The Seventh Sunday of Luke presents two astonishing miracles: the healing of the woman with the issue of blood and the resurrection of Jairus’ daughter. These two miracles reveal the boundless mercy of Christ, yet they also raise difficult questions. If Christ healed a woman and brought a child back to life, why do we still face illness, incurable diseases, and children dying at a young age? Does God discriminate? These questions are not theoretical; they spring from human suffering and often turn into a cry toward Heaven.
The Orthodox Tradition does not dismiss such questions nor view them as signs of disbelief. On the contrary, it recognizes them as part of the journey of faith, where a person struggles to encounter God not in comfort but in pain. At the same time, the science of psychology has also explored how faith and spiritual life influence the way people find meaning in suffering and cope with trials.
Since the time of Job, humankind has sought meaning in pain. Yet, according to Orthodox theology, God is not the author of evil — “God did not create death,” says the Wisdom of Solomon (1:13). Pain and corruption entered the world through humanity’s separation from God — through the fall and the mortality that followed. Saint Maximus the Confessor teaches that “pain is not God’s creation but a remedy for sin.” It is not a punishment but a space in which a person can rediscover freedom and turn toward divine grace.
Christ does not promise freedom from pain; He promises its transformation. Through His Cross, pain ceases to be a dead end and becomes an invitation to communion with Him. As Saint Isaac the Syrian writes: “The way of God is a daily cross.” Faith, therefore, is not a shield that keeps hardship away, but a way to illuminate and give meaning to it through God’s presence.
According to Orthodox understanding, miracles are not magical acts but signs of God’s Kingdom. Saint Gregory Palamas teaches that a miracle is a manifestation of the uncreated energy of God, not His essence. In other words, it is a way for God’s love and power to be revealed in the world — not evidence of favoritism. God does not act arbitrarily or selfishly; each miracle belongs to His saving plan and is not a mere satisfaction of human requests.
The absence of a miracle, therefore, does not mean indifference. God acts even when He seems silent. Christ did not heal every sick person He encountered, yet to those He did heal, He revealed the perspective of eternal life. Thus, the purpose of a miracle is not to abolish death but to testify that death no longer has the final word.
Orthodox experience views suffering as a cross that can become a source of life. Saint John Chrysostom, in one of his homilies, says that “everything benefits the one who loves God — even the difficult things.” When pain is endured with faith, it acquires meaning, becoming humility, prayer, and communion in love. Within the Church, the suffering person is never alone. The Body of Christ — the community of believers — is called to carry one another’s burdens (Gal. 6:2), to share in suffering, and to offer support.
The theology of the Resurrection, which pervades the entire liturgical life of the Church, provides the perspective missing from a purely rational or individualistic view. God does not remove pain; He transforms it — as seen in the lives of the saints, who found joy in His presence even through tribulation.
Psychology, though approaching the matter differently, recognizes the value of faith in building psychological resilience. Contemporary studies show that those who maintain strong religious faith display greater ability to cope with stress and loss. Prayer, liturgical participation, and spiritual community serve as sources of support, unity, and hope.
Thus, the psychological perspective does not negate the theological one but complements it in practical ways. Pain is not eliminated, but when a person experiences a sense of meaning and purpose — the conviction that he or she is not alone — endurance and inner healing become possible, transforming the experience of suffering itself.
The question “Why does God allow suffering” may never have a complete answer, for it attempts to grasp infinity within human limits. Yet, the Orthodox Tradition calls us to look to the crucified and risen Christ, where God does not respond with words but with participation — entering personally into human pain. There, within confusion and trial, hope is born. God does not promise a life without pain, but He promises that we will never face it alone.
+Metropolitan Nektarios of Hong Kong and South East Asia


