In this post, we turn to three key sections from Chapter 5 of The Problem of God—“It’s a Personal Question,” “It’s a Biblical Question,” and “Not Just a Christian Problem.” In these pages, Clark shifts from philosophical abstraction to a more emotionally charged defense of God’s silence in the face of evil. He attempts to humanize the problem, spiritualize the pain, and distribute the burden of explanation across all worldviews. As always, let’s begin not with belief, but with curiosity.
1. When Emotion Becomes Strategy
(Responding to “It’s a Personal Question”)
Mark Clark rightly observes that suffering isn’t merely an intellectual puzzle—it’s deeply personal. And in that, he’s correct. When tragedy strikes, it doesn’t matter how many degrees you have in theology or philosophy; the pain is immediate, and the questions are raw.
But here’s where the strategy begins.
By pivoting so quickly to the emotional dimension of suffering, Clark subtly implies that asking why suffering exists is less important than finding comfort in it. He wants us to stop pressing the logic and instead lean into the warm idea that “God suffers with us.”
This move sidesteps the contradiction at the core of Christian theism:
If God is all-powerful and all-loving, why does evil exist at all?
Clark would rather we seek refuge in faith than hold belief accountable to reason. But the very fact that suffering is so personal—so wrenching—makes the absence of divine intervention even harder to excuse. It intensifies the problem. It doesn’t solve it.
Imagine telling a child dying of leukemia that “God is suffering with you.” The child doesn’t need a suffering companion. She needs healing. And if God could provide it but doesn’t, what exactly do we mean when we call Him good?
2. Job: The Bible’s Most Problematic Theodicy
(Responding to “It’s a Biblical Question”)
Clark next turns to the Bible, and specifically to the book of Job, as a meaningful response to suffering. He implies that Job offers the deepest insights into how a believer should understand pain.
Let’s look closely.
The setup of Job is this:
God makes a wager with Satan over Job’s faithfulness, giving Satan permission to destroy Job’s life to test him. Job’s children die. His wealth vanishes. His body is wracked with disease. And all of it is allowed—not stopped—by God.
Is this the “best possible framework” for understanding suffering?
It’s a disturbing one. Job’s suffering isn’t the result of his actions. It’s not justice. It’s not discipline. It’s divine spectacle.
And when Job finally demands an answer, God doesn’t give him one. Instead, He launches into a whirlwind monologue:
“Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth?”
(Job 38:4)
Translation?
“I’m God. You’re not. So don’t question me.”
This is not comfort. This is not clarity. This is a power play. And the resolution—where Job is “rewarded” with more children and wealth—treats human life like replaceable inventory.
If this is the biblical foundation for understanding suffering, it crumbles under moral scrutiny.
3. Universalizing the Problem Doesn’t Solve It
(Responding to “Not Just a Christian Problem”)
Clark’s final rhetorical move in this section is clever: he reminds readers that all worldviews must grapple with suffering, not just Christians. Atheists suffer. Buddhists suffer. Everyone suffers. So Christianity shouldn’t be singled out for criticism.
This is a subtle sleight of hand. Because the real issue isn’t the existence of suffering—it’s the incompatibility of suffering with Christian claims about God.
Let’s be clear:
- If there is no God, suffering is tragic but expected. It’s what we’d predict in a world shaped by random mutation, natural selection, and indifference.
- If there is a God who is all-loving and all-powerful, suffering becomes a contradiction.
You can’t have all three:
- God is all-powerful.
- God is all-loving.
- Evil exists.
Something has to give. And Clark, like many apologists, wants to keep all three—and blame the tension on our limited understanding.
But ignorance is not a solution. And turning suffering into a “universal dilemma” doesn’t resolve the Christian contradiction. It only tries to dilute it.
Conclusion: Truth Doesn’t Need to Comfort to Be True
The problem of evil and suffering is not solved by making it personal, wrapping it in scripture, or spreading the blame. Those may offer emotional relief, but they do not offer logical coherence.
If Christianity’s God exists, then every childhood cancer, every earthquake that buries families alive, every instance of rape or genocide—every one of these happens under His watch, with His knowledge, and according to a plan we are told is good.
That claim demands scrutiny. And no amount of emotional storytelling can make it make sense.
In the end, we’re not asking for comforting answers.
We’re asking for honest ones.
God or Delusion? 