Tag Archives: Suffering

Skeptics Answered: Through the Dark Mystery of Evil

(Author’s note: This continues a series answering objections to the Christian worldview.  A week or two ago I made a call for folks to send me their “best shot.” For the other posts in the series, simply follow the links and the pingbacks in the comments section.)

See parts I, II, and III in this series.

When it comes to objections to the existence and goodness of God, the “problem of evil” pops up the most often.  Sometimes it is merely a smokescreen to suppress the truth, but other times it is a real doubt in reaction to real pain.

It can be difficult to affirm the goodness of God if your fiance’ perished on September 11.

Our hearts ached in reaction to the men and women who died in the Columbine massacre; many of these men and women were in the prime of their lives.

If a loved one died in the Tsunami in India, it all seems so gratuitous and undeserved.

With events like these, we quite understandably cry “why, God?”

…but.

I wonder: why do we never utter that cry when the evil makes us feel good?  What about all the lies uttered on September 11?  What about the affairs consumated the same day as the Tsunami?  What about all the college students who cheated on their exams that semester, leaping over those who earned their grade by honest means?  What about when we backstab others?  What about when we ignore the pleas of the homeless?  What about our deaf ears to the cries of the unborn slaughtered by a pair of forceps?

I don’t see any “why God?” headlines when it comes to those things.

Despite the fact that some are honestly wrestling with this problem, we have a huge blind spot.  There’s a bit of hypocrisy in our questioning.  The problem of evil, you see, is bigger than our objections; it includes what God objects to as well.

When seen in this light, it becomes clear that we, too, are outlaws.  We are part of the problem.  As C.S Lewis once quipped, “If God got rid of all the evil tonight at Midnight, where would you or I be at 12:01?”

To illustrate, consider my students.  Every year about midway through, I give them a writing assignment: what do you think I need to do to improve the classroom?  One of the most common answers goes something like, “don’t tolearate the kids who disrupt.  Kick them out of class.”  I am always amused at this answer, for many of the kids who write that are the clowns that are doing the disrupting.  They can’t conceive that I’d ever round them up too.

This shows that God is not unwilling or unable to deal with evil.  Trust me, one day He will, and it will be a complete job.  What keeps the hammer of His justice from falling is not callousness or aloofness, but patience.  He is giving us time to repent and accept His solution, Jesus.

Also keep in mind that the picture of God we see in Jesus is of a God who is near.  He does not stand at a distance, clucking disapproval or mystically staring into space.  God, in Christ, has played the game of life by His own rules.  As the book of Hebrews points out, Jesus is a High Priest that can sympathize with us in our weakness, because He has gone through it all, but without sin.

The shortest sentence in the Bible, “Jesus wept,” demonstrates a profound truth: God, in Christ, felt pain.  This is confirmed all over the Bible.

Countless brothers and sisters in Christ have entered into this truth in deep and mind-boggling ways.  As they continue to praise God in the midst of intense suffering, their experience of Christ deepens.  Their eyes often betray a love and intensity of relationship with Christ that cannot be had in a time of comfort.  This is something they would not trade for the world.
I can only marvel at the lives of these brothers and sisters.

We also must take note that if the Christian worldview is true, evil and suffering is not the final answer.  We experience in this age, but it’s reign is only temporal.  There is resurrection after the suffering of the cross.  The hope of the empty tomb is a hope that is unique to the movement started by Christ.

I am convinced that outside of Christ, there is nothing but despair in reaction to evil and suffering.  Without Christ, evil and suffering makes life utterly absurd.  But praise God, literally, that Jesus is risen indeed!

The cross puts the Christian answer head and shoulders above the answer atheism gives to evil.  Evil and suffering is a problem for *every* worldview, you know.  Atheist Bertrand Russell once famously quipped, “how could someone speak of God at the bedside of a dying child?”

William Lane Craig’s answer to Russell’s question shows the stark contrast between worldviews: “what would the atheist say?  Bum deal?  That’s the way it goes?  Sorry, too bad?”

Touche’.

All the atheist has is, “bummer.”  It’s all just DNA causing things and atoms colliding.  There isn’t even real evil on the atheistic worldview.  It’s such a polemical shot in the foot that I wonder why they press the issue so hard with Christians.

But Christians can speak of an empty tomb, and, as we will find out later, this is no placebo hope.

Elie Wiesel, in his holocaust memoir Night, tells of an excruciating execution he witnessed while encamped at one of the prison camps.  Along with the other prisoners, he witnessed the hanging of three young men.  The first two died quickly, but the third one, a particularly young boy, struggled in the noose, because of his light weight.  Behind him in the crowd, Wiesel heard one prisoner utter the questions, “where is God in all of this?”  Wiesel’s answer? “He is there, hanging on the gallows.”**

That was Wiesel’s artful way of saying that was the moment when he lost faith in God…but I daresay that his words had a deep truth of which he was not aware.

In the cross and empty tomb, to paraphrase Ravi Zacharias, He has not conquered in spite of the dark mystery of evil; He has conquered through it.

Check out this very pertinent video of Ravi Zacharias treatment of the existential side of this issue:

Author note: in writing this post, I consulted Greg Koukl’s excellent response to the problem of evil.

**Zacharias makes capital of this passage in many of his treatments of the problem.

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Skeptics Answered: Evidential Problem of Evil

(Author’s note: This continues a series answering objections to the Christian worldview.  A week or two ago I made a call for folks to send me their “best shot.” For the other posts in the series, simply follow the links and the pingbacks in the comments section.)

Another form of the problem of evil is the evidential problem of evil.  This argument takes several incarnations.  Some are more ambitious than others, and some focus on a particular form of evil, while others point to evil in general.   They all have three things in common:

1) They purport to show that, while the existence of evil might be logically compatible with the existence of God (defined as a maximally perfect being worthy of worship…sorta redundant, but whatever), the existence of evil nevertheless counts as evidence against theism.

2) They attempt to show that there exists of some amount of gratuitous, unneeded evil.  They all hold the premise that “there probably exists some form, type, or pattern of evil that is gratuitous.”

3) They all start by putting the positive evidence for theism aside.  “If the playing field were equal,” they ask, “how does the existence of gratuitous evil tip the scale?”  They all find it tips the scale in favor of atheism.

Notice that this argument is weaker in its scope–it deals in probabilities, not lock-tight verified conclusions.  This makes it somewhat tricky to answer–and to argue.

William Rowe has put forth the argument like so:

  1. There exist instances of intense suffering which an omnipotent, omniscient being could have prevented without thereby losing some greater good or permitting some evil equally bad or worse.
  2. An omniscient, wholly good being would prevent the occurrence of any intense suffering it could, unless it could not do so without thereby losing some greater good or permitting some evil equally bad or worse.
  3. (Therefore) There does not exist an omnipotent, omniscient, wholly good being.

In arguing for premise one, he utilizes two examples as representative cases of certain kinds of evil: “Bambi” and “Sue.” (I am using the terms William Alston employs..they are better than simply “E1″ and “E2.”)

Bambi:

“In some distant forest lightning strikes a dead tree, resulting in a forest fire. In the fire a fawn is trapped, horribly burned, and lies in terrible agony for several days before death relieves its suffering”

Sue:

“This is an actual event in which a five-year-old girl in Flint, Michigan was severely beaten, raped and then strangled to death early on New Year’s Day in 1986. The case was introduced by Bruce Russell (1989: 123), whose account of it, drawn from a report in the Detroit Free Press of January 3 1986, runs as follows:

The girl’s mother was living with her boyfriend, another man who was unemployed, her two children, and her 9-month old infant fathered by the boyfriend. On New Year’s Eve all three adults were drinking at a bar near the woman’s home. The boyfriend had been taking drugs and drinking heavily. He was asked to leave the bar at 8:00 p.m. After several reappearances he finally stayed away for good at about 9:30 p.m. The woman and the unemployed man remained at the bar until 2:00 a.m. at which time the woman went home and the man to a party at a neighbor’s home. Perhaps out of jealousy, the boyfriend attacked the woman when she walked into the house. Her brother was there and broke up the fight by hitting the boyfriend who was passed out and slumped over a table when the brother left. Later the boyfriend attacked the woman again, and this time she knocked him unconscious. After checking the children, she went to bed. Later the woman’s 5-year old girl went downstairs to go to the bathroom. The unemployed man returned from the party at 3:45 a.m. and found the 5-year old dead. She had been raped, severely beaten over most of her body and strangled to death by the boyfriend.”

Rowe argues that since we don’t know of any goods that would possibly justify God allowing cases like Bambi and Sue, it’s likely that no reasons actually exist.  He seems to be asking the rhetorical question, “what could possibly justify God permitting that?”

What can the Christian and/or theist say in response?

First, this argument is normally considered apart from other evidences and arguments for God’s existence.  Those who put forth the evidential argument from evil ask us to put aside the other arguments and ask: “all things being equal, how does gratuitous evil tip the scales?”  I find this to be a bit of jerry-rigging, for in doing so, the atheist is attempting to take away some key points from the theist.

When the cumulative case has had its day, the evidential argument doesn’t seem as powerful, for the other evidences and arguments serve to countermand the weight of this argument…more on that cumulative case later.

Second, keep in mind that no matter how intractable this problem is for the theist, the atheist is in quite a bigger pickle.  On an atheistic worldview, some existence of “evil” might make us feel bad, and we might want to say “I would never do or allow that,” but that is where it stops.  In the end, objectively, it’s just stuff, just flotsam and jetsam.  The moment an atheist calls something “wicked” or “unjust” objectively, she is borrowing capital from a theistic worldview.   She can know what is good and evil epistemologically, but grounding her judgments metaphysically is quite difficult.

Third, we must question the inference from

1) there are no goods we know of that would justify God allowing gratuitous evil.

to

2) it is likely that no such goods exist

Our perspective is quite limited.  God’s is not.  Simple as that.  He has a perch and a perspective we lack.  We find this in the human world all the time.  As 4 year old kid sick with Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever, I had no idea why I was receiving a spinal tap.  All I knew is that it hurt like the dickens.  My parents, on the other hand, had more knowledge, and this knowledge justified them allowing me to get stuck by long needles in my spine.

We lack reason to suppose we have a sufficient grasp of wisdom in our relationship with God.  Our grasp of the reasons God has for permitting what seems to us as gratuitous is analogous to my grasp of my parents reasons for allowing the spinal tap.

One might respond that in those situations, we don’t have the expectation to be able to grasp the full knowledge, but with God, we should expect such.  As a 4 year old kid, I should not expect to understand even a smidgeon of what my parents understand, and it is the same with us and God.

This, however, is hasty.  Neophytes do, indeed, have such expectations often.  As a beginning teacher, you bet I expected to be able to grasp why the vets did what they did.  When I found myself baffled, in my pride I judged them as incapable teachers.

Lets just say that experience and a few hard knocks in the classroom have proven my judgment wrong.  We have false expectations all the time, and there’s no reason to assume it’s any different with God.

Some may also respond with: “if my kid suffers from the same fate as Sue, isn’t it reasonable to at least expect God to reveal His reasons for permitting that?”

Short response: no.  Again, going back to the analogies used, sometimes, when I questioned my father, his response was “because I’m your dad.”  If he explained it to me, it would make matters worse (a few arguments with a foolhardy teenager will convince you of this.  I, too, doubted it…until I tried to teach a room full of foolhardy teenagers.).  I see no reason for us to foist an obligation of revelation upon God, at least this side of eternity.

What about comfort?  Should we expect God to comfort us when we experience severe evil and suffering?

Stay tuned for the next installment!!!

In writing this post, I liberally used the Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy’s entry on the evidential problem of evil.

Taking a Break…be Right Back

Note: I’m getting home a little late tonight, and don’t have time to put up a post continuing the “Skeptics Answered” thread.  I’ll try to get a post up Friday night or Saturday.  I apologize for being a bit slow.

In the meantime, check out two of Greg Koukl’s many short videos on the subject of evil and suffering:

Skeptics Answered: Evil=Evidence *for* God

(Author’s note: This continues a series answering objections to the Christian worldview.  A week or two ago I made a call for folks to send me their “best shot.” For the other posts in the series, simply follow the pingbacks in the comments section.)

Yesterday I began to answer the “problem of evil.” Today I am going to continue that thread and discuss the meaning of “evil.”  Pinpointing the nature of evil is crucial, for the whole problem turns on what evil actually is.

Here are a few different non-theistic, atheistic, or naturalistic definitions:

Some think that morality (this would include “evil”) is determined by societal convention.  On this view, evil would be tantamount to crossing a social taboo or norm.

This does not suffice, though, for that’s like someone arguing that God doesn’t exist because a person decided to drive on the left side as opposed to the right side of the road.

Others think that morality is a matter of personal preference.  Here, when I say “X is evil,” it means that I personally don’t like X or I find X distasteful.   Some even go so far as to make moral statements totally emotive, so when I say “Bush is evil,” that means nothing more than “ugh, Bush!”

Again, this does not satisfy.  That is like the following conversation:

“God doesn’t exist.”

Why?

“Fish sticks!”

What?  Fish sticks?

“Yeah, seriously!  You ever get a load of those things?”

You’ve got to do better than that.

A third alternative is to point to naturalistic evolution in defining morality.  This seems to be Richard Dawkins’ preferred route.

Like the others, though, this falls short, for on this view, evil is something which doesn’t help the species (or individual, as some have defined it) survive.  Things that nature doesn’t select might indeed be big bummers for our species, but why think that’s some horrible thing such that God’s existence is in doubt?

In addition, this view of morality leaves out a key feature: the prescriptive nature of morality.  All this view can do is describe behavior that humans have come to call “moral.”  It cannot prescribe a moral obligation.  Obligation is something that’s central to morality, so this view guts morality and changes it into something entirely different.

For the objection of evil to work, evil has to be a deeply true, objective, meaningful feature of our world.  The options above will not suffice.  Classically defined, evil is a privation, or a lack of something.  It is not a substance that somehow morphs onto something.  Think of it like cold (the absence of heat) or a shadow (absence of light).

But, evil cannot exist in a vacuum.  Just as a shadow presupposes something called light, evil presupposes goodness, from which evil departs.

Greg Koukl puts it this way:

To say something is evil is to make a moral judgment, and moral judgments make no sense outside of the context of a moral standard. Evil as a value judgment marks a departure from that standard of morality. If there is no standard, there is no departure.

Evil can’t be real if morals are relative. Evil is real, though. That’s why people object to it. Therefore, objective moral standards must exist as well. This discovery invites certain questions. Where do morals come from and why do they seem to apply only to human beings? Are they the product of chance? What world view makes sense out of morality?

Where’d this “good” come from?  That’s the question, for it needs a grounding as well.

Some try to ground goodness in nature or some platonic heaven.  I don’t think this works, obviously.

Morality is quite a recalcitrant fact in a naturalistic universe.  J.L Mackie famously noted:

If there were objective values, then they would be entities or qualities or relations of a very strange sort, utterly different from anything else in the universe.

In other words, how could a purposeless, valueless, mindless process puke out a totally physical universe compelled by physical laws *and* intrinsically valuable human beings?  Something doesn’t fit.  In the grand scheme of things, if naturalism is true, we inhabit a meaningless existence on a speck of dust we call “earth.”  This speck of dust is doomed to either heat death or the opposite sometime in the future.  We are no qualitatively different than a bag of snakes.  We might be functionally more complicated, but this is quite a different matter, and besides, grounding value in function leads to all sorts of absurd conclusions.

Where is there room for real objective value?  Remember, the social convention view does not produce real, objective value, only subjective, convenient rules that help us get along.

No matter what you call it (value, moral laws, commands, moral prescriptions, etc), those can only come from intelligent minds.  Morality has an oughtness to it: deep down, we sense an obligation to obey.  It’s not just a good suggestion.  If you do something evil, you have dones something more egregious than flout the herd mentality.

Think about this illustration that I borrow from Greg Koukl:

Say you spill your alphabet soup one night.  You look down and see the sentence, “do not eat” on the floor.  Would you be obligated to obey that?  No.  It has no force behind it.  Likewise, if I hopped on my bike, went “woo, woo, woo,” and tried to pull you over on the road, you would not be obligated to obey, because I don’t have the proper authority.

To conclude, the presence of evil in the world points to the existence of real goodness in the world.  The best explanation for that goodness is that an intelligent mind with proper authority imbued the world with it.  Thus, the person who pushes the argument from evil actually is in the sticky position of assuming what he’s trying to disprove.  The objection needs the existence of God to even get off the ground.

It is not a good thing when you have to borrow capital like that.

In response, some push a modified “Euthyphro” argument, attempting to sever God from morality.  I have never been impressed with this response.  Paul Copan gives an excellent reply (reply to the Euthyphro argument comes at the end of the paper.  The whole thing is about the failure of naturalism in its grounding of a robust morality.  It’s excellent; read the whole thing.).

Tomorrow I will continue with the series by examining the evidential problem of evil, followed by some pastoral comments on suffering.  Answers to other objections will come after that!

Here are some other resources that you can consult on the logical problem of evil:

Koukl on evil

God, Morality, and Evil: the Bill Craig-Kai Nielsen debate

The Indispensability of Theological Meta-Ethical Foundations for Morality

Check out my related posts:

Book Review: The God Delusion, by Richard Dawkins

Book Review: God is not Great, by Christopher Hitchens

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Seven Pounds

***Warning: Spoilers ahead***

Wow! What a movie. You need to go see it if you haven’t already.sevenpounds

This is not an action-packed thriller, nor will it garner Oscars for its special effects. Seven Pounds does not spell everything out for you; you will have to really be paying attention at times to follow it, because certain key parts are subtle. If you are the ADD movie-going type, you might be easily bored.

It’s not a feel good movie either.

Why am I still going ga-ga about it, then? It makes you think, that’s why. Even though I called the ending pretty quickly, it kept throwing me curve balls to make me doubt my guess.

While watching Ben Thomas make the ultimate sacrifice, I wondered: would I have the courage to do the same for someone I love? At first glance, I thought “of course!” After it really sunk in, though, the question really gave me pause: would I really? I won’t ultimately know until and unless I’m confronted with such a choice. Cowardice and self-centeredness often lurks in hidden corners until just the right time.

Thinking about that question really made me take stock of my character and backbone.

There are other questions the movie addresses that it leaves unanswered. Why, ultimately, did Ben give so much for seven strangers? Was it guilt? Or, in the end, was it love? Just how much redemption does Ben achieve? Does his own sacrifice bring him emotional peace? The answers are quite ambiguous.

The movie is a true gut-wrencher. Seeing Ben (Tim) constantly sacrifice his well being for the sake of others he doesn’t know stirred my soul. Even though his efforts are awkward and stalker-esque at times, I shed tears, which doesn’t happen too often at the movies. Even though you won’t walk out of the theater gushing with joy, Ben Thomas’ sacrifice, on some level, is truly beautiful and inspiring.

Many reviewers have knocked the film for its unrealistic nature. My thoughts: meh. As one commenter noted, unrealistic is the currency of Hollywood. We buy a vigilante billionaire disguised as a gigantic bat, but we can’t buy Ben Thomas’ quest? Need we be so fickle?

I’m not that hard to please. Just have some decent acting, avoid pounding me with an uber-liberal sermon, and avoid setting fire to straw men in said sermonizing, and I’m satisfied.

Ben is a man wrestling with demons. I mean this guy is in torment. In the end, as a way to find freedom (or, as I alluded to earlier, was he acting out of love at the end?), he willingly lays down his life so that another can live. He literally gave his heart to a woman in need. I couldn’t help but think of Christ in this. He, too, laid down His life so that His beloved can live in eternity. We have bad hearts in need of replacement. Not just repair, mind you: our hearts are dead. Only heart replacement surgery will do. In the act of faith, His heart becomes ours.

The analogy is imperfect, yes (Ben: sinner looking for redemption. Jesus: sinless, only giver 0f redemption. Ben: gives based on merit. Christ: while we were yet sinners, He died for us. And there’s that whole resurrection-defeat-of-death-and-sin thing.), but a likeness is there.

Another question the film brought up is, “how do you react to loss and trauma?” Ben and Emily react to the trauma in their lives in very different ways. Unlike Ben, Emily still has joy. Thus, in their relationship, even though Ben gives the ultimate sacrifice, Emily enriches Ben’s life in a subtle, yet significant way. She, too, has a gift to give.

At bottom, Ben is searching for two things: redemption, and goodness in others. Is he successful in his twofold mission?

That depends. Ultimately and eternally, of course, he doesn’t redeem himself. In God’s court, no good deed, no matter how big, can erase our debt. We already owe God goodness, and you can’t pay for your rap sheet with what you already owe. Only Christ can eradicate our debt.

But was Ben searching for salvation? No. I didn’t get the sense that he was searching for divine forgiveness. He was merely trying to find peace with himself. The guilt he carried from literally wrecking seven lives drove his mission to give back.

Still, though, first things first: peace with oneself and with others starts vertically, not horizontally. Thus, there would be no better place for Ben than the foot of the cross.

Ben was also searching for some good in others. This is something he ultimately found in the likes of Emily and Ezra. One need not embrace the idea that we are born good in order to see this. Were we to ask Ben, for instance, I’m sure he would readily acknowledge that humans are quite flawed.

The divine spark, though dimmed by sin, still resides in us, though. We steep to such great depths, but we are also capable of so much good. That is part of the imago dei. Even in a dark, fallen, and evil universe, it still shines brightly. Ben found that in a unexpected and unassuming place.

Lots of questions. Few answers. Go see it anyway. We need that sometimes.

Check out these other related posts:

The Gospel of Will Smith

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John Piper is Bad

But I love the guy….

I hope that I have this strength when pain and suffering come knocking at my door (Piper walks his talk: he has battled cancer):