My curiosity extends beyond the academic world into the “Divinity of Suffering.”
On my dining room table, there are three different Bibles.
Over the years, I purchased three different Bibles to understand human suffering.
Why do some suffer and die in suffering, and why do others live a utopian lifestyle with enough?
Why does Hala-Na-Meleka-God-Almighty allow us to suffer?
I am not a theologian nor a biblical scholar in any way or form, but an air-breathing human being created by Hala-Na-Meleka-God-Almighty with a curious mind.
“If all suffering is a direct punishment from God for sin, then helping people would be wrong because it would be removing God’s punishment.
By: Austin S Fallah – A True Son of the Planet Earth Soil: fallahas@yahoo.com.
The duality of good and evil is a pervasive theme in theological discourse, intricately woven into the narratives of sacred texts.
The Holy Bible offers various interpretations of human suffering and divine justice, as exemplified in the stories of Job and Jesus (Yeshua).
Traditionally, these stories are often read with a lens that seeks to placate the complexities of faith; however, a deeper examination reveals a profound engagement with existential questions of justice, suffering, and the human condition.
Despite the assumptions imposed by neatly constructed religious dogmas, stories of figures like Job and Jesus(Yeshua) challenge our understanding of divine interaction and human experience, especially in times of tribulation.
By juxtaposing these two biblical narratives, we can explore the fundamental question: How does the presence of suffering complicate our perception of a sovereign, just Hala-Na-Meleka-God-Almighty, and what does this say about our own humanity?
At the heart of the story of Job is the exploration of extreme suffering and the Search for Answers.
Job is characterized as a righteous man who, despite being favored by Hala-Na-Meleka-God-Almighty, undergoes intense trials that strip away his wealth, health, and family.
As his afflictions deepen, so does his despair, prompting him to question the very nature of justice and divine benevolence.
The initiation of Job’s suffering is particularly telling; it begins not from his own failings, but through a wager between Hala-Na-Meleka-God-Almighty and Satan (Lucifer).
Here, the role of Lucifer is noteworthy; despite being seen as the embodiment of evil, he enters into the divine council to challenge(according to the King James and hopefully it is said in the Queen James bible, (which I have not purchased nor read))God, his presence underscoring the complexity of the relationship between the Creator and the created.
This narrative element raises the uncomfortable yet necessary question: What does it mean for a divinely sovereign Hala-Na-Meleka-God-Almighty to permit suffering, and is it possible for even a being like Lucifer to have a place within the overarching divine order?
As Job laments his fate, he grapples with feelings of abandonment and betrayal, leading him to question the very existence of divine justice.
His famous outcry, “Why do you hide your face and consider me your enemy?” echoes the sentiments of countless individuals (Austin S. Fallah is one of those) who have felt the burden of unexplainable suffering.
This is where the story transcends its surface-level interpretation; it resonates with anyone who has felt forsaken during moments of crisis.
Can Liberians attest to this? (Do you remember the so-called human-created Liberian civil war?
Job’s protests against his suffering compel readers to consider whether faith in a benevolent Hala-Na-Meleka-God-Almighty can coexist with the harsh realities of life.
In this sense, Job serves not just as a figure of faith but as an archetype of human resistance against unjust suffering.
In the New Testament (King James Bible), the narrative of Jesus (Yeshua) further complicates this exploration of suffering and divinity.
At the climax of his earthly journey, Jesus (Yeshua) utters the haunting words, “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?”, a direct challenge to Hala-Na-Meleka-God-Almighty’s presence amid deep suffering.
At this moment on the cross, Jesus(Yeshua) embodies the culmination of human anguish and despair, intermingled with the divine.
His plea signifies more than mere suffering; it reveals a dynamic interaction between Jesus(Yeshua) and Hala-Na-Meleka-God-Almighty (Meleka Na).
This moment is crucial as it suggests that even the Son of Hala-Na-Meleka-God-Almighty, the epitome of divine righteousness, experiences existential doubt and anguish.
I know some philosophical theologians and biblical scholars will come up with their own philosophy on this, but we all know English is plain and easy to read and understand. Please don’t complicate things for those of us who are not within your ramps.
It offers a reflection on the complexity of faith; issues of loss, grief, and perceived abandonment weigh heavily on even the most faithful.
Both Job and Jesus (Yeshua, the son of Hala-Na-Meleka-God-Almighty, not Hala-Na-Meleka-God-Almighty) confront the apparent silence of Hala-Na-Meleka-God-Almighty amid their suffering.
In the case of Job, his friends attempt to rationalize his condition through traditional theological lenses that equate suffering with punishment.
They reflect theological views that insist on a direct correlation between sin and suffering, which Job vehemently resists.
His insistence on his righteousness challenges the notion of a simplistic divine justice system.
Similarly, Jesus(Yeshua), while exuding unwavering faith, finds himself immersed in suffering that seems disconnected from any moral framework.
Together, these stories compel readers, particularly one like me, to question the validity of traditional theological assumptions regarding suffering and divine justice.
Moreover, the relationship between suffering and divine justice highlights the inadequacy of human explanations.
The interpretations of theologians, while valuable, often fall short of embracing the profound mystery surrounding divine interaction with humanity.
The texts, “as plainly written for our understanding” as some may declare, invite readers to probe beyond textual literalism.
The narratives challenge us to engage actively with the ineffable nature of Hala-Na-Meleka-God-Almighty and the deeply rooted complexities of human experience.
They emphasize that while Job and Jesus (Yeshua) represent figures of faith, they also embody the struggle for understanding and the restlessness that accompany suffering.
Moreover, the presence of Lucifer (with full access to Hala-Na-Meleka-God-Almighty at any time; read the Job story) as an agent in the divine narrative complicates simplistic notions of good and evil.
According to the Bible, Lucifer’s willingness to traverse the boundaries of heaven and earth to challenge presents a dualism that demands careful consideration.
Contrary to the perception of absolute evil, Lucifer’s roles within the narratives suggest a paradoxical nuance.
The very act of questioning Hala-Na-Meleka-God-Almighty establishes a relationship between humanity and the divine; it opens avenues for dialogue rather than definitive condemnation.
This manifold perspective shapes our understanding of human morality: “No man or woman is 100% bad; there is a good side to an air-breathing creature of Hala-Na-Meleka-God-Almighty.”
It emphasizes the innate struggle within humanity, a representation of fallibility intertwined with the potential for grace.
This pertinent question of divinity, suffering, and the human experience carries beyond the scriptural narrative to inform our interactions within contemporary society.
Many individuals (including me, you, and you) today face their own existential trials, igniting struggles that echo Job’s lament and Jesus’s (Yeshua) cry of abandonment.
In times of anguish, the human tendency to wrestle with Hala-Na-Meleka-God-Almighty remains constant; we seek understanding and healing even as we grapple with the implications of faith.
The anguish surrounding suffering often estranges individuals from their beliefs, as evident in the debate between faith and doubt.
These narratives embody that struggle, inviting broad emotional, spiritual, and intellectual engagement.
Ultimately, the stories of Job and Jesus(Yeshua) coalesce into a single compelling proposition: the existence of suffering does not negate the presence of divine love and grace.
Both narratives underscore that faith involves wrestling with doubt, longing for understanding in a world steeped in pain.
This theology of suffering invites adherents to acknowledge the space for questioning, affirming the duality of faith and doubt, righteousness and struggle, divine presence, and perceived absence.
The appeal of these stories lies in their capacity to resonate with the lived experiences of countless individuals throughout generations.
As readers engage with these narratives, they recognize and affirm their own fears and questions.
This acknowledgement encourages a transformative understanding of suffering that is as complex as the human condition itself.
The richness of the narratives encourages both communal discourse and personal reflection on the larger questions they evoke: what does faith look like in the face of suffering, and how does the divine respond to our cries?
The stories of Job and Jesus(Yeshua) stand as pivotal focal points in the theological exploration of suffering and divine justice.
Through their narratives, we are invited to reflect on the complexities of faith and the essential human struggle with anguish.
By engaging in this reflection, the lessons gleaned resonate far beyond the confines of the biblical text, inviting profound engagement on the issues of justice, morality, and the essence of our shared humanity.
Whether it is Lucifer challenging the divine, Job questioning his existence, or Jesus (Yeshua) confronting mortality, these stories implore those who wrestle with faith to seek understanding amid the chaos; they urge us to recognize the benevolence within the tempest and to embrace the totality of our human experience.
Faith is meant to be a journey marked by struggle, inquiry, and ultimately, grace.
