.” The Quranic story of Khidr and Moses is paradigmatic here, as is the frequent refrain “Allah is the Best of Planners.”
Another difference is in how suffering is leveraged for theodicy vs. relationship. In systematic Christian philosophy (and to a degree Jewish and Islamic philosophy), the problem of evil is a logical puzzle to be solved with theodicies like the free will defense or greater-good arguments. But at the pastoral level, all three faiths turn suffering into an impetus for deeper relationship with God. Judaism emphasizes covenant – enduring sometimes as God’s punishment, sometimes not understanding but still clinging to the covenant (as in the name Israel, “wrestles with God”). Christianity emphasizes union with Christ – “to know Him… and the fellowship of sharing in His sufferings” (Philippians 3:10) is seen as a profound way to know God. Islam highlights submission (islam) and trust – rida (contentment with God’s decree) is considered a high spiritual state. The believer’s heart, through sabr and dua, draws nearer to Allah in hardship, purified like gold in a furnace. In all, suffering becomes not just something to be explained, but something that can deepen faith and compassion. It’s striking that in each tradition, some of the most revered figures are those who suffered greatly (the Prophet Job in Judaism/Islam, the martyrs in Christianity, Imam Husayn in Shia Islam, etc.), suggesting a shared recognition that how one faces suffering can be spiritually ennobling.
In conclusion, Judaism, Christianity, and Islam each offer a rich, multifaceted approach to the question of suffering. They don’t present identical doctrines, but they all refuse to see suffering as senseless. Instead, suffering is woven into a narrative of moral growth, divine pedagogy, justice, and ultimate redemption. For Jews, suffering has been understood as at times a punishment or a loving correction, at times an unfathomable decree of God’s sovereignty, and often as a call to ethical action and solidarity (to comfort the suffering and uphold faith in God’s goodness despite the pain). For Christians, suffering is inextricably linked to the cross of Christ – it is both the result of living in a fallen world and the means by which God saved that world, giving suffering believers a unique hope through Christ’s resurrection. For Muslims, suffering is part of the Divine test of life and the wisdom of Allah’s will – it requires patience (sabr) and promises immense reward, with the Prophet’s own life as an example of triumph through trials. All three maintain that God is ultimately compassionate and just: any suffering that exists, He either allows for a greater mercy or justice, or will rectify in the end. As the Jewish sage Rabbi Akiva expressed and any devout Christian or Muslim might equally affirm: “All that God does, He does for the good.”
While the intellectual problem of “why” may never have a fully satisfying answer in this life, the faithful of each tradition find comfort in God’s presence and promise. In prayer, in community, and in clinging to the hope of deliverance, they transform the reality of suffering into an opportunity to witness faith, compassion, and the eventual triumph of divine goodness over all evil.






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