Years ago, I recall reading a statement that most philosophers are optimists. There have been exceptions— Arthur Schopenhauer for example. In more recent years, it seems like there is a larger number of philosophers who could be seen as pessimistic— some existentialists and some nihilists and perhaps others. Does this mean that there is a growing pessimism in philosophy, or does it mean that the philosophers who tend to stand the test of time are the optimists? I don’t really know— but philosophy has always had a component to it that is axiological. That is a fancy term that essentially means “How then should we live?” Optimists tend to embrace the role of looking for solutions than do pessimists. I could be wrong.

I am not a philosopher, so I better stop before it becomes even more obvious. Christian theology seems also to populated by optimists. As a Christian, I suppose one really should be a long-term optimist— ultimately, there is supposed to be a happy ending. But I do think that a more general optimism also exists and it can be seen in the problems that theology seeks to tackle.

One of the great questions that has been a challenge for centuries is, “Why do bad things happen to good people?” While this question could (and should) be posed by anyone— it makes more sense to come from an optimist. An optimist says, “It just makes sense to me that in a Universe designed, created, and regulated by an infinitely powerful benevolent God, good things should happen to good people, and bad things should happen to bad people.” For a pessimistic person, things make look a bit different. “We live in a thoroughly broken world where power wins and self-interest is the driving human motivation— so why is it that good things so commonly happen to good people?” It is a perfectly reasonable question. Unlike the popular adage, nice guys commonly do not finish last. Why would generosity of spirit, and kindness commonly lead to good and even successful lives in a world of tooth and talon? My suspicion is that the question does not excite theologians as much since good happening to good people just makes sense to them, leading to a short-hand response like… “Hey, that’s God, you know.” But I think we need people who don’t have that optimistic presumption tackling theological questions. I will explain why at the bottom.

A related question to the one above is “Why is there pain?” Again, this is an optimist’s concern. There is a presumption that painlessness should be the norm. “If God gives good things to all of God’s creation, isn’t pain somehow a challenge to this?” A pessimist might ask the question, “Why is there pleasure?” I recently read (or I think it was a podcast) of a theologian talking about the theology of pleasure. It is interesting how little this topic tends to get studied. Another question might be, “Is pain good?” After all, so often pain has a positive role in one’s personal growth. Is it possible that pain is a better demonstration of a benevolent God, than pleasure?

These questions flow into other areas of theology. Consider, for example, the Theology of Heaven—

Is Heaven truly free from all pain? An obvious answer would be Revelation 21:4. This seems to answer the question fully—

“and God shall wipe away every tear from their eyes, and the death shall not be any more, nor sorrow, nor crying, nor shall there be any more pain, because the first things did go away.”

This verse is very comforting but very confusing. How can there be no sorrow— don’t we feel the loss of those who are no longer with us (I don’t see universal salvation in Revelation). This has led to some horrific responses from some preachers. For example “Oh we will be experiencing so much joy, we won’t even have time to think about those who lost” or “We lose our memories of our past so we don’t feel that loss.” The first solution is essentially to make us monsters. I don’t see that as even remotely Biblical. the second one is almost worse. We have new bodies and new memories. What then is it about our glorified selves that is “us.” Essentially, we are following Christ for someone else to live in a glorified state.

Moving on to pain— if there is no pain, does that mean that we now lack pain receptors. If we stub a toe does it feel okay? If we topple off of a wall, do we feel no discomfort? Part of the problem is resolved when one looks at the Greek— it is “Ponos.” Even though it can mean pain, it can also mean travail, agony, or hard work.

Perhaps the solution is in the first part of the verse— It is not just that there is a freedom from death, sorrow, mourning, and pain (anguishing labor?), God is also there to provide confort— wiping away every tear. This can be seen as a one-time event, like “Okay,” says God, “Cheer up now…. nothing remotely uncomfortable will ever happen to you again.” However, this same language of wiping away tears is mentioned three times. Not only is it mentioned in Rev. 21:4, but also in Rev. 7:17 and Isaiah 25:8.

Could it be that God as one who comforts is not a one and done situation. After all, the previous verse in Rev. 21:3 speaks of God tabernacling with us. The emphasis is on the long-term relationship, not merely a one time transition.

This further brings up questions of whether pain-free is the idealized state— either in the past or the present. Is the paradise of Genesis 1 and 2 a place without pain? Was it impossible to twist an ankle or get something in one’s eye? Or is the the situation of the fallen state not the arrival of pain, but the arrival of it without comfort. After all, Genesis 3 does not describe the arrival of work— one still hard had to work (gather) to eat in the first two chapters— but or arduous travail. The pain removed in Rev. 21:4, could be exactly this— not a removal of our ability to feel physical pain, but a removal of pain without comfort, just as it describes not a removal of labor, but of painful hard work.

OK— SO WHY IS THE IMPORTANT?

I think we live in a time of growing pessimism. I am convinced that fewer and fewer people find it confusing that good people suffer loss at times. More think it is quite reasonable. I think we need to deal with the “glass half-empty” people who struggle to understand–

— the beauty of the world and universe.

—that people often recognize and do what is good even when it does not appear to align with their self-interest.

—discover, to their surprise, perhaps, redemptive qualities in suffering and loss.

I recall talking to a pastor friend. His wife died. Up to her death, they never once talked about what would happen after she died. She placed her faith in God healing her— and I guess she felt that planning for any other alternative would demonstrate a certain lack of faith. That makes me sad actually. Nothing wrong with seeing God as benevolent and recognizing God as unbounded by modern medicine. Healing can happen at any time. And yet… Miraculous Healing is often drawn from optimists. I feel much would be gain from a more pessimistic view. Miraculous Healing is a delightful surprise, not an expectation. That attitude, I believe, should open the door to finding other delights as well, including the work of God who gives comfort, and that comfort helping us to comfort others.

If you want a passage for this, consider II Corinthians 1:5-7:

For just as we share abundantly in the sufferings of Christ, so also our comfort abounds through Christ. 6 If we are distressed, it is for your comfort and salvation; if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which produces in you patient endurance of the same sufferings we suffer. 7 And our hope for you is firm, because we know that just as you share in our sufferings, so also you share in our comfort.