Some Questions About the Problem of Evil
November 23, 2010
Okay, fellow humans, help me out with my quandry. Here is a brief overview of the problem of evil, and then some questions.
First, it is an old question. It constitutes one of those objections to our experiences as human beings that require an answer form every generation of Christians. In other words, there is more than one conceptual image at work. Simultaneously, the “problem of evil” demonstrates what seems like inconsistencies in the truth claims inherent in Christianity (specifically) and theism (generally). However, there is some evidence to suggest that the problem is unduly complicated by misunderstanding the nature of those truth claims. For example, in its classic formulation the problem of evil reads like this, “If God exists, then God is omnipotent, omniscient, and morally perfect. If God is omnipotent, then God has the power to eliminate all evil. If God is omniscient, then God knows when evil exists. If God is morally perfect, then God has the desire to eliminate all evil. Evil exists. If evil exists and God exists, then either God doesn’t have the power to eliminate all evil, or doesn’t know when evil exists, or doesn’t have the desire to eliminate all evil. Therefore, God doesn’t exist.” Perhaps a less technical, but sufficiently succinct way to put it is, “If God (who is completely good and powerful) exists, then how can evil also exist?” Clearly, this creates a neat little problem for Christians and theists. If you deny that evil exists, you seem foolish. If you deny that God is ultimately good or utterly powerful, you seem to be denying the concept of God. Consequently, the argument is set up as an “either/or” – either evil is real or God (as conceptualized by theism, especially Christianity) is real, because they cannot co-exist. This is a decidedly deductive construction of the problem. There are also inductive forms of the problem. In terms of theism, though, the ontological defense of God’s existence is valid and true (and convincing) – therefore, for a theist, inductive forms of the problem of evil and facts about evil “cannot constitute even prima facie arguments against the existence of God,” and are a moot point.
So, briefly, what are the ways in which theists have sought to unravel the apparent contradiction between these two facts?
First, some authors have suggested that suffering and evil are part of God’s plan in “building the soul” of a person. In other words, suffering and evil build endurance, patience, and faith. If you suffer, you are better for it. This, of course, is only as satisfying as the extent to which your imagination allows you to be comfortable. Surely, the suffering that an athlete in training endures is beneficial. The suffering a mother in child-birth endures is beneficial. However, do you think that a small child that suffers through Leukemia receives a benefit commensurate to her suffering? Do you believe that innocent Jews that suffered through the Holocaust and died were benefited from their suffering? So, the extent of the argument may only be appealing to the extent you see a benefit. What if, then, the benefit were eternal?
Second, some theists have tried to posit that “evil” is not a thing or being. It is a result of free will, and so the existence of evil is the consequence of God allowing humanity to have free will. Consequently, God created humanity in his image, and the result as a free agent that may and does choose to act in morally evil ways. Thus, the real conflict exists between God’s desire for humanity to reflect his glory, and for his plan for creation to be executed as conceived. God could force humanity to behave, but he would be violating his own will in providing humanity with a will. In other words, “good” is only good because evil is an option.
Third, and finally, the “Need for Natural Laws” is summarized by Michael Tooley:
“first, it is important that events in the world take place in a regular way, since otherwise effective action would be impossible; secondly, events will exhibit regular patters only if they are governed by natural laws; thirdly, if events are governed by natural laws, the operation of those laws will give rise to events that harm individuals; so, fourthly, God’s allowing natural evils is justified because the existence of natural evils is entailed by natural laws, and a world without natural laws would be a much worse world.”
This touches on Christian notions of Original Sin. When humanity exercised its free will against God’s will, it brought about certain changes in God’s creation that resulted in natural laws and states of affair that created patterns of destruction, violence, and suffering. Consequently, evil is only a problem in the temporal sense. Once Christ returns and sets everything to rights, there will be no “problem of evil” of which to speak. There is an infinitely good, knowledgeable, and powerful God that will have dealt justly with all the suffering and evil caused by humanity’s exertion of free will.
There are others, but I find something interesting in this whole debate. It is the designation of things and events as either “good” or “evil.” The reason I find it interesting is because the very notion of a “problem of evil” is designed to express the contradiction between the existence of a Christian God and the events we experience in life. However, the very language used to conceptualize the problem are dependent on the existence of said “morally good God.” If God did not exist, then neither would the moral designation of the good over and against that of evil. If there is no good God, can there even be evil? Of course, we wonder about the issue of suffering. What is our justification for giving moral designation to suffering? Am I suffering when I experience pain? If God does not exist, how would I have a standard of good by which I could compare the wrongness of suffering or the evilness of violence? How would an atheist that actually framed the question without presupposing that God exists maintain the tension of the original contradiction? Assume the atheist position is correct. There is no God. We have evolved socially, emotionally, morally, etc. If the notions of good and evil are both innate to the evolutionary process of humanity, how do we distinguish between them? Perhaps, I have unfairly changed the topic of the discussion, but I fail to see how the problem of evil exists without the existence of God. Doesn’t that mean that God has to exist?
A Terrifying Story of Ninjas, Waste Management and Theodicy
March 24, 2010
The worst chore I had growing up was taking out the trash. Not only did it happen right after dinner—thus interrupting the precious few hours I had for play before bed—it also involved, once a week, a particularly dangerous expedition. Eagan Waste Management would come for our dumpster early on Tuesday morning which meant that the bin needed to be brought out to the curb on Monday night. To my adolescent mind, the venture was frought with danger. Inevitably, my odyssey down the driveway was attempted at night, which meant I had to confront the dark. Our suburban home was not in a particularly dangerous neighborhood, but in my imagination the sinister picket fences and eerily silent rose bushes of suburbia could hide a kidnapper, a creature, a ninja—or any combination thereof. My defense eventually became routine: walk down the driveway singing or whistling, thus alerting whoever laid in wait for me that I was not afraid of them, deposit the trash bin carefully, and book it back to the garage in raw terror—(as casually as possible of course, in case the neighbors were watching).
For many years, this fear was a constant facet of my weekly ritual. As I grew older, I learned to reflect on this fear. I’d grown up in a Christian home and learned that God would protect me if I prayed. I knew that “all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose.” (Rom. 8:28). I knew that I should “fear no evil for [God] was with me” (Ps. 23.4). I was obeying my parents, after all (Ex. 20:12) and bad things didn’t happen to people who did the right thing. Regardless of how I rationalized it, when Monday night came, the darkness and the silence seemed much more persuasive.
As adults, we like to pretend we’ve grown out of such idle fears, when in reality the same questions have simply taken on more layers of nuance. “Why do bad things happen to good people?” is really just another way of asking “Can something bad happen to me if I don’t deserve it?” If we’re told God is in control, we expect God to act like the world is under control—which in our minds means behaving predictably and safely. Blaming or not blaming a natural disaster on God becomes the gratification of our own desire to find a scapegoat: If it’s Haiti’s fault, then they deserved it. If it’s God’s fault, then it was supposed to happen for some lofty reason we’ll never understand.
Just about the only intolerable answer to this question is chaos—that evil and suffering and pain exist not through something dreadfully sensible but because we live in a world where sometimes the innocent suffer and the guilty sip champagne. Such a chaotic reality threatens not only our view of God, but our own security. How can I insure myself against suffering if suffering knows no boundaries?
It is this awareness of chaos that makes us fear the darkness of our own front yards as we complete the daily chores of our lives. It is a pervasive, drowning reminder that any normal day can turn tragic for no apparent reason. Add to this human culpability: the realization that I have the power to make my neighbor miserable, and they have the power to do the same—and you have a genuine moral dilemma that refuses to ever be completed explained away.
Some of you reading this believe I am writing with too much desperation. “Shouldn’t a Christian speak with more hope?” you would ask me. I agree that as Christians, we carry a message of hope. I do not believe, however, that our hope is of the kind that ignores honest pain. I cannot ignore the very realy suffering this world endures—often without explanation. Fortunately for me, it is on account of the Gospel that I don’t have to let the senselessness of it consume me.
We do not speak the Gospel if we belittle suffering. But neither do we speak the Gospel if we neglect to proclaim our Christian confessions, of which I will now identify two: 1) God is sovereign. Regardless of your particular tradition, the Judeo-Christian heritage boldly proclaims that what God put into motion will never get out of hand. Creation was designed for a purpose and that purpose will be realized. It’s not our job to bring that realization about, but it is our privilege to participate in it if we like. 2) You and I are called to act righteously. Loving God and loving your neighbor are neither easy nor always simple commands—but they are clear. They are the decisions we make every day in our relationships, in our economics and in our worship.
Last Monday night I took my dog for a walk. It was dark and chilly and we had to set a quick pace to stay warm. The park was deserted that evening and the flickering street lamps and wafting wind gave the night a sense of ominous mystery. Nevertheless, I knew that the rustle in the bushes wasn’t an ambush but a fluttering leaf. The dark shadow in the distance shrouded no stalking beast, but a discarded toy. The sinister possibilities were gone and I was left feeling fearless and invulnerable—at least for that short walk. You’d think recognizing my maturity would’ve delighted me, but instead I was struck by an odd sense of loss. The world had lost some of its potentiality and with the absence of monsters and murderers went the possibility of astronauts and Jedis or any other of my wondrous childhood fantasies.
Does life’s chaos inevitably bring about good as well as bad? I don’t see why it shouldn’t. The God who is sovereign over hurricanes and heartbreak is also sovereign over sunrises and first kisses. This thought, of course, wont cover up the loss and pain each of us must experience as we live our lives but I believe it can provide perspective. Uncertainty breeds fear, I wont deny it. But for the Christian, uncertainty also brings hope for new life and new possibilities. For those prospects, I’ll gladly face whatever waits for me in the dark.
Tony Hunt
jstambaugh
Shawn Wamsley
