Why Does God Allow Child Abuse? What Judaism, Christianity, and Islam Say

Judaism doesn't sidestep hard questions — it wrestles with them, a tradition rooted in the very meaning of the name Yisrael (one who struggles with God). The problem of child abuse sits squarely within the broader Jewish framework of theodicy, the attempt to reconcile a just God with unjust suffering.

A foundational principle in Jewish law is individual moral accountability. Deuteronomy 24:16 states plainly that each person bears responsibility for their own crimes Deuteronomy 24:16, a principle reinforced twice in the historical books 2 Chronicles 25:42 Kings 14:6. This means an abuser carries full moral culpability — the Torah doesn't distribute blame onto victims or onto God's design. Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik (20th century) argued that Jewish theology doesn't demand we explain suffering so much as respond to it with action and compassion.

The Talmudic tradition (tractate Sanhedrin and Bava Kamma) places strong obligations on communities to protect the vulnerable. The concept of pikuach nefesh — the preservation of life — overrides nearly every other commandment, implying that allowing preventable harm is itself a moral failure of the community, not a divine decree.

It's worth noting that Proverbs 23:13 has historically been cited in discussions of corporal discipline Proverbs 23:13, though modern Jewish scholars like Rabbi David Wolpe distinguish sharply between culturally contextualized discipline and abuse. The verse does not sanction harm; the broader Torah framework of child protection and individual accountability makes that clear Deuteronomy 24:16.

Ultimately, classical Jewish thought — from Maimonides in the 12th century to contemporary thinkers like Eliezer Berkovits — tends to locate the permission of evil in the gift of human free will. God created beings capable of genuine moral choice, and that freedom, tragically, includes the capacity to harm the innocent. This doesn't resolve the anguish, but it frames it within a moral universe where human responsibility is real and serious.

Christian theology has grappled with the suffering of innocents perhaps more publicly than any other tradition, partly because the faith centers on an innocent figure — Jesus — who himself suffered unjustly. The question of why God allows child abuse is, for Christians, inseparable from the broader problem of evil.

Jesus' recorded attitude toward children is unambiguous and striking. In Matthew 19:14, he rebukes his disciples for turning children away, saying they belong in his presence Matthew 19:14. Elsewhere (Matthew 18:6), he issues one of his harshest warnings against anyone who causes a child to stumble — a millstone around the neck imagery that signals how seriously he treated harm to children. This makes child abuse not merely a social problem but a direct affront to Christ's expressed values.

The dominant theological answer to why God permits abuse draws on the doctrine of free will, articulated by Augustine of Hippo (354–430 CE) and later refined by Alvin Plantinga in his 20th-century Free Will Defense. The argument holds that genuine love requires genuine freedom, and genuine freedom includes the terrible capacity to harm. God's non-intervention isn't indifference — it's the cost of creating beings capable of real moral agency.

That said, many Christian theologians — including Jürgen Moltmann in The Crucified God (1972) — push back on tidy free-will answers when children are the victims. Moltmann argues that God suffers with the abused child, that the cross represents divine solidarity with innocent suffering rather than divine distance from it. This doesn't explain the permission of abuse, but it reframes God's relationship to it.

There's genuine disagreement here. Calvinist theologians like John Piper argue God's sovereignty encompasses even tragedy, working redemptive purposes through suffering — a view many survivors and pastoral counselors find deeply problematic. Open theists like Greg Boyd argue God genuinely limits divine control to preserve creaturely freedom, meaning abuse grieves God without being ordained by God. These aren't fringe positions; they represent live debates within contemporary Christian thought.

Islam's approach to this question operates on two levels: the theological (why does Allah permit suffering?) and the legal-ethical (what does Islam demand in response to it?). Both are important, and they pull in a coherent direction.

On the ethical level, the Quran is explicit. Surah Al-An'am 6:151 lists among the gravest prohibitions: harming one's children, approaching immorality, and killing the soul Allah has forbidden Quran 6:151. Surah Al-Isra 17:31 reinforces this, calling the slaying of children a great sin Quran 17:31. While these verses address infanticide specifically, classical scholars like Ibn Kathir (14th century) and contemporary scholars like Sheikh Yusuf al-Qaradawi extend the principle to all forms of harm against children — physical, emotional, and sexual. The child's wellbeing is a divine trust (amanah).

Hadith literature also addresses the inversion of family harm. Sahih Muslim 263 records the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ identifying the abuse of parents as a major sin, noting that harm within family structures is taken with utmost seriousness Sahih Muslim 263. The logic extends: if harming one's parents is a major sin, harming one's children — who are even more vulnerable — carries at least equal gravity.

On the theological level, Islamic thought addresses the permission of evil through the concept of ibtila (divine testing) and the affirmation of Allah's ultimate justice. Classical theologians like Al-Ghazali (1058–1111 CE) argued that this world is not the final court — every injustice will be addressed in the hereafter, and the suffering of innocents will be recompensed by Allah in ways beyond human comprehension. This doesn't minimize earthly suffering, but it situates it within a framework of ultimate divine justice.

It's worth acknowledging that some Muslim scholars and communities have been criticized for insufficient institutional responses to child abuse, a tension that contemporary Islamic ethicists like Dr. Ingrid Mattson actively address. The theological resources to condemn abuse are clearly present in the tradition Quran 6:151Quran 17:31; the question of whether communities deploy them adequately is a live and important one.

The Torah legislates that each person bears responsibility for their own crime, and that parents are not punished for children nor children for parents, establishing a baseline of justice that shields children from vicarious punishment Deuteronomy 24:16.

This norm is echoed historically in the Kings narrative, where the children of assassins were not put to death specifically because Moses’ Teaching forbids punishing children for their parents’ crimes 2 Kings 14:6.

Isaiah acknowledges a stage before a child knows to refuse evil and choose good, implicitly marking children’s limited moral awareness and calling adults to discernment and protection Isaiah 7:16.

In sum, Jewish scripture frames communal justice around personal culpability and refuses to make children bear the penalty for adult wrongdoing Deuteronomy 24:16.

Jesus directly welcomed children and insisted they not be kept from him, declaring that the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these Matthew 19:14.

This centers children within the community gathered around Jesus and rebukes any move to marginalize or exclude them Matthew 19:14.

Christian Scripture also receives the legal principle from the Hebrew Bible that children are not to be punished for the sins of others, reinforcing accountability directed at actual wrongdoers rather than the innocent Deuteronomy 24:16.

The Qur’an strictly forbids killing children out of fear of poverty and assures provision for families, classing such killing as a great sin Quran 17:31.

It also declares the sanctity of life and bans killing any soul without right, identifying this prohibition among the Lord’s commands Quran 6:151.

A hadith counts abusive behavior within families among major sins by showing how cursing another’s parents leads to reciprocal abuse of one’s own, marking family abuse as gravely wrong Sahih Muslim 263.