The Problem of Evil: A Theodicy, Part One.

The Problem of Evil is perhaps the single most difficult quandary for theologians and philosophers alike. This dilemma is the foremost reason for theological skepticism in the modern era-- and, indeed, of all time, dating back to at least the early Greek civilization in which a thinker by the name of Epicurus lived. The classical Problem of Evil, as given by Epicurus, is stated as follows: 

"Is God willing to prevent evil, but not able?
Then he is not omnipotent.
Is he able, but not willing?
Then he is malevolent.
Is he both able and willing?
Then whence cometh evil?
Is he neither able nor willing?
Then why call him God?"

Aside from what is commonly known as the "emotional" problem of evil, there is a seemingly air-tight"intellectual" problem of evil. As a young Christian theist, I myself am saddened by the obvious rise of atheism within my generation due to this intellectual problem. Many people think that the Problem of Evil simply leads to the conclusion that God does not exist-- or that if He does exist, He doesn't actually exist in the way that Christian theists claim. Those in my generation (or perhaps one before me) read the works of prominent "New Atheists" like Christopher Hitchens, Richard Dawkins, and Lawrence Krauss. That's all very well. I encourage people to read the works of prominent atheists. They provide intellectual stimulation and challenge our belief systems, which can be infinitely useful tools in strengthening faith and allowing us to refine and reconstruct our defense systems. However, I discourage people who intend to read only their books. That would promote complete and utter bias, which is something I strive to remove when discussing the intellectual questions about God. Therefore, in addition to the works of atheists, it is of utmost importance to read books written in defense of classical Christian theism. 

Epicurus' version of the dilemma is posed in a question format. When understood that way, it seems rather daunting. After all, if we are to answer Epicurus according to the choices he provides, we are thereby rendered unable to affirm classical theism. That's what makes the problem so difficult to the common man.

However, we may easily dissect Epicurus' questions in an Aristotelian logical syllogism. For those who are unfamiliar with Aristotelian logic, a classical syllogism is comprised of two premises and a conclusion. If both of the premises are true, and the logical form is valid, then it follows necessarily that the conclusion is true. However, if one or more of the premises are false, then the conclusion cannot be affirmed. Let's try to shed some light on the classical Problem of Evil by dissecting Epicurus' quandary. 

The first question Epicurus asks is this : "Is God willing to prevent evil but not able? Then He is not omnipotent." In logical form, the question would translate in this way: 

Premise 1: If God is willing to prevent evil, but is not able, he is not omnipotent.
Premise 2: God is willing to prevent evil, but is not able.
Conclusion: God is not omnipotent. 

If we are to accept both premises as true, then it follows necessarily that God is not omnipotent. This contradicts the classical concept of God, and would disprove theism... if not for an inherent untruth within the first premise. Interestingly enough, Epicurus loaded the dice, so to speak. He did so by sneaking in an a priori concept of omnipotence into the first premise. It can be stated as follows: "God is omnipotent if and only if God is able to prevent evil." This is a blatant lie. God need not be able to prevent evil to be omnipotent. You may ask, "Does not omnipotence mean the ability to do all things?" But I respond, "No. Omnipotence means the ability to do all things that are possible." In order to prove that God is not omnipotent by Epicurus' argument, then, it follows that one must prove that it is possible to prevent evil.

C. S Lewis, in his excellent work on the the problem of evil known as the Problem of Pain, wrote that 
"In a game of chess you can make certain arbitrary concessions to your opponent, which stand to the ordinary rules of the game as miracles stand to the laws of nature. You can deprive yourself of a castle or allow the other man sometimes to take back a move made inadvertently. But if you conceded everything that at any moment happened to suit him-- if all his moves were revocable and if all your pieces disappeared whenever their position on the board was not to his liking-- then you could not have a game at all. So it is with the life of souls in a world: fixed laws, consequences unfolding by causal necessity, the whole natural order, are at once limits within which their common life is confined and also the sole condition under which any such life is possible. Try to exclude the possibility of suffering which the order of nature and the existence of free wills involve, and you find that you have excluded life itself."

From Lewis' argument, we can understand that without free will and the possibility of evil, God could not have created life itself. But surely no-one is foolish enough to suppose that if God exists, He could not have created the world. Therefore, the only viable conclusion about Epicurus' first objection to the concept of God is untrue.

Love: The Miracle of the Crucifixion

“God, who needs nothing, loves into existence wholly superfluous creatures in order that He may love and perfect them. He creates the universe, already foreseeing - or should we say "seeing"? there are no tenses in God - the buzzing cloud of flies about the cross, the flayed back pressed against the uneven stake, the nails driven through the mesial nerves, the repeated incipient suffocation as the body droops, the repeated torture of back and arms as it is time after time, for breath's sake, hitched up. If I may dare the biological image, God is a "host" who deliberately creates His own parasites; causes us to be that we may exploit and "take advantage of" Him. Herein is love. This is the diagram of Love Himself, the inventor of all loves.”

-- C.S Lewis

A few nights ago, April 3rd 2015, I attended a Good Friday service which I am not likely to ever forget. Aside from the candles illuminating the stage in the stead of the usual electric lights; the archaic icons of Christ appearing on the screens and fading, like a dream remembered and forgotten again; the theatrical interpretations of the thieves on the crosses; the classical guitar humming reverently to ancient tunes; there was an overwhelming presence of the Divine. The movement of the Holy Spirit within that sanctuary was unmistakable. There, the shekineh of God dwelt, even if only for an hour.

But within that small period of time, I was reminded of the most important Truth: the Love of God.

Now, I could guess what some of you are thinking, for not so very long ago I used to think these things myself when I heard people speak about God's Love. Really? The Love of God? Isn't that a bit overstated? If I were you, I would talk about God's justice, or His wrath, or His grace, or His sovereignty-- or all of those things combined, provided you make His Love a mere subset of those factors. The Love of God is too mainstream. Everyone has already heard that God is loving-- what about the other attributes?

To answer these questions I am afraid I'll have to shake things up a bit. This may disturb you, or at least confuse you. The following statement is revolutionary in the modern culture:

Most of the world has a very distorted view of Love.

Let me elaborate. In the post-Romantic era of the modern world, we tend to view Love through highly distorted lenses of sentimentality. If we were to know what Love truly is, I reckon we would be less eager to claim that "everyone already knows that God is Love." The modern concept of Love is so dysmorphic that it is nearly impossible to claim that even most Christians understand what is meant when they hear the word in reference to God.

The original meaning of the Greek word "Agape" in reference to God is far deeper and more meaningful than any definition of "love" which we humans are likely to ponder without Divine intervention. This fact should not surprise us; on the contrary, it is to be expected. For humanity is a limited creature, and cannot comprehend all things. Do not think I am saying this in order to make an appeal to "mystery." I myself hate it when other people make such nonsensical appeals; it usually means they have given up all attempts at thinking. Nevertheless, in this particular circumstance, the aphorism is true.Our lack of complete comprehension is the primary reason for our misunderstanding of "love."

I am not saying that we cannot comprehend Love at all. Indeed, we often recognize its obvious forms. When two people cannot refrain from thinking about each other-- when they are devoted exclusively to one another, for better or worse-- we say they are "in love." When a person enjoys a particular tune, we say he "loves" that song. Likewise, the master "loves" his dog.

Nevertheless, they all are all lacking. By nature the objects of these loves are mortal, and cannot hope to pass into the realm of the everlasting. They are possessions, and are therefore temporal. The flower fades. The song is over. The Beloved dies. We are left to weep by the graveside. Without the hope of the Divine love, we can only despair. Nothing that is not connected to God, the Author of Life, will ever live eternally, and must therefore die-- even our earthly loves. Only love between those who have Life Everlasting can endure.

But I see that I have not answered the questions. I have shown nothing about what Love in its highest form truly is.

Let me use a definition by C.S Lewis to clear the matter up. It is perhaps the best way to explain the meaning of the divine "Agape" in English. He informs us that "Love is not affectionate feeling, but a steady wish for the loved person's ultimate good as far as it can be obtained." 

Go back and read that definition again. Memorize it, even. It is of utmost importance, and cannot possibly be overstated. Once you have an understanding of that definition of Love, continue reading.

I often hear people say things like "Yes, God is Love-- but he is also just;" or, "Yes, God is Love, but He is also sovereign." These people have a distorted view of God. They do not realize that the reason God is sovereign (or wrathful, or gracious, or glorious, or good, or any number of characteristics) is because God is Love. If God were not Love, all His attributes would be in a state of cacophonous warfare among one another. His grace would contradict his wrath, His sovereignty would contradict His goodness, and His Love would be partial. His Love is the reason for our existence, as Lewis stated in the opening quote.

The apostle John, the "beloved disciple," claimed that "God is Love." At the time (and even in the modern era), this statement was revolutionary. No other religion besides Judaism had ever claimed that God, in His essence, was Love. They might have adhered to the doctrines of his sovereignty, or His glorification... but Love? It was unheard of in the ancient world-- they understood only His power.

John certainly had a unique view on God's nature. As the "disciple whom Jesus loved," he was given the extraordinary privilege of revealing what is perhaps the most essential Truth in the world. He emphasized the Love of God to the extent of stating that God Himself is Love! Some might object that it was merely John's opinion. However, those who hold to the infallibility of Scripture will ultimately testify that his words were inspired by God Himself. In Scripture, God reveals who He is through the words of John. God is Love, and we know this because He tells us so.

But let's take a step forward into your life, centuries after John wrote his epistles. It may seem irrelevant, and forgive me if I seem to jump around. But bear with me. I daresay you have a heart full of emotions and desires. If I may be so bold, I believe you also have people whom you truly love. Perhaps you don't always admit it verbally to them-- you may fear rejection, or a half-hearted reciprocation, or disbelief-- but you love them all the same. While you don't constantly express it in words (indeed, perhaps you can't), you may do alternative things to show your affection. You may spend hours in conversation, or give gifts sporadically, or listen intently to him/her rant, or do an act of service, or hold their hand and hug them. Regardless of the method, love usually expresses itself and its genuineness somehow. The level of that expression is an indicator of the level of love.

I am the same, and do not claim to be an exception. I usually don't tell people how much I appreciate them. I find it awkward--cliche in fact-- to say "I love you," even to the ones closest to me. I sometimes find myself wanting to say it, but as soon as the words reach my mouth there appears an invisible barrier separating them from their intended recipients. I fear rejection. I fear the mediocre "I love you" in return, like an unopened letter with the words "Return to Sender" stamped on the front. Every man experiences this fear at some point in life.  If you are human, you have felt it-- or if you haven't yet, you simply haven't lived long enough.

Jesus was no exception, either. He was fully human, and knows every emotion we experience. Indeed, as Hebrews 4:15 states, "For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are--yet he did not sin." He, too, was tempted with despair. In fact, He was tempted with far worse despair than any we experience in fear of unrequited love. 

You may object, "But Jesus was God. He could not possibly have been tempted in the same way, because He had the complete and utter power to endure."

But have you ever stopped to consider the fact that the fact that Jesus was God is the very reason why His temptation was so much worse than ours? 

God is omniscient. He foreknew our treacherous adultery with false lovers and idols, and He foresaw that few would accept Him. Yet He extended His arms to the thieves on both His right and His left, in passionate, unconquerable, all-consuming Love for them. Jesus understood that the thief on one side would reject Him, despite His every effort to bring the thief into the Kingdom of Heaven. 

Pause for a moment and reflect on that. 

Love Himself, though hated, still loved the one who rejected Him. 

John recognized the utter significance of the Divine Love in the fourth chapter of his first epistle: "In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins."

God loves every single human being He has ever made-- even though He already knows which ones will reject him of their own free will. We cannot even partially imagine the pain God feels, knowing that some of His beloved creatures will choose to hate Him eternally. We experience something like it (albeit infinitely less in measure) when we are deserted by those whom we trusted most, or when a spouse is unfaithful, or when a child becomes a prodigal son.

 Yet even in our pitiful state, we cannot cry the tears of God. When we grieve His Spirit, a sorrow greater than the sum total of pain experienced collectively by all of humanity is created. We do not have a God who is unable to sympathize-- rather, it is the reverse. It is we who cannot sympathize with our God. God is not impassible-- He is infinitely passionate. 

We all too often forget that God's various attributes are rooted in one essential virtue. His wrath and justice are not separate from His all-encompassing Love; rather, they exist only because of it. His Love unifies all His attributes. As a loving husband is jealous for his wife, so is the LORD jealous for us. And just as a loving husband is furious and pained at the very thought of his wife's infidelity, so is the LORD's wrath kindled against those who would adulterate themselves with false gods and idols. His justice is a direct deduction from His goodness-- and God could not be all-good (omnibenevolent) without the essential core virtue of Love. 

Imagine the pain that Christ felt. Certainly some of it was physical-- in fact, we had to invent a completely new word to describe such pain: excruciating. Literally, the word means "out of the cross." But more than the physical torment of the flayed back, the pierced hands and feet, the concussed skull with deadly thorns pressed in, the asphyxiating lungs, and the hypovolemic shock, there is a sense in which an even greater agony pressed itself upon the heart of Jesus. The grief which Jesus must have felt because of his absolute foreknowledge of every person's free choices had to have been unbearable. 

But He endured it. The miracle isn't just that He was raised-- it's that He submitted to the will of His Father, and died for the atonement of sin. It wasn't His physical power or strength that allowed Him to do this-- it was His Love. As He said to the disciples in John 14:31, shortly before his crucifixion, "The world must learn that I love my Father and that I do exactly what my Father has commanded me." On that cross, Christ conquered the forces of sin and darkness, and crushed the head of the serpent forever. But if you could have traveled back in time to that instant of history, you would not have seen anything glorious about it. The Victor had to be vanquished before He could save us. That, my friends, is the ultimate expression of Love. 

And, having endured all earthly suffering, 

He gave His very life

That we might one day have Life Everlasting in Him. 

"Greater love has no one than this: that a man lay down his life for his friends."