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Why Bad Things Happen To Good People


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Posted

A recent tragedy in our family has been a trial of faith, especially for the youngest members of my family who are in their tender teen years and forming their adult faith.

 

Many of our discussions have been about why bad things happen to good people.  We have had an outpouring of the Spirit of God, and many blessings of comfort as well as comfort from prayers and others' faith.

 

However the question "why me (us/her)?" still lingers for all of us.  I'm curious what you all (y'all) have learned from your own trials, and how you see the interplay of God, agency, tragedy, mortality, and eternal progression playing out in your lives.  I have my own opinions the foremost of which is that we cannot learn to be gods (joint heirs with Christ) if we do not have learning experiences.  But I'd like to hear other perspectives.

 

In short what is the eternal value of loss and suffering to the righteous when the situation is no fault of our own?

 

 

Posted

I don't have any great wisdom to offer on this question. But the June Ensign had a nice article by Matthew S. Holland (related to you-know-who) that recounted the familiar story of the Smith family's early trials and hardships and drew the following lesson:

 

When Joseph arrived in Palmyra, the Lord had brought His foreordained prophet to the physical resting place of a treasure of inestimable value. . . . With mortal eyes, we might be tempted to envision that a more fitting path for such a man and such a moment would be a path of greater ease, efficiency, and acclaim. In recognition of the earth-shattering events about to happen as a consequence of this boy entering this town at this time, could not the Lord, who so carefully orchestrated the placement of the golden plates over a millennia earlier, have provided a straighter, more comfortable and heralded path of arrival?

 

Yes, He surely could have, but He did not.

 

There was no prominent, prophetic anointing of Joseph in his childhood (see 1 Samuel 16:11–13). There was no directive dream pointing him to a promised land (see 1 Nephi 5:4–5). There was no curious Liahona to help his family avoid missteps along the way (see 1 Nephi 16:10; Alma 37:38). And there certainly was no open-air limousine traveling along a sunny, streamlined parade route with cheering masses providing a triumphant welcome.

 

Rather, for Joseph and his family, there was a wildly meandering trail of sorrow marked with bad luck, ill health, poor judgment, natural disaster, crushing pain, callous injustice, continuing obscurity, and unrelenting poverty. This is not to suggest that the Smith family lived in one continual round of abject misery; they did not. But the path to Palmyra was anything other than direct, prosperous, and publicly notable. Lame, limp, and bloodied, the Prophet literally had to be carried to his unparalleled rendezvous with destiny by a nameless stranger.

 

Remember this as perhaps the first lesson of Joseph’s life and the coming forth of the Book of Mormon. In spite of failure, mishap, and bitter opposition—and in many cases precisely because of those things—Joseph Smith got exactly where he needed to be to fulfill his mission. So, if now or on some future day, you look around and see that other perhaps less-devoted acquaintances are succeeding in their jobs when you just lost yours; if major illness puts you on your back just at the moment critical tasks of service seem to come calling; if a call to a prominent position goes to someone else; if a missionary companion seems to learn the language faster; if well-meaning efforts still somehow lead to disaster with a fellow ward member, a neighbor, or an investigator; if news from home brings word of financial setback or mortal tragedy you can do nothing about; or if, day after day, you simply feel like a bland and beaten background player in a gospel drama that really seems made for the happiness of others, just know this: many such things were the lot of Joseph Smith himself at the very moment he was being led to the stage of the single most transcendent thing to happen on this earth since the events of Golgotha and the Garden Tomb nearly 2,000 years earlier.

 

“But,” you may say, “my life and earthly destiny will never be like that of the Prophet Joseph.”

 

That probably is true. But it is also true that your lives do matter to God, and your eternal potential and that of every soul you will meet is no less grand and significant than that of the Prophet Joseph himself. Thus, just like our beloved Joseph, you must never give up, give in, or give out when life in general, or missionary work in particular, gets utterly painful, confusing, or dull. Rather, as Paul teaches, you must see that “all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28; emphasis added).

 

https://www.lds.org/ensign/2015/06/the-path-to-palmyra?lang=eng

Posted (edited)

Part of it imo is that such things are of the normal course of events, living in a physical world: clouds form and it rains, brakes fail and a car crashes, a child stands for the first time then experiences triumph, an aneuryism occurs and a 35 year old dies.

But we know that life transcends the physical, we're more than our bodies, life is beyond this one, it's not over at death, they're not here, but they're not gone forever!

Edited by Meadowchik
Posted

Hard to put in a one word answer, but as someone who always tries to look for the silver lining I'd say a greater appreciation for the good things that really matter and a big enough perspective to see the value of things, generally.

When a family's house burns down, or is blown apart by a tornado, or flooded to the point of a total loss, for example, the value of a home is usually more apparent. Something that may once have been taken for granted or not very appreciated. And if the family is still okay with no loss but the property the value of the family is usually more apparent. All good things still have their value but some things are worth more than other things. And seeing what matters most or more than other things to other people usually also adds to our own perspective.

The more we see, the more we know, kind of thing.

Posted

It is a strange paradox that the suffering of the righteous is in many ways more defensible then the suffering of the wicked. When the righteous suffer they tend to become purified (though a few fall). When the wicked suffer they tend to harden in iniquity (though some do repent). It actually makes sense to make the good suffer and bless the wicked from a utilitarian standpoint.

Posted

It is a strange paradox that the suffering of the righteous is in many ways more defensible then the suffering of the wicked. When the righteous suffer they tend to become purified (though a few fall). When the wicked suffer they tend to harden in iniquity (though some do repent). It actually makes sense to make the good suffer and bless the wicked from a utilitarian standpoint.

 

The loss of a loved one tends to burn off the dross of life from what is important, that is for certain.

Posted

I'm going to run out of upclicks, but all good thoughts.  I look forward to checking in later to see more.  And I will share these with the family.

 

Thank you!

Posted

A recent tragedy in our family has been a trial of faith, especially for the youngest members of my family who are in their tender teen years and forming their adult faith.

 

In short what is the eternal value of loss and suffering to the righteous when the situation is no fault of our own?

 

There are so many things, Kevin, that can happen in our lives or the lives of our loved ones... or in our world in general, that cause us to ask the inevitable... Why? 

My husband entered the hospital for what is generally thought to be "routine" surgery... and I was to pick him up that evening and take him home... but unforeseen complications arose and he was placed in Intensive Care.  After nine days in the ICU it became evident that he was not going to recover.  So, according to his wishes in his advance directive for health care, which I was so thankful to have and honor on his behalf, we took him off life support.  I asked the doctor if he could keep him comfortable and pain free and was told yes... 

My husband was non-LDS, but I had reactivated three years earlier... I can't tell you the comfort that came to me through this experience because of the Plan of Salvation and my understanding of the Atonement.  Yes I grieved, but always my faith held me steady when other family members were at a loss...

I have felt the Spirit comfort me... my faith has been strengthened... and, at age 59, one year and one day after his death, I was sealed to my dear one.

I have been widowed for 16 years... yet I "feel" married... I am married... Now I'm 74.  Sometimes I think of my life as an hour glass with the sand quickly emptying... 

Your daughter is much younger than I was when I lost my husband... but the Comforter is there for her as it was for me... the blessing of gospel teachings are there for her as they were and are for me... Peace and comfort are available to her as they have been for me.  I've learned patience and courage as I've lived my life as it is now.   I am more compassionate.

May the Spirit continue to be with her as she faces the coming days, weeks and months. 

For the younger members of your family, understanding the Plan of Salvation and the Atonement can be a key to their growing faith...

 

Blessings...

 

GG    

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