The problem of suffering and death

Derek Denhard

Perhaps the most difficult question my atheist friends like to ask to challenge my belief in God involves the problem of evil, pain and suffering, and our mortality.

Simply stated, the problem is this: how can a benevolent God allow evil to exist and torment us? Why does God allow us to suffer illness, pain, and eventually, death?

When I debated Ed Buckner, former president of American Atheists, I felt like that was the most difficult challenge he posed in his argument advocating atheism.

It’s a very good question, I must admit. I think part of the answer involves free will.

We are given the ability to choose or reject God by the fact the evidence for His existence is not direct, but mostly circumstantial in nature. However, there’s a little bit more to the answer than simply “free will”, in my opinion.

Derek Denhard was my friend. We graduated from the same high school, Savannah Christian, in 1978.

We weren’t exactly what you’d describe as close friends, but every time I ran into Derek after graduation, we always smiled, shook hands, and promised we’d get together soon for dinner. I can’t recall ever exchanging harsh words with the guy. Nobody disliked Derek.

Sadly, we both took “soon” for granted, I’m afraid.

The reason I am writing about Derek in past tense is because recently and quite unexpectedly, he died from a heart attack, at only 54 years old. Younger than me.

Derek seemed far too young. He was far too healthy and happy with his life, blessed with a beautiful family and great joy for life.

This is typically when my own morbid existential questions are posed to God: Why did Derek die? Why wasn’t it me instead? It is a fact that we’re all going to die, sooner or later.

But why did Derek have to die before me? From what I could ascertain from friends and family at the Atlanta visitation, Derek’s worst vice was an ice-cold can of Pabst Blue Ribbon beer.

Without incriminating myself unnecessarily by giving out all the gory details, I believe that I’ve done considerably worse than that to my own body on my best day.

For many years, I drank a Coke for breakfast.

Derek will never get to see his beautiful grandchildren that will surely come one day. I already have three. Quite frankly, that just doesn’t seem fair.

But as Jesus himself said that life isn’t supposed to be fair, in Matthew 5:45 :

…that you will become the children of your Father who is in Heaven, for his sun rises on the good and upon the evil and his rain descends on the just and on the unjust.

I don’t think anybody in their right mind would claim that Derek deserved to die anymore than any of us can claim that we deserve to live.

As testament to the life Derek lived, more than a thousand people came to the funeral home in Atlanta to pay their respects to his family. A two hour visitation lasted four hours — the employees at the mortuary said they couldn’t remember a larger turnout for a funeral.

Clearly, Derek was well-loved, and he will be sorely missed by family and friends alike.

In spite of their sorrow and mourning, Derek’s family take solace from the joy of his memory, and they find comfort in their firm belief, stated more than once and by more than one family member, that they will see Derek again, when they die.

I believe that, too. Derek was a man with faith. I’ll look forward to seeing him on the other side.

The problem of pain, suffering, and death doesn’t seem to make sense, until we realize that without experiencing pain, we don’t understand the meaning of pleasure — it would have no meaning, in fact.

Everything would be pleasant. Without knowing sorrow, we can’t truly appreciate joy.

Nothing helps us recognize the need to cherish the life we have more than the untimely death of a well-loved friend. Take nothing for granted. Be thankful for every day you have.

And make sure the people you love realize it.

Derek obviously did.