The essay you are about to read was written as my final paper in my
Honors Bible class. At first, I intended
it to be a mere summary of my previously posted essay, “A Response to the
Problem of Evil”, with a few useful, albeit less impactful, new insights added
to cover the space remaining after that summary. But after honestly thinking it through and
writing the essay as thoughtfully as I could, I ended up bringing out insights
which I thought to be rather enlightening, and I desire greatly to publish
those insights. Furthermore, this essay
has a much different tone in comparison to the former; the first half, which
merely summarizes “A Response to the Problem of Evil”, is intellectual, but the
second half is more pastoral. I have
always been taught, through my Honors Bible class, that there are two halves to
the whole problem of evil: the logical
problem and the emotional problem. Unlike my previous essay on the matter, which
largely addressed only the former problem, this essay intends to address each problem
in turn.
Wednesday, April 29, 2015
2) Engaging the Problem of Evil: Introduction
I can see it now – a meme which communicates with wit and wisdom the
problem with which we are currently confronted, “One does not simply: solve the
problem of evil.” I therefore do not set
out to, in this single essay, solve – with irrevocable decisiveness – the
problem of pain and evil in the world.
That is simply an impossibility.
But even if we cannot solve
the problem of evil, perhaps we can at minimum engage it, or somehow do something to mitigate it. We might just as soon try to swim up a
waterfall, but we will try it all the same.
Have you something better to do?
Do you rather recommend that we shut up, take it, and give up? I’ll not be struck down so easily, even by so
surpassingly great a problem. Having
been equipped with a few philosophical tricks by the highly recommendable book God and Evil, in addition to plenty of
personal experience, the following is my engagement of the problem of evil.
3) Engaging the Problem of Evil: The "Standard "Argument
First off, it seems to me rather obvious that the existence God cannot be
objected to on evil’s account. Quite the
contrary: evil cannot exist unless our beginning assumption is that God exists. I have already argued this more extensively
elsewhere[1],
and it is not the first time that such an argument has been presented[2]. For now, we’ll have to do with a sharp and
concise summary of that argument, due to space constraints.
It seems to me
obvious that evil requires some standard of good; evil might be perfectly and
completely described as non-good, and in order to do that, we need some
standard of what good is. If evil is
that which is undesirable, we need a standard of what is desirable. If evil is injustice, we need a standard of justice. What we are interested with at present is the
particular qualities that this standard must possess in order to make sense of
evil.
First off, is the
standard objective or subjective? Is it
wholly independent of what others think about it or is it wholly determined by
what people make of it? We can clearly
conclude it to be the former for three reasons: 1) if evil is subjective, the
Atheist’s objection against God on its account falls flat on the floor. I have a few more insights to supply about
this later. 2) There is not a person on
earth who thinks that he is perfect; the one who does, we call “insane”. As such, there is in fact no person capable
of properly judging what is and is not evil.
The standard which judges whether or not something is evil cannot itself
contain a shred of evil; if it did, then by what standard should we say that that standard had been judged to contain
evil? We’d have an endless recession of
almost-but-not-quite-good standards. The
imperfection of man proves that there is some standard of good undetermined by
man himself from which he has fallen short.
3) If something is perfectly subjective, then it does not exist. What I mean to say in relation to goodness is
that there can be no coherent idea of goodness if it is perfectly subjective to
what someone says about it. Picture a
world full of mirrors and only mirrors.
Boggling as it is to realize, such a world has no color. The color in this world is perfectly subjective, but until any objective color is introduced, there is
still no color.
Second, is the
objective standard natural or supernatural?
Clearly the latter. When the
Atheist says that evil exists, it is more accurate to say that he is saying
that evil exists in the natural world. Note that this means that the whole natural
world is being compared to a standard of good.
And if the standard itself also exists in the natural world, we make the
following claims:
1. Everything in the
natural world is being compared to an objective standard of good
2. The objective
standard of good is in the natural world
3. Therefore, the
objective standard of good is being compared to itself
It is imperative that we opt out of this
argument because its conclusion is an absurdity; something cannot be compared
to itself simply by virtue of what comparison is. We cannot say that the conclusion does not
logically follow – the argument is valid.
Now, are the premises true?
Clearly, we cannot deny premise (1).
If mankind were to, say, fly billions of light years to another planet
and populate there, surely evil would still be a problem. There is, however, no good reason why we
cannot deny premise (2) by stating that the objective standard of good is, in
fact, in the supernatural world. We therefore conclude that the objective
standard of good is supernatural.
One last qualifier
must be brought up for this objective, supernatural standard. One thing which it makes us aware of is moral evil. The standard, therefore, must be a measure of
moral good. But moral evil is, in fact,
an abuse of free will; moral evil does not exist in the absence of free will. Furthermore, you cannot be morally good
without free will; someone who does something good mechanistically is not being
morally good. We are therefore forced to conclude that the
objective, supernatural standard has a
will of its own, and it always uses this will for good. Otherwise, we wouldn’t know that man’s will
was off kilter.
In conclusion, we
have an objective, supernatural standard of good with a will of its own. In other words, we have the theistic God!
4) Engaging the Problem of Evil: the Pain of Evil Argument
Another line of argumentation before changing moods. In the paragraphs above, I said that Atheists
cannot object to God’s existence on account of subjective evil. I’d here like to unpack that concept a little
further, because I believe that it can provide for us some serious and
practical insights. I here state that
unless God is in the picture, evil does not hurt enough to object to God on its
account.
Now, in a world
without God, evil might, at best, be decided some set of objective, immutable
principles – much like the laws of physics and mathematics – which can be
scrutinized by deeper human reason[1]. But if that is really all that evil is, then
it does not hurt very much at all. To
say that Hitler, Stalin, etc. aligned their lives with this set of inherently
“wrong” principles rather than that set of inherently “right” principles gives
us a kind of evil which really isn’t very difficult to put up with. You might just as soon be personally hurt and upset when an
astrophysicist gets his sums wrong. This
kind of evil does not hurt enough to object to the theist’s worldview on its
account.
But let’s just say, for the sake of argument, that there
exists a single, immutable Omnibenevolence which has decreed man to be
benevolent to his fellow creatures. In
such a world, evil would be very
personal. Not only would each act of
evil be a trespass against the Omnibenevolence – it would be a gross trespass
of man against his fellow man, especially since the Omnibenevolence decrees that
he is being quite worthy of benevolence from his fellow creature. Evil, in this model, is brutally defiant of
Goodness itself and dehumanizing to the fellow man.
I want to make sure that these next points are extremely
clear; their importance is instrumental in understanding the problem of
evil. If this model is true, then evil hurts enough for the Atheist to deny
that God exists. If the Atheists are
right – if evil hurts as much as they say it does – then they have every right
to challenge God’s existence. I readily
concede that. But evil can only hurt as much as the Atheist says it does if this
model is true, and if this model is true, then we know for a fact that God exists
– he would be the Omnibenevolence, of course.
The Atheist can only object to God’s existence if evil hurts to x
degree, but evil can only hurt to x degree if God exists[2].
[1]
Note that this conception of morality does not well account for moral
imperatives; again, see essays 14 and 15 in God
and Evil for more discussion on this.
[2]
Essay 13 in God and Evil unpacks
insights similar to these arguments, “Only a fully biblical view of theism that
upholds the purity and holiness of God and the irreparably devastating nature
of evil can present the problem in all of its force.”
5) Engaging the Problem of Evil: a Rejoinder
Oh, how well the theist’s position is defended by the
very thing which seeks to destroy it: evil!
In conclusion, it seems to me obvious that imperfection implies
perfection. If we are to say that the
world is imperfect, we assume the existence of the perfect world (heaven). If we are to say that people are imperfect, we
assume the existence of the perfect Person (God). If we are to say that relationships between
persons are imperfect, we assume the existence of the perfect Relationship
between perfect Persons (the Trinity).
Whether or not God exists, therefore, cannot be the
center of the issue. That question is
thrown out; evil could not possibly hurt as much as it does unless there was
some immutable, omnibenevolent God, and we were all, in any sense you wish to
take it, a family under Him. Evil could
not rip our hearts out as much as it does without this sense of unification across
persons and universal accountability before God. What, therefore, is the center of the issue?
Why do Atheists struggle to trust God in the face of evil?
I have thought long and hard about this one, only to
realize that I should not expect an answer.
Every Atheist has his reasons for objecting to God’s existence; indeed,
even Christians do! It’s not as if everyone will have the same
reasons; to suggest otherwise is quite foolish.
But I do think that there are some underlying principles beneath the
denial of God on evil’s account, and while it may indeed be true that a person
honestly thinks that there is a logical
tension between the existence of evil and a perfectly good God, this tension is
so easily resolved that we can plainly see how it is not the center of the
issue. Clearly, the cardinal tension between
God and evil is emotional.
6) Engaging the Problem of Evil: Defining the Emotional Problem
My investigation for the center (if not one of the many
“centers”) of the problem of evil began with the recognition of a certain
pattern within the internal dialogue of the book God and Evil itself. A great
many chapters followed the general shell of the Atheist claiming, “Clearly, no
all-good, all-powerful God exists because blah blah blah,” followed by the
Christian response, “I see what you mean, Mr. Atheist, but it is quite possible
that God had perfectly good reasons for allowing blah blah blah.”[1] It is noteworthy that we are not, in such
instances, debating with hard-and-fast logic, but much more on the grounds of
inductive reasoning and probability. In
other words, there is a surprising amount of subjectivity to the situation.
The Christian considers it quite plausible that God has his reasons; the
Atheist does not. One considers evil to
be quite worth it; the other does not.
Who is right?
Technically, both are. Bearing in
mind that both positions acknowledge that God exists, since that is the
required presupposition in order to get the concept of evil off the ground,
each position on the “worth it” value of evil is, in fact, intellectually feasible. A cynical
theist has valid reasons for thinking
that evil is not worth it. The Christian
has valid reasons for thinking to the
contrary. However, investigation should
tell us that only the latter of the two positions is emotionally feasible.
Now, whatever we think of God, we are forced on all
sides to acknowledge that he believed that evil was worth it. Why so?
Consider if God created a world within which he knew that evil would
emerge and further believed that evil would not
be worth it in such a world. Such a God
would clearly not be omnibenevolent. But
hold – once again, we are bringing in some standard of omnibenevolence and
comparing it to this less-than-perfect God.
We end up with an endless recession of almost-but-not-quite-good
standards once again. God is necessarily perfect; if he is imperfect,
then he is being compared to a standard of perfection which is more worthy of
being called “God”. And in order for God
to be perfect, he had to think that evil was worth it when he created a world
within which evil emerged.
Therefore, the insistence of the cynical theist that
evil is not worth it is revealed to be contrary to the analysis of a Being with
far greater knowledge – infinitely greater knowledge, in fact – than the
cynic. This simply won’t do. If a Being with infinite knowledge makes an
assessment on something, the attempt of a being with pitifully less knowledge
to make a different assessment on the matter demonstrates a degree of arrogance,
despair, cynicism, and denial capable of tearing the soul asunder. A theist should
think that evil is worth the accompanied good, not because the position is more
intellectually true than the other,
but because doing so demonstrates an emotionally
healthy degree of humility and self-knowledge.
The fact of the matter is that if God, a Being of infinite perfection
and wisdom, thought that evil was worth it, then I, a being of imperfection and
fallible knowledge, should probably agree.
We therefore conclude that the emotional problem of evil
results when one disagrees with God about whether or not evil is worth it, and
is solved when that individual realizes that only agreement with God in regards
to evil can steer one clear of being emotionally shipwrecked by arrogance,
despair, and the like.
This is a summary of the issue: the acknowledgment of
evil logically requires the acknowledgment of God. But it does not logically require one to agree with God’s decisions regarding
evil. If the logic has been demonstrated
to a man, yet still he holds to the conviction that evil is not worth it, he is
sold to his pride and anger towards God and, more depressingly, his despair
towards evil. He has thrown up his
hands, thrown in the towel, cried Uncle; he has simply and decisively given up and surrendered to the problem
of evil. The Christian, on the other
hand, has accepted that evil is worth it and that God has his reasons. He too has, in a sense, given up, but not
towards the horror of evil as opposed to the wisdom of God. It is the latter, and not the former, who has
the fortitude required to thrive in the face of evil.
[1]
the first 10 chapters of God and Evil
follow this pattern particularly closely, with other chapters sharing this
posture to varying degrees
7) Engaging the Problem of Evil: Conclusion
I conclude with one last pastoral reflection. The fourth paragraph up, I argued that God
had to have believed that evil was worth it in order to qualify as
perfect. That argument was made on the
assumption that it is, in fact, metaphysically possible for evil to outdo good
in terms of worth. I’m not so certain
that this is even a metaphysical possibility.
A single shred – the tiniest grain of true joy – is worth even an
infinity of evil and transgression. If
there is no good, then there can be no evil, and if there is even a shred of
true good, then no amount of evil that results can overturn it. The Psalmist seemed to express similar
sentiments, “Better is one day in your courts than a thousand elsewhere” (Ps.
84:10 NIV). C. S. Lewis, through the
characters in his narrative The Great
Divorce, communicates insights that are well in agreement:
And yet all
loneliness, angers, hatreds, envies and itchings that [Hell] contains, if
rolled into one single experience and put into the scale against the least
moment of the joy that is felt by the least in Heaven, would have no weight
that could be registered at all. Bad
cannot succeed even in being bad as truly as good is good. If all Hell’s miseries together entered the
consciousness of yon wee yellow bird on the bough there, they would be
swallowed up without trace, as if one drop of ink had been dropped into that
Great Ocean to which your terrestrial Pacific itself is only a molecule.[1]
There is, therefore,
reason for optimism. For we are in the
hands of some kind of Something which we have an idea in our minds about;
something which, through our knowledge of it, allows us to discern that our
world is truly fallen. And if it is
fallen, then there is a Height from which it fell. And if there is a Height from which it fell,
then we must entertain the hope of returning to that Height, or else perish in
absolute despair. Christianity presents
to us a chilling story of this fall, a maddening picture of the Height from
which we fell (maddening because it is so surpassingly beautiful), and a
glorious hope in the Resurrection, through which we might rise up from the
depths into which we have fallen through the divine enigma that is Christ.
8) Engaging the Problem of Evil: Works Cited
Meister, Chad and James K. Dew Jr. God and Evil. Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 2013. Print
Lewis, C. S. The Great Divorce. New York: Harper Collins, 2001. Print.
New International Version. Korea: Holman Bible Publishers, 1999. Print.
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