Why does anything exist ... why not nothing?

He is the image of the invisible God , the firstborn of all creation: for by Him all things were created, both in the heavens and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones, or dominions, or rulers, or authorities—all things have been created through Him and for Him. He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together. He is also the head of the body, the church; and He is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, so that He Himself will come to have first place in everything. For it was the Father’s good pleasure for all the fullness to dwell in Him. - Colossians 1:15

Why does God allow suffering?


The classic Epicurean challenge is brutally simple:
If God is all-powerful, He can prevent evil;
If He is perfectly good, He should want to prevent it.
Yet evil and suffering exist.
So, either God lacks the power to stop evil, lacks the goodness to want to stop it, or the existence of evil calls the traditional concept of God into question.


The famous formulation is preserved by Lactantius and later popularized by Hume, rather than surviving directly in Epicurus’s own writings.

A more contemporary response tends to be less about finding one definitive “reason” and more about questioning whether God’s allowing evil is logically incompatible with God’s goodness.


Free-will arguments suggest that genuine moral freedom necessarily carries the possibility of terrible choices;


“Soul-making” arguments suggest that courage, compassion, character and moral growth can arise only in a world where suffering and difficulty are possible.

But contemporary philosophers also recognize the weakness of these answers: free will doesn’t adequately explain natural suffering, such as earthquakes, disease, or the suffering of animals and innocent children. And saying that suffering produces character can seem deeply inadequate when the suffering is extreme or seemingly pointless.

So the contemporary position is often more modest: the existence of evil may not logically disprove God, but the sheer amount and apparent meaninglessness of suffering remains powerful evidence against an easy or simplistic conception of an all-loving, all-powerful God.


The question therefore shifts to “What kind of God, if any, would create or permit a world like this?”
The argument places responsibility on God to control creation and life – to subdue nature and prevent evil from taking place.

The biblical answer begins by rejecting that assumption
: God is not obligated to prevent every consequence of human choice or to alter nature to prevent suffering.

In Genesis, God gives humanity a genuine commission: Adam is placed in the Garden to work it and keep it, and humanity is given authority to “rule” and “subdue” the earth. Adam therefore isn’t merely given a private moral test in the Garden; he is entrusted with representative responsibility over creation.

Then comes the crucial point: Adam chooses rebellion despite being warned about its consequence. God had explicitly said that eating from the tree would result in death. Adam nevertheless exercises his freedom of choice to reject God’s definition of good and evil and effectively says, I will determine this for myself.

The result is not that God suddenly changes the laws of physics. Fire still burns. Gravity still operates. Bodies still age. Creation remains ordered, but humanity’s relationship with God and its stewardship of creation has been catastrophically fractured. Genesis describes this in terms of the ground being cursed and humanity returning to dust.

That gives a different answer to the Epicurean dilemma:

Evil and suffering do not necessarily demonstrate that God lacks the power or goodness to prevent them. They are instead the consequences of God’s decision to give humanity genuine moral agency and then allowing human beings to experience the consequences of desiring to be like God and acting within their own freedom and choice.

God doesn’t simply erase those consequences every time humanity makes a destructive choice. If God continually intervened to prevent every consequence of human rebellion, human freedom would become something rather different from genuine freedom.

There is also an interesting contemporary dimension to this. Humanity continues to make the same fundamental claim: “I have the right to decide what is right and wrong for myself.” From the biblical perspective, that is essentially the Genesis rebellion repeated on a civilization scale.

But Job pushes the argument further
. Job complicates the argument rather than simply confirming it.

Job is not presented as suffering because he personally committed some terrible sin. His friends make essentially that accusation, and God ultimately rebukes them.

So the biblical position cannot simply be:

“People suffer because they did something wrong.”

Instead, Job introduces a much more profound claim:

Human beings do not possess sufficient knowledge to judge the entire moral architecture of God’s universe.

God’s response to Job is strikingly not, “Here is the complete explanation for your suffering.” Instead, God confronts Job with the enormous complexity of creation and asks, in effect:

“Were you there when I laid the foundations of the earth?”

That moves the discussion beyond “God caused this because Adam sinned” toward a deeper biblical argument: we see only a fragment of reality, whereas God sees the whole.

And that gives us a useful progression for the answer:

Epicurus: If God is good and powerful, why does suffering exist?
Genesis: Humanity freely rejected God’s authority and brought death and disorder into its experience. The earth was cursed because of man’s choice. Not because of God’s lack of interference.
Human responsibility: God permits humanity to exercise meaningful freedom rather than constantly overriding its choices and their consequences.
Job: But suffering cannot always be reduced to personal experiences; there are dimensions of reality we simply cannot see.
The larger biblical story: God’s apparent silence or allowance of suffering is therefore not necessarily evidence of indifference or incapacity. It is because man chooses to exercise his own will and lacks the power and authority to subdue and rule over creation.


From a biblical perspective, humanity tends to regard death as the final and absolute loss: punishment, destruction, or the end of a person’s existence. But Scripture presents a different conception. Jesus says that God is “not God of the dead, but of the living” (Luke 20:38).

Within that framework, physical death is a change of state, not necessarily the termination of personal existence. The person who dies has not thereby ceased to exist from God’s perspective.

That significantly changes the question of suffering and death.

If God is eternal and human existence ultimately extends beyond physical life, then an earthly death — however tragic and painful — cannot necessarily be evaluated as the final outcome of that person’s story. What appears to us as an irreversible ending, from God’s perspective, is a transition into another mode of existence in which God can still act toward that person through judgment, mercy, instruction, relationship and love.

This also gives a different perspective on the biblical warning to Adam:

“In the day that you eat of it you shall surely die.”

Death is certainly presented as a consequence of rebellion, but Scripture’s larger story doesn’t necessarily equate death with annihilation. The ultimate biblical concern becomes separation from God, rather than merely the cessation of biological life.

And this creates an important distinction for the problem of evil:

If earthly life is the entirety of human existence, then suffering and death can appear to make God’s goodness extremely difficult to reconcile with reality. But if earthly life is one temporary stage within an eternal existence, then suffering and death have to be evaluated in the context of the whole story rather than as the final chapter.

That doesn’t make suffering pleasant, nor does it mean we should dismiss grief. Job certainly doesn’t. But it does challenge the assumption that God’s allowing someone to die is equivalent to God permanently abandoning or destroying that person.

Like us, when people we love suffer, Job desperately wants an explanation within his immediate earthly circumstances. God doesn’t give him the complete explanation. Instead, God expands Job’s vision beyond what Job can see.

So we now have two distinct rebuttals:

Genesis: God is not arbitrarily inflicting suffering upon innocent humanity; humanity’s rebellion has consequences within a world God allows humanity to genuinely inhabit and govern.
The biblical view of death: physical death is not necessarily the final judgment on a person, because God’s relationship with a person is not terminated by biological death.

That second point also opens the door to what I think is probably the strongest Christian response: God doesn’t merely permit humanity to suffer and die — God enters the human condition Himself. The cross becomes a very different answer to the Epicurean question when God is understood not as a distant observer of suffering, but as one who willingly experiences it.

The destruction of the Canaanites

The strongest objection is that God sometimes commands Israel to destroy entire populations, apparently including children and animals. From a modern perspective, this can look like God ordering the murder of innocent people.

The biblical response begins with the role Israel was given. Israel wasn’t simply another nation conducting an ordinary war of conquest. The conquest narratives portray God as using Israel as an instrument of judgment against societies whose corruption had become extreme. Genesis 15:16, for example, says that the iniquity of the Amorites had not yet reached its full measure — suggesting that the judgment was neither arbitrary nor immediate.

The Canaanite cultures are repeatedly described as practicing forms of extreme religious and moral corruption, including child sacrifice and sexual/religious practices. Israel’s distinctive calling was precisely to separate itself from those practices, not absorb them.

There is therefore an important distinction between saying:

“God arbitrarily killed innocent people.”

and saying:

“God, as the giver and judge of human life, brought judgment upon societies whose moral corruption had reached a point at which He determined judgment was warranted, using Israel as the instrument.”

That doesn’t make the passages emotionally easy. It makes them morally difficult precisely because we are talking about judgment over human life. But the biblical writers don’t present God as subject to the same moral limitations as an individual human being deciding whom he may kill.

There is another important complication: the text itself undermines the idea that every individual within those nations was necessarily condemned. Rahab, for example, is a Canaanite who is spared and incorporated into Israel. The biblical story therefore isn’t simply “Canaanite ethnicity = death.” The issue is allegiance, judgment and the larger moral condition of the society.

And this connects directly with the earlier point about death. If physical death is not equivalent to annihilation, then the question becomes somewhat different again. The biblical framework can maintain both that God’s earthly judgment is real and that God’s ultimate judgment of each individual extends beyond physical death.

God is the ultimate judge of life and death; Israel was uniquely commissioned as an instrument of His judgment; the judgment was presented as occurring after prolonged moral corruption and warning; and God’s judgment is not limited to what happens to a person physically in this life.

God’s judgment is not portrayed as arbitrary conquest Across these accounts, there seems to be a recurring biblical pattern:

Warning precedes judgment.

The story of Sodom is particularly useful. Before the destruction, Abraham is informed of what is coming, and the angelic visitors go to Sodom. Abraham even challenges God over the justice of destroying the righteous along with the wicked. The underlying principle is that God’s judgment is not careless or indiscriminate.

And when God has a righteous human witness available, that witness may be sent to warn the people.

Jonah is almost the perfect illustration — and an ironic one. Jonah doesn’t want Nineveh to repent because he knows that God is merciful. He wants judgment; God wants repentance. The entire book therefore becomes a demonstration that God’s preferred outcome is not destruction but repentance and mercy.

Then there is another biblical pattern: God can use even morally compromised nations as instruments of judgment without endorsing those nations’ own wickedness. Assyria is a particularly striking example. God uses Assyria to judge Israel, but later judges Assyria for its own arrogance and violence. The instrument itself is not thereby declared righteous.

Why doesn’t God just get rid of evil?

He did one time – In the Flood narrative, God doesn’t commission another nation to conquer the world. God Himself brings the judgment. Likewise, in the final biblical judgment, judgment belongs to God rather than humanity simply deciding who deserves to die.

So we can begin seeing a broader biblical pattern:

God warns before judgment.
God sends witnesses where witnesses are available.
God desires repentance rather than destruction.
God remains responsible for the judgment and ultimately judges the instruments He uses.
God’s judgments are not presented as wars of territorial expansion or mere expressions of uncontrolled wrath.
And physical death is not understood as the end of God’s dealings with the individual.

God as not simply a deity who periodically decides to wipe out populations because He is angry.

There is also a fascinating Job-like irony running through all of this: human beings are extraordinarily quick to put themselves in the position of God’s judge — “How could God possibly do that?” — while Scripture repeatedly puts the human being in the opposite position: “Do you actually possess enough knowledge to judge the Judge?”


What about the suffering of animals?

Genesis presents the original creation as a world in which plants are given as food to both humanity and the animals. The animals are not initially presented as prey for human consumption. Neither are they predatory on each other. “The lion lays down with the lamb.” Isaiah 11:6 actually says the wolf will dwell with the lamb and the leopard will lie down with the young goat.
The prophetic picture of God’s restored kingdom removes the predator/prey hostility from creation.

The biblical answer isn’t merely that God permits suffering. The larger biblical claim is that God intends to end it. We cannot understand God’s goodness solely by looking at the present condition of the world. We have to consider what Scripture says God is ultimately doing with it.


The distinction between moral evil and natural evil

Moral evil: murder, oppression, war, abuse, cruelty — actions involving human moral agency. Moral evil exists because of freedom of choice. Man continually chooses to “Do what ever I want.”
Natural evil: earthquakes, disease, storms, congenital suffering, animal predation, etc. Natural evil exists because God does not interfere with nature. Man was given the responsibility to rule the Earth – a task that he has failed. The curse on the Earth because of man’s sin leads to decay and death.

It is our fault – not God’s.