by Anonymous Logician, Copyright May 01, 2006, all rights reserved. 631 views
"Sorry, guys," said Rich, looking up from a newspaper, "but the main reason I can't believe in Christianity is that there's no way to reconcile an all-good, all-powerful God with the horrible evil I see around me. Think about it: little kids tortured and killed; world wars with incredible devastation; illness striking those who do nothing wrong. Where is your God in all of this?"
John and Michael, both Christians and coworkers with Rich, were finishing up a coffee break at work. They looked at each other briefly. Then John set his coffee mug down and spoke. "God isn't to be blamed for man's evil because man has free will. As a free being, Adam, the first man, chose sin and plunged his race into depravity. We have evil because we choose it."
Rich didn't look convinced. "But who gave man his free will?"
"God, of course. He didn't make us robots that only do what's right."
"What I'm saying is, doesn't that still leave God partly responsible for evil?"
John looked perplexed. "What are you saying?"
"That if God gave man free will, knowing what man would do with it, then he gave man evil."
"But there was no other way," John replied. "The power to truly do good requires the ability to do evil. God couldn't have made man free and yet guarantee that he'd always do good."
"Hold on, John. God 'couldn't'? And we still haven't really absolved God from responsibility in the whole thing."
John hedged. "But what good is a robot that doesn't know what good or evil is, and only does good because it's programmed to do it? God allows evil because He loves us so much–so much that He wants us to love Him by choice."
"It seems like you're offering me a choice between robots and the hell humanity has experienced. It gives little comfort that Hitler wasn't a robot."
"Wait a second," put in John. "There's another reason God allowed evil to happen. He wanted to create in man qualities of courage, mercy, and compassion, qualities that wouldn't be possible unless sin existed."
"Does God want man to have these qualities in heaven?"
"Of course."
"Then doesn't that mean that there must be sin in heaven, so that men can be courageous, merciful, etc.? Isn't that why God allowed evil? And that's another thing–how could God 'allow' evil to happen, stand by and let man fall into helplessness and corruption, and not somehow be responsible? Do we let a lifeguard off the hook because he only sat and watched a little kid drown? It doesn't make sense."
John turned puzzled eyes on Michael. "Let me give it a shot," said the Michael finally. "But first, I'm kind of curious about something."
Rich leaned back. "Shoot."
"How can you define evil in order to raise the problem of evil?"
"What do you mean? We all know what evil is."
"I do–as a Christian. Evil is defined by God's commands and character. But you've rejected all that. So how do we know Hitler was so bad?"
"I'd say that the good is derived from our natural human needs. We only need that which is good for us; there are no wrong needs. So we can base ethics on the fact that we ought to desire the real good."
Michael lifted an eyebrow. "The catch is in the phrase 'good for us.' Such an outlook begs the question by assuming that what's good for us is 'really good.' This requires smuggling in some outside standard. Too, David Hume (certainly no Christian!) pointed out long ago that your ethic commits the naturalistic fallacy by reasoning from the is to the ought. Maybe you can show me what's 'good' for me–but that's description, and can't logically lead to prescription."
"But the very fact that something is really good for us provides us with a prescriptive premise and lets us avoid Hume's Gap. There are no wrong needs, as I said before."
"Only if you equivocate on the term 'good,'" replied Michael. "You've used it in your premises to refer to description–what happens to us if we follow course A vs. course B–and in your conclusion to refer to a prescriptive, metaphysical good that's binding universally. Just because there are no wrong needs doesn't mean there are right ones."
John rubbed a finger over his chin. "But it's impossible to think that we ought to desire what's really bad for us."
"That's true enough. But you've set up a false dilemma: either we ought to desire the good, or we ought to desire the bad. The moral skeptic could point to a third option: there is no 'ought' at all."
"All right," returned Rich. "I'll have to get back to you. But let's say you're correct. You still have a problem on your hands. Granted that the Christian system can distinguish good from evil and I can't, you're still faced with an internal contradiction: how can God be just and benevolent when evil flourishes?"
"Very perceptive. On the Christian's own terms, he has a problem to deal with. But if you agree to that, then you must let the Christian solve the problem on his own terms–and that means no slipping a non-Christian standard into the debate."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that both you and John are looking at the problem of evil from the wrong perspective. You're acting as if God were somehow accountable to an outside standard, like Plato's Demiurge and the World of Ideas. John's trying to justify God's actions based on categories that will fit neatly into your worldview, Rich. He's trying to fit God into your definition of 'fair' or 'just.' But your worldview is exactly what I'm trying to question."
"Hold on a second. Explain that a little more."
"Sure," said Michael. "Just like I challenged whether your non-Christian worldview can justify ethical distinctions, I'm questioning the idea that your belief system should hold court on the problem of evil. All you can require is that the Christian solve the problem such that there's no inconsistency. You can't demand that the solution please you."
'Fine. So what's your solution?"
"It begins with a distinction between two types of Christian thought. The one type might be called Reformational and holds firmly to the sovereignty of God. The second you could term 'free will' theology. It emphasizes man's choices. These two diverging systems have at their hearts two different views of God, sad as that is. The first one sees God as a sovereign King and Creator that 'works all things according to the counsel of His own will'–that is, He causes all things for His purposes. He's the potter; we're the clay. The second system sees God as one who created man, but watches to see what man does before making his decrees. There's an inherent contingency in God's plans."
"So what's this got to do with evil?"
"Simple. John was trying to solve the problem a minute ago by appealing to free will. But this didn't work, since he basically handed you the debate."
"And you can do better."
"Listen a minute. If God is sovereign, and causes or predestines all things according to the good pleasure of His will, then the existence of evil is not something God allowed but caused."
Rich chuckled. "Doesn't that exacerbate the problem? That's like a lifeguard, instead of just watching a kid drown, actually operating some kind of giant machine to pull him out to sea."
"But here's where your analogy breaks down," continued Michael. "The lifeguard is wrong to do what he does, because as a man, he's accountable to a higher standard–that of other men, or, actually, of God's law. But God is not a man."
"But doesn't that still make God responsible for evil? How can He be good?"
"You've missed the point–there is no outside standard to hold Him 'responsible.' And yes, He is good because He Himself is the definition of good. Calvin pointed out that whatever God does is right, for this reason: because He does it."
"Hold on," put in John. "Now you're giving away the debate. Wouldn't this destroy all ethical distinctions? If anything God does is good, then what basis do we have for saying that murder is evil? God murders as well as man."
"Not quite. For one thing, God can't murder, because to murder is to take a life wrongfully. God, as our Creator, owns our lives completely already. And second, with regard to ethical distinctions, we still have the commands of God–murder and theft are wrong because God says they are. Morality is based on God's revealed will, not necessarily His decretive will. The ancient Stoics demolished your objection when they pointed out that both a lion and a cheetah exist by the decree of Fate (though we don't believe in an impersonal Fate), but that doesn't make a lion a cheetah. Just because God decrees two things to happen doesn't make them both right or wrong."
Rich shook his head. "But to decree something that's wrong still makes God the author of sin."
"There you go again, slipping some outside standard into the debate. Where is this unwritten law that tells God, 'Thou shalt not foreordain certain things'?"
"Still, admit it–God caused sin."
"I already 'admitted' it earlier. But this isn't the same as making God the 'author' of sin. Don't forget the distinction between primary and secondary causes–that's basic philosophy. Aristotle will tell you as much. As Gordon Clark pointed out, on his view, God causes everything, even the publication of Clark's books. But God is not the author of Clark's books. Clark is–as you'd be the first to admit. That's why the Reformed tradition, like the Westminster Confession, has always insisted that God is not the author of sin; Hitler, not God, led the Nazis. So God's foreordaining sin doesn't make Him a sinner any more than His foreordaining your argument makes Him illogical."
"Very clever. But you're still snagged on an internal contradiction. If God ordains one thing and declares that same action to be evil, then God is in tension with God."
"Not really. There's no inconsistency between 'God decreed X' and 'God forbids us to do X.' What you're really saying is not that Christianity is illogical but that you disagree with the Christian conclusion. But God doesn't answer to your autonomous standards of what He ought and ought not do. The Lion of Judah is not a tame lion."
Note: I am indebted to Gordon H. Clark, W. Gary Crampton, and Doug Groothius for much of this information.