Book Review: C.S. Lewis' The Problem of Pain

C. S. Lewis’ book, The Problem of Pain, initially published in 1940, tackled one of the most often asked questions in both the secular and non-secular worlds: How can a good and all-powerful God allow suffering and pain? A former atheist, Lewis approached this question of theodicy with a layman’s vulnerability, apologizing along the way to the “real theologian” for his insights. However, one can deduce that no apologies are necessary as the author meticulously and logically analyzes human nature and pain in relationship with self, others, and the Creator. In the end, Lewis demonstrates that the answer to the problem of pain is to draw nearer to God. Mary Marshall Ministry has witnessed that many adults challenged with intellectual disabilities and mental health issues do draw nearer to God. And as fellow image-bearers, it is our responsibility to help them in that endeavor.

Lewis began his approach to The Problem of Pain by walking his readers through religion’s origin, emphasizing humanity’s awareness, awe, and fear of a spiritual world or “numinous” against the backdrop of the natural world and its moralities. The author examined the relationship between these two realms and their impact on

how one views the problem of pain. Specifically, for Christians, morality, life, and death are witnessed through the life of Christ. Thus, suffering can coexist with believing in an all-powerful, good, and loving God. Lewis’ perspective on these attributes of divine omnipotence and divine goodness is reflected in his understanding that all things are possible through God. However, as all have witnessed, human nature often exercises free will to its own detriment. Without these missteps that lead to pain and suffering, there is no accountability for moral choices, nor are people drawn to building a stronger relationship with God, thus, making life a series of meaningless moments that lead nowhere. Lewis expounded on this existential argument, writing that human beings are the object of God’s love and that love fuels His desire to make all people lovable, including those with disabilities.

The author also distinguished between love and kindness; the latter has no investment in a person’s moral character but only keeps suffering at bay. Love, however, involves pain that leads to spiritual discipline and growth, which the author likened to parenting a child. Lewis placed the blame for human wickedness and sin where it should be, on humans, as God’s good creation was corrupted by man abusing his free will. Through that abuse, people have learned to inflict pain on one another. Sadly, those with intellectual disabilities and mental health issues have had more than their share. Thus, the author encouraged self-examination as he observed that people have misconceptions of how “good” they are and how others view them. Moreover, Lewis felt too much focus on corporate guilt, which society elevated via social conscience, could lead one to lose sight of their personal guilt, and that should never happen. How one views and treats those with disabilities, mental or physical, is at the core of their moral and ethical character.

Lewis did not hesitate to admit his cowardice to pain—again, his humility and vulnerability shone through. He felt the real question was not why people suffer but why some don’t. The converted Lewis attributed Christian perfection to suffering—a paradox of tribulation. His heartfelt discussion concluded that suffering awakens and moves people to submit to God’s will, and God used evil for the ‘complex good,’ mirroring Romans 8:28.

The issue of evil led to the topic of hell. If up to Lewis, hell as a doctrinal outcome would not exist. The author sincerely wished for everyone’s salvation, never to experience that inferno. Not a proponent of retribution theology, Lewis felt the existence of hell was in contradiction to God’s endless mercy. Still, it demonstrated that the rebel’s abuse of free will has its price: an eternity of self-enslavement. The author encouraged the pursuit of those in need of conversion but urged his readers not to lose sight of the possibility of their own damnation.

An ardent animal lover, Lewis addressed animal pain with compassion. The absence of sin or virtue in animals nullifies moral or spiritual benefits in their suffering, as God’s revelation does not provide such information. However, Lewis quickly pointed out that Genesis 1:26 directive for man to have dominion over animals is not permission to inflict pain or abuse God’s creatures. Thus, man is always considered in relation to God, but animals are considered in relation to man. Lewis romantically believed the tamed animal’s immortality could be experienced vicariously through their masters. The subject of heaven closed out Lewis’ writing on The Problem of Pain, for earthly suffering is always weighed against “the joys of heaven.” The author noted the innate deep desire that each soul has for their heavenly home, each holding a unique “key” to their mansion designed by God’s love for His people. Lewis beautifully illustrated heaven as the place God’s people were made for—the final reward after “life’s dance,” a return to God.

On a Personal Note

From my earliest memories, I recall feeling something ominous outside myself, more significant than me, mysterious and unidentified, even scary, reflecting Lewis’ acknowledgment of the “numinous.” This feeling of a substantial presence in the numinous was fortified throughout the years by my Christian parents and identified as God—omnipotent, omnipresent, and omniscient. It was in this understanding that my Protestant faith directed my moral compass. Moreover, I was raised to believe that God judged my actions and that He was aware of everything I did. This fact instilled in me a daily fear of sin, of doing something wrong that would bring down Divine judgment. As Lewis wrote, “All the human beings that history has heard of acknowledge some kind of morality; that is, they feel towards certain proposed actions the experiences expressed by the words ‘I ought’ or ‘I ought not.’” As I reached my teenage years, the line between those two choices blurred, and I found myself moving further away from God.

At seventeen, I announced to my devout Christian parents that I was no longer attending church with them and that I had doubts about the existence of a good and loving God.

It was the late sixties, and the war in Vietnam and rampant drugs had claimed many friends’ lives. People suffered at each others’ hands. Others lived lives challenged by mental and physical disabilities at no fault of their own. How could there be a God in such a wretched world? This atheistic view was once shared by Lewis, who wrote, “If you ask me to believe that this is the work of a benevolent and omnipotent spirit, I reply that all the evidence points in the opposite direction.” My wise and patient parents suggested that if I could not attend Sunday church services, I would have to find something noble to fill that time frame, giving back to the community. So I did. I became a volunteer at the local hospital.

Assigned to the Geriatric Ward, Oncology Unit, I spent my Sundays going from room to room, helping the old and the dying choose their next meal from the hospital menu. I adjusted pillows, poured water, and took messages to the nurses on call. Surprisingly, I found myself feeling confused about God even more. Many of the patients had great faith and seemed almost content with their circumstances—despite their age and health, soiled diapers, catheters, chemo, and pain, they still believed. They prayed, smiled, and even joked. They lived until they didn’t anymore. They were accepting of their impending death, knowing that heaven awaited them. Lewis’ words jogged this memory. He observed, “If the universe is so bad, or even half so bad, how on earth did human beings ever come to attribute it to the activity of a wise and good Creator?” Here on the third floor, witnessing the pain and suffering while caring for the frail elderly, the sick, and the dying, my faith was restored. As Paul wrote in Romans 3:3-5, “Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.” From believer to atheist to believer again, God does indeed work in mysterious ways.

Lewis’ chapter on “Animal Pain” moves the readers to consider God’s whole creation from both the biological and the spiritual. From the original sin, pain and death are introduced into what was a good and perfect realm.

Now, humans are forced to experience life’s fragility as they search for its meaning in an evil and imperfect world. Lewis brilliantly included a chapter that gives the reader pause to consider their position in relationship to God, the repercussions of sin, and the saving grace of the Creator. Scripture states that God placed His image inside man, separating him from animals and every other creation. This chapter is one more emphasis by Lewis to demonstrate that pain and suffering serve as a reminder of God’s presence and His desire for a relationship with all people, especially the marginalized. By drawing nearer to God, the pain disappears into His Divine love for humanity.

Like inspiring words evoked from Paul’s Damascene experience, C. S. Lewis’ conversion, observations, and insights found in The Problem of Pain hit at the heart of Christianity. Lewis may have written the book in 1940, but its contents are as relevant today as they were over eighty years ago. From Genesis to the present, a relational God seeks to redeem His lost sheep. As the author wrote, “God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pain: it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world.” Simply put, our pain calls us back to God regardless of our level of mental functioning.

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