More on Evil

It is meaningful that I first encountered the problem of evil in a university classroom. I had a disgustingly happy childhood, an affliction that has stunted my development as an artist and as a scholar. It did not occur to me that the world could possibly constitute a case against the goodness of God; how could it? I had experienced mosquitoes, and I had read about famine and war, and I had cried at funerals, but the place I actually lived in was overwhelmingly marked with love and beauty; it was fitting and sensible to praise God for his goodness. I had to be told that the world was catastrophically rotten and twisted. I could not see it for myself; I was happy and that was all that mattered.

The University would not let me linger long in my comfortably limited reality, instead forcing the reality of suffering upon me with a bewildering force. “Where is your God?” they asked. “Where is the redemption of Auschwitz? Where is the justice that is the foundation of his kingdom? If the universe were governed by a God who is love, then love would not be so catastrophically scarce.”

It is easiest to see the problem of evil when it is expressed a technical claim against the existence of God. Specifically, the existence of evil makes the existence of a God who is all-powerful, all-loving and all-knowing logically impossible. If a set of premises embed a contradiction, then they cannot all be true. In this case, he is alleging that there is a contradiction because

a) if God were all-powerful, he could prevent evil if he wanted to
b) if God were all-knowing, he would know about the existence of evil
c) if God were all-loving, he would prevent any evil that he could.
d) Evil exists.

Remember that if there is a contradiction in a set of premises it means that they cannot all be true. Since we know that evil exists (we can see it) we know that the problem lies with a, b, or c. Thus, though God may be very powerful, he is not all-powerful; though he may be very intelligent, his not all-knowing; though he may be very loving, he is not omni-benevolent. If God is all three, then paradoxically, he does not exist. So which of the characteristics listed above are we going to sacrifice?

Philosophically, it doesn’t matter. It makes no difference at all. To human reasoners, and particularly believers, it is nothing matters more.

There is some question in the Bible as to whether God is all-powerful – Satan provides a very powerful opponent to God, and it appears that God allows humans free agency (we are allowed to do what we want, and sometimes we mess that up). As a result, God may be constrained – for the time being (and by his own decision) – to inaction. It is therefore reasonable to conjecture that God wants to fix the problem of evil, but cannot.

The idea that God is constrained may be offensive to some Christians – it was offensive to me when I first encountered it. But we are not approaching this question as Christians. We are approaching it as philosophers. It is an absolutely critical distinction – the standard of proof is different, the methods of discourse are different, what counts as evidence is different. You may have had an experience of God. You may have felt God’s presence; you may “know in your heart” that God loves you. Those feelings do not count to a philosopher. They don’t matter.

As a philosopher, I do not think that we are able to finish the sentence, “God can…” with just anything. For instance, I do not think that we can say, “God can act in a way that is contrary to his character,” or the famous “God can make a stone so big he can’t lift it.” There are some things that God cannot do. Perhaps, for instance, God cannot eliminate evil and allow for human free agency. It is possible that God has a “higher purpose”, some reason that he allows evil to continue.

Of course, we are back into “Why does God…” territory, but it seems less dangerous this time around because we’re talking as philosophers and theologians, not as human beings (strange that there is a distinction, but there is). What I mean is, there is a difference between the God of the philosophers and the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob; we are not talking about a God that is worthy of worship, or present in experience. We are just looking for a God we can give intellectual assent to. This difference is as profound as the difference between acknowledging the existence of women and getting married. The requirements of logic are not terribly rigorous. But logical possibility is not terribly satisfying. As far as I am concerned, it is not even worth discussing.