Hypocrisy, Stupidity, Dishonesty, Ignorance, and Evil in the Bible


Truth is a Man

noah-drunk One reason I find Christianity believable is the hypocrisy, stupidity, dishonesty, ignorance, and evil in the Bible.

Take, for instance, those remarkable individuals who made it into the spiritual “hall-of-fame” in Hebrews 11:4-38.  A list of some of the most important saints who ever lived; individuals God worked through to accomplish incredible things; individuals whose lives were built on faith.  Yet, every one of them were hypocrites–that is, their lives did not always match up to the values they cherished most.

Consider Noah, one of the only men to remain faithful to God in his lifetime–“humanities last hope”.  After the flood, whilst in the primordial stages of building a new civilization, he gets wasted and exposes himself to his sons (Genesis 9:20-23).  Or take Abraham, for example, who, out of fear, led a king to believe his wife was actually his sister; thus allowing the king to take his wife into his harem (see Genesis…

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The Paradox of Humanity


IMG_0026A continuous trend in the history of philosophy has been deciding whether or not humans are entirely good or entirely evil. Some philosophers believed that we are basically good, but are corrupted either due to society, family, lack of family, lack of society, a bourgeois lifestyle, or so on. Other philosophers believed that humans are basically evil, but will act “good” when it works to our advantage, that we’re really selfish and so no true altruism exists. Recently there have been philosophers who say there is no good or evil, that humans have acts and simply exist.

Christianity has traditionally held that humans are paradoxically good and evil. It’s not that we’re mostly good or mostly evil, it’s that each individual chooses which direction he will take. Throughout the history of Christianity there have been some extremes, even some so extreme that it steps into the shallow waters of heresy. Some, such as the Pelagians, taught that humans were good and could live perfect lives. Others, such as extreme Calvinists, teach that humans are evil from the moment of conception and can choose to do no good in any sense of the word (any act of good was determined by God). Yet, at its core, Christianity teaches that humans are good, but fallen creatures.

In short, we are a paradox; we are both good and evil. We are capable of bringing about immense good in the lives of others in the most mundane of ways. Whether it be from thousands of Reddit users sending letters to a terminally ill man with down’s syndrome to a New York City police officer buying shoes for a homeless man, we can inspire hope with the smallest of things. Even if our actions don’t make national news, we can impact people’s lives with what we do. For some, it’s as simple as having a smile and being friendly to someone who’s had a rough day. As a people, we are capable of accomplishing great things.

Yet, we are equally capable of doing atrocious things. Yesterday, an insane man murdered multiple people, the majority of whom were children. What is sad is that while this event is tragic, it pales in comparison to the millions who are murdered around the globe each day by their brothers. Whether it be through forced starvation because of an evil dictator or through a vicious civil war who’s purpose has long been forgotten, millions are killed each day. But the evil is compounded by the indifference of the entire world. We care about the shooting of these children because it is a horrible thing and happened in what was supposed to be a “safe area.” Yet, where are the television cameras for the inner-city 6 year old who witnesses rape, drug use, gang beatings, and shootings as a way of life? Or why haven’t we seen outrage over the United States’ predator drone strikes wherein hundreds of children have been killed? It is one thing for an insane man to walk into a school and mercilessly shoot down the innocent, but it’s another when hundreds of insane men launch a taxpayer funded missile at foreign children all in the name of patriotism. Both acts are insane, but we have made one socially acceptable. While capable of great good, we are capable of great evil, most often through our apathy.

We are a people that built the Eiffel Tower, the Empire State Building, beautiful gardens, and incredible architecture that has withstood the test of time. Within a century, we created vehicles to get us from one spot to another, took these vehicles to the sky, perfected them, and eventually took them to the moon. At the same time, we created new ways of killing each other, we opened Pandora’s Box with nuclear warfare (and it seems inevitable that it will occur, killing billions), and took our creations and used them to destroy the earth.

Are we basically good? If so, then how do we explain yesterday’s actions? Perhaps we can give the shooter a cop out by saying something snapped. But then how do we explain the mass neurosis of a society that ignores the pain of those around them? If we are basically good, then our existence should be basically good as well. We shouldn’t see the crime, the war, the troubles in this world. Yet we do see them.

Are we basically evil? If so, then how do we explain the outpouring of sympathy towards the victims in Connecticut? The root of all evil is the desire for autonomy, which manifests itself first in narcissism. All acts of evil occur out of narcissism, thus empathy and altruism are completely incompatible with evil. Yet, here we are feeling empathy towards the victims. All the time we see acts of altruism where benefactor gets nothing out of his act of kindness. If we are basically evil, we shouldn’t see altruism or empathy or anything good. All that is good should be an accident.

Why is it that we are a paradox? Why is it that, on a universal scale, we’re capable of good and evil? Why is it that, on an individual level, we can always find dirt even on the best people? Why do we seem to be great and insignificant? This, in my opinion, has been the source of existential angst in the past one hundred years; once we did away with the Christian answer to this question, we were forced to face this question again. Facing the question caused angst, leading to apathy towards the question (after all, it’s much easier to be entertained) or, alternatively, to deducing the question to scientific explanations. Both attempts have been a failure, even if the apologists for each approach have yet to realize their failure.

We are a paradox because we are in the image of God, but not in His likeness. We are in the image of God in that we have a conscience, can rationally choose good or evil, and we have the freedom to choose good or evil. But we are not in His likeness in that our wills are turned away from Him and we do not always desire to choose what is good. We act like God in that we reason, but we act nothing like God in that we sin. We are all children of God, made in His image, but we have run away and are lost in a cold and unforgiving world. We are capable of good because God is still our Father, but we are capable of evil because we have left His house. In walking away from God we are left with nothing and so we try to fill that nothing with anything. But in the pursuit of anything, we will do horrible things to achieve it, because our goal is not love, it is not holiness, it is not mercy, it is not grace; when we pursue a chief end other than God, we pursue something of our own creation, meaning we pursue our pride. The pursuit of pride, the desire for autonomy, is the root of all evil.

Yet, in a plot twist that would make Christopher Nolan blush, the paradoxical Trinitarian God sent His Son into our world, to paradoxically remain fully God while also being fully human, all so He could fix the paradox that is us (yes, a paradox within a paradox within a paradox). The irony is that we are a paradox out of rebellion, but one that can be fixed; God is a paradox to us by His nature, and one we will never solve (because He is above us). The paradox that is man is the cause of our pain, but the paradox that is God is the solvent. By taking on human nature, Christ eradicated evil from it and showed us the way back to wholeness and fulfillment. The goal of following Christ is to become less of a contradiction, to abandon evil and to follow the good.

We are a paradox, but we don’t have to be. By growing in Christ, we can accomplish so much more. We can tap into the image of God, but also become more like Him.

What Are We Really Asking With the Problem of Evil?


I often begin to ponder the problem of evil on this site and even wrote a long 10 post series on it. In addition to that, as some people may have noticed, I’m quite critical of most theodicies that Christians offer concerning the existence of evil in this world.

I think modern theodicy has shown quite adequately that the existence of evil does nothing to threaten the existence of God. Christianity teaches that humans have free will and the existence of free will always allows for the chance for evil to occur. While some may debate whether or not we have free will, that deals more with the correspondence of Christianity to the real world, not with the internal consistency. In other words, to prove we don’t have free will would do more to question Christianity as a religion itself; there would be no need to bring up the problem of evil.

Thus, when we ask why God allows certain horrible actions to occur, we could equally ask why we continue to do them. Likewise, if God did step in to stop the most atrocious of evil actions, then the somewhat “acceptable” evils not would become atrocious and we would ask why God doesn’t stop those. Eventually, God’s duties would be relegated to ensuring that our ice cream never fell off the cone and that our internet never went out. Of course, this would destroy all free will which would negate a very important part of the Gospel. In addition to the above, what is evil is often subjective. If God were to stop every instance of evil then would we have a monarchy or a democracy? Some would argue a democracy, others a monarchy; whichever system God put in place, some people would consider it an evil. All individuality would be lost if God stopped every instance of evil, but this would be necessary if God stopped all gratuitous evil. Thus, by logical necessity (since God is consistent), if he is to allow free will then he must allow for gratuitous evil.

The above argument makes sense and, in my opinion, is a very solid theodicy. Yet I’m left feeling incomplete with it. In other words, what I have offered above is the best intellectual response that exists to the problem of evil, but it’s not satisfying. That’s not to say it’s wrong or that atheism has finally won; all the problem of evil can do for atheists is prove that an internal contradiction exists with Christianity, likewise the lack of a satisfying answer doesn’t mean the answer given is wrong. Rather, I think my answer isn’t satisfying because I’m asking the wrong question and approaching this issue with the wrong method.

I, and many others, aren’t really asking “Why does God allow evil?” We’re asking why he doesn’t stop it, specifically why doesn’t he stop the most egregious evils, yet in the Bible we see him stopping other evils. This is the wrong question to ask because we’re asking for specifics from an individual. We often forget that God is not some abstract concept that we study, but an actual person. Thus, when he acts, he has reasons for acting and sometimes doesn’t want those reasons known, or sometimes those reasons cannot be known. While some may roll their eyes (as I did) at the whole “his ways are higher,” it does make sense for specific evils and why he’d stop some and not others. Just as an infant cannot understand why his parents force this horrible mushy substance into his mouth, so too are we incapable of understanding why God acts the way he does in certain situations; it’s not that he purposefully hides it from us, it’s that by nature we’re incapable of understanding.

Yet, even this leaves me unsatisfied. Why do horrendous evils still occur? These evils are seemingly superfluous; certainly if God had a reason for allowing them we would eventually discover the reason, even if it took many generations to discover it. Yet, there are ancient evils that still baffle our minds. Here we are, a few generations removed from the Holocaust and rather than gaining clarity and seeing why God allowed it, we’re ending up with deniers of the Holocaust, celebrants, and we’re even more confused as to why it happened than we were when we first discovered it. While God’s ways are mysterious and we won’t always understand the specifics, I’m not sure this is a good answer, even if it is the right one. That is to say, while the answer is true, I’m not sure it works as an answer to the real question in the problem of evil (“Why doesn’t God just stop evil?”).

Ultimately, this points to the wrong method in answering the problem of evil. We often approach the problem of evil as an academic problem, something we see on paper that can be solved, and we especially do this in the West. But the problem of evil has only become academic because it really exists in our own lives first. We contemplate “why evil” long before we learn how to read, long before we gain critical thinking. Job was capable of questioning why God would allow evil without the aid of David Hume or Epicurus. A young girl who loses a parent (or both parents) can question the goodness of God without ever being introduced to the complex debates on theodicy. In other words, this is an existential problem long before it becomes an intellectual problem; in fact, I would argue that it’s primarily an existential problem with only the logical problem of evil (how can God and evil co-exist) composing an intellectual part.

Yet, if we pull back from the issue of evil for one second we’ll see that this is how almost all problems are concerning the questions that matter. Where do we come from? What is our purpose? Where are we going? These are primarily existential questions, not intellectual ones (they can be handled intellectually, but are then incomplete). We’ve been blinded to this because prior to Descartes and, really, Gettier, we adopted a Platonic way of understanding the world and our understanding of the world. Plato believed that our knowledge came form interacting with the ideal forms, which then translated down to this earth. Descartes also treated knowledge as an intellectual practice. In other words, every form of epistemology (save for one) that have existed in the Western world has placed an emphasis on the intellect, the mind, the nous. Even postmodernism or experimental forms of knowledge that place an emphasis on experience still, at their base, rely on the intellect (even if they later devalue it to the subjective).

Is it no wonder then that we’re woefully ill-prepared to answer the problem of evil? The problem of evil strikes every aspect of our existence, yet the epistemology we approach it with only does so from one aspect of our existence. This would explain why the answers given in any theodicy (save for Greater Good theodicies) make sense and work, but are still unsatisfying; it’s not that the answers are wrong, it’s that they’re incomplete.

In order to take on the task of providing a full theodicy, however, we first have to develop a new epistemology that addresses knowledge as gained and interpreted through every aspect of our being. Such a theodicy does exist (it’s implicit within the Early Church teachings and some Russian philosophers), but hasn’t really been systematized. In other words, while these works exist in English, the concepts really haven’t been translated. Such a teaching is still lost on the modern world and while touched upon by a few Russian thinkers (Pavel Florensky, Ivan Vasilevich Kireevsky, Vladimir Sergeevish Soloviev, to name a few), it’s difficult for Westerners to understand exactly what they’re teaching.

How I wish I could offer up this new epistemology, one that I think would work to give a more complete theodicy, but I haven’t really developed this epistemology or worked through it. I merely point all of this out to show that I think we’re approaching theodicy in an incomplete manner. If we’re approaching theodicy with an incomplete answer, then we need to stop exacerbating the problem by trying to use a failed method and revisit some of our more basic philosophies. While I think we can deal with the logical/intellectual problem of evil, that problem is ultimately superficial; no one quotes Hume at the death of a child, yet everyone questions God in such an instance. We can use Plantinga’s defense (or even better defenses) when in a debate with an atheist, but we can’t use it when counseling a man who’s been diagnosed with cancer. This means that while the free will defense, or other theodicies, are true, they’re inadequate and incomplete. But we can’t complete them with our current methods or epistemologies, we need something new. But who knows if or when that’ll ever come about.

So I leave this post not with answers, but with more questions. What will this new epistemology look like? Will it work? What will its ramifications be? Most importantly, is it true and we’ve simply ignored it for all these years? These are answers I do not have and may not have for many years. Thus, my apologies for introducing an even bigger problem to the debate, but I find it necessary.

Rethinking the Problem of Evil: A Unified Theodicy (Part 7) – A Unified Theodicy


Before presenting my answer to the problem of evil, it is better to understand the two major mistakes that the above theodicies seem to make. They will seem like petty critiques, but I will seek to show why they aren’t petty and why these problems must be dealt with.

First, the minor problem I’ve noticed is that philosophers and theologians inevitably end up using a language of being with talking about evil. Now, of course this is inevitable, but unfortunately rather than recognizing it, it often subverts the theory. The language of being (e.g. “cause,” “purpose,” etc) indicates that evil has a form, a substance, and an essence; yet evil lacks all of these things because it isn’t really a “thing.” Rather, evil is a lack of something. As the Damascene explains, “For it is inconceivable that evil should originate from good. Then we reply that evil is no more than a negation of good and a lapse from what is natural to what is unnatural, for there is nothing that is naturally evil.”[1]

To be fair, none of the philosophers in the G-G theodicies, nor Little, nor Plantinga would argue that evil has a substance. They would contend that they use this language only out of necessity, but ultimately acknowledge that evil is the privation of good. However, it seems that though the language of being is necessary to talk about evil (at least without using long, drawn-out sentences), we do begin to treat evil as though it were a substance. In using the language of being when discussing evil we begin to act as though evil does have a being, which can inadvertently impact our theodicy (I see this particularly in G-G theodicies as opposed to C-O theodicies). Perhaps it is an accident, or perhaps I am reading into these defenses what isn’t there, but it is an observation.

The second problem, and the bigger problem, is that many of these theodicies ignore worldview thinking. While worldview thinking may not be popular with some philosophers, it’s an inescapable reality; unless we are inconsistent in our views on the world, we all have a worldview. Likewise, theism and Christianity are self-contained worldviews (that overlap in some areas). In light of this, the above theodicies, with exception to C-O Theodicy, are seemingly created outside of these worldviews, or refuse to take an overall narrative into account when creating a theodicy, making the theodicy inconsistent within the broader narrative.

What we see with Plantinga’s theodicy and G-G theodicies is they aren’t really consistent with what theists say about God. Worse for Christians is they aren’t consistent with a Christian worldview. While a C-O Theodicy seeks to avoid this problem, I would argue that it fails to answer (1) how it is that we were capable of sin before the fall, but not after glorification (if we’re simply returned to our original state as Little seems to believe) and (2) the ultimate purpose for creation; the very act of creation seems superfluous if there is ultimately no point in allowing evil. I applaud a C-O Theodicy for correcting the mistakes of G-G Theodicies by attempting to place a theodicy within the Christian metanarrative and attempting to put theodicy back on the right track of fitting within the Christian context, but I believe that Little’s attempt ultimately falls short of accomplishing its goal.

If I am right in my criticisms then all future theodicies must (1) seek to do their best to avoid using a language of being when talking about evil and (2) seek to make the explanation of evil consistent within theism (especially Christianity). My attempt at a Unified Theodicy seeks to meet both of these criteria.

A Unified Theodicy can best be explained as “when gratuitous evil is met by gratuitous love.” This is simply a play on the word “gratuitous.” When applied to evil the connotation of “gratuitous” has already been explained (seemingly unnecessary). When applied to love, however, it refers to something done free of charge, or to something that is given (like a mechanic doing gratuitous work on a car, this means he wouldn’t charge the car owner). The entirety of my theory rests upon love, specifically the love of God.

Before going on, it would be best to define love. When I use the word “love” I have in mind the Greek word agape, which can refer to benevolence. Rather than reducing word after word, ultimately love refers to an act of sacrifice, specifically an act done without expectation of repayment or for which it is impossible to repay. A man might see a woman unable to pay for her groceries and he pays for them, knowing the woman will never be able to pay him back. This is a form of love and one of the higher forms at that (as it’s an act of purely altruistic sacrifice). Since sacrifice is indicative of love, the greater the sacrifice and the less likely such a sacrifice can be recompensed, the greater the act of love.

We can look in the Trinity and see that such a love does exist among the members of the Trinity. The Father shares His glory with the Word and the Spirit, while the Word and Spirit work with the will of the Father. Since the Persons of the Trinity all share in the divine essence of God (though His essence is not divided as all three are equally God), the type of sacrifice available is limited. But even in this limitation, we still see the members working to serve one another.

We also see sacrificial love with God’s act of creation, for to create means God allowed something lesser than Himself to come into existence. But then He limited His power in order to allow His creation to have free will. Such a limiting was an act of sacrifice on the part of God, which in turn is an act of love.

Both the ancient Jews and early Christians understood that the act of creation was really an act of love and done out of God’s love (not solely or primarily for His glory as many in the Reformed tradition say).[2] The deuterocanonical book Wisdom of Solomon displays that the early Jews understood that God shows His love to all of His creation (Wisdom of Solomon 11:24-26) and that everything was created because of His love. We can turn to the Damascene and read,

“Now, because the good and transcendentally good God was not content to contemplate Himself, but by a superabundance of goodness saw fit that there should be some things to benefit by and participate in His goodness, He brings all things from nothing into being and creates them, both visible and invisible, and man, who is made up of both.”[3]

Notice that the Damascene says it was out of a “superabundance” of goodness that God saw fit to create everything. While God could have contemplated Himself for eternity and lived in perfect, holy communion with Himself (since though He is one, He is three in person), He instead chose to create those who could also experience His love and love Him, though they would be lesser than Him.

Likewise, Genesis 2:9 teaches us that humans were created in order to Love God. The love man experiences doesn’t stop with God, but is also meant to extend to his neighbor (Mathew 22:37-40). Thus, man was created to love God and to love his neighbor, but to truly sacrifice demands that one has free will. After all, if I am forced to give up something then the motive behind my sacrifice is forced, which cannot be considered an act of love. Rather, in order for sacrifice to truly be a loving act, it must be freely given out of a desire to benefit the other. Continue reading

Rethinking the Problem of Evil: A Unified Theodicy (Part 6) – The Existential Problem of Evil


Ideally both the logical theodicy defense and the evidential theodicy defense should leave us prepared to have a good groundwork to deal with the existential problem of evil. I call our experience of evil the “existential” problem of evil because we must face it in our own way, and the greatness of the evil varies from person to person. While the previous two categories of evil allow us to step back and view the problem without any attachment, the existential problem of evil focuses on our everyday lives and experiences with evil. How we evaluate that evil is purely subjective, which poses a problem for explaining why the evil is allowed. To the three-year-old, not being able to have ice cream for evil one can face; for the adult it’s losing one’s job, losing a spouse, losing a child, or so on.

What is consistent about the existential problem of evil is that it seems all the academic efforts in theodicy fall apart in a personal crisis. One of the more famous examples is C.S. Lewis, who dealt with the problem of evil in his book The Problem of Pain. Yet, when he suffered an incredible loss in his own life (the death of his wife through cancer), he openly questioned God and found no solace in his theodicy, all of which is painfully evidence in his Grief Observed. When faced with the existential problem of evil it seems there is simply no reasoned response to it, which some would argue is a problem for Christians.

However, I would contend that the lack of a reasoned response is not a problem, but expected within a Christian worldview (though not necessarily a theistic worldview). As stated earlier, evil is the privation of good and good is an attribute of God. We must remember that His attributes cannnot be separated (for God is not composed of parts, but is simple). That means if evil is the absence of good, then it will in turn also be the absence of all other attributes of God. There won’t be any good in evil, but there also won’t be any wisdom, eternality, logic, and so on. Since evil is the absence of the power of God’s goodness, it follows that evil is also devoid of God’s reason as well. Therefore, all evil is by definition senseless and irrational, so when we experience evil there isn’t a reasoned response to it.

While we can offer a reasoned response to evil when we’re simply an observer, because we can draw back and look at it within the scheme of things, when we’re experiencing the evil we lack this ability because we’re in the midst of an irrational action. In fact, the greater the evil, the more illogical and senseless it is. The more we suffer or watch someone close to us suffer, the less likely we are to find an answer because evil is not only the privation of good, but the privation of reason as well (and all of God’s attributes). Since evil is devoid of the power of God (His goodness, His reason, and so on), we shouldn’t try to make sense of what is by nature senseless.

Some might take issue with me saying that evil is the privation of God. Perhaps it is better to flesh this out before moving on. When I say that evil is the privation of God as a whole, which includes all His attributes, what I mean is that it’s the privation of God’s power, for God Himself cannot be removed from anything (this would entail that He has limits). Therefore, evil is the privation of God’s power, but even then this comes in degrees.

A less evil (or sin) will entail a minor privation of God’s power, though not His presence. A greater evil would entail a major privation of God’s power, though not His presence. Due to the existence of free will, God’s power (as it is experienced) can be withheld without His presence being withheld (for God can remain hidden if He so chooses).

Some might contend that my argument falls apart when we consider the communicable and uncommunicable attributes of God. For instance, God is love and humans can love, God is rational and we can reason, etc. Here I would argue that while we can love, we cannot do so perfectly, thus we don’t technically share in the attribute of God itself, but rather in the power of God’s attribute. For humans can increase or decrease in love because we are accessing the power of God, but God cannot increase or decrease in love because it is a part of who He is (and His power is ever present in Himself).

Sadly, I don’t have space to go through a full defense of this – which could possibly require an entire other section and if I ever write a book on this issue, I might dedicate substantial space to this issue – but will leave my defense here. Since God cannot be divided and evil is a privation of the power of His goodness, it should follow that it is a privation of all of God’s power to some degree. This would include reasoning (as well as love, which is why an act of love can never be evil).[1]

Certainly, though, there must be some explanation to the existential problem of evil. There must be something we can turn to, something we can grasp a hold of. I would argue that there is, but it only makes sense if we work out the problems with the logical problem of evil and evidential problem of evil first. When those are settled, we are then supplied with the necessary framework to explain the existential problem of evil. I believe this is best accomplished through a Unified Theodicy.


[1] I would assert that this explanation of evil as a privation of God’s whole power (to varying degrees, depending on the evil) is almost essential to my Unified Theodicy. Without the belief that evil is a privation of God’s power, a Unified Theodicy would collapse.

Rethinking the Problem of Evil: A Unified Theodicy (Part 5) – The Evidential Problem of Evil


As alluded to, while the logical problem of evil has been adequately dealt with, we are still left with the evidential problem of evil. Yes, it is logical for God and evil to co-exist, but is the current amount of evil we see necessary? This is where the argument of gratuitous, or superfluous evil becomes extremely problematic for theists.

The skeptic might accept Plantinga’s argument, but turn around and argue that we can imagine a possible world with less evil. We could, conceivably, imagine a world where humans never discovered how to split the atom, which would prevent disasters like Nagasaki and Hiroshima from occurring. It would prevent the threat of annihilation. It would prevent people dying slow, horrible deaths from nuclear poisoning and the inevitable cancer that comes with it (think of Chernobyl or the inevitable problems that will be caused by the Fukushima power plant). We could imagine a world where Hitler or Stalin never came to power or where nations mostly existed peacefully (with wars only arising every few hundred years).

Likewise, we can imagine God acting to prevent some of the superfluous evil without contradicting a person’s free will (or at least this is the argument, though I take issue with it). For instance, if a man grabs a little child to kidnap her, we could imagine God sending an angel down to stop the man from doing so. After all, God prevented Pharaoh’s army from slaughtering the Hebrew people, He prevented Daniel from being eaten by the lions, and prevented Daniel’s three friends from being consumed in the fire. So we have examples of God supposedly preventing a superfluous evil, so why can’t we imagine a world where this Divine intervention happens more?

– Great Good Theodicy

Many theists and Christians attempt to explain the existence of superfluous evil by stating that it’s not really superfluous; they take Plantinga’s argument and say that every act of evil is invariably tied to a greater good that results from the evil. God will allow an evil only if a greater-good can be obtained from the evil, or if He intends for the greater good to obtain from the evil.

A greater good (G-G) theodicy teaches that some goods are contingent upon certain evils. They point to the example of the cross, where Jesus’ death, though evil, must occur for the good of salvation. Or one can think of the chicken pox, that while a child must endure the temporary evil of the chicken pox, she will have the greater good of not getting it later in life when it would be worse. Under the G-G theodicies, no evil is really “gratuitous” because it will always produce a greater good, it always has a reason, and is always necessary.

Already some readers may recognize the problem with G-G theodicies. The first problem and possibly the biggest is that it forced God to become reliant upon evil. If God wishes to obtain good and must only rely on evil, then how is He not ultimately responsible for evil? It would mean that God would have to cause evil in order to obtain a good from the evil. Likewise, it makes God the ultimate pragmatist, which would seemingly contradict God’s holiness; just because a greater good can be obtained through evil, how could God remain holy for doing this in every instance?

The other problem with G-G theodicies is that they significantly limit free will, which forces us to reconsider or abandon the answer to the logical problem of evil. If every act of evil begets good and good is part of God’s plan, then we must commit that act of evil. God is dependent upon us acting in an evil way, we have no other choice, so how are we truly responsible for acting in an evil manner? Let’s say that God plans to use Mike to cure HIV/AIDS, but the only way Mike will do this is if his wife contracts the disease through a blood transfusion and dies from it. Thus, God kills Mike’s wife in order to motivate Mike to cure HIV. Where is Mike’s free choice in the matter of choosing to cure HIV/AIDS? God knows that the only thing that will motivate Mike to cure HIV is the death of his wife via HIV (and then AIDS). Mike doesn’t really have a choice in such a situation and God becomes the cause of evil.

Along the same line of though, if all evil leads to a greater good then we have no reason to prevent evil. If a man sees a woman being mugged he has no reason to step in because a greater good could obtain from her being mugged. How do we know the good provided by evil won’t be greater than the good we achieve by preventing the evil? If a greater good obtains in every case of evil, then why work to stop every case of evil?

Hoes does a proponent of G-G theodicies escape the inevitable conclusion that God wills evil? As Little argues, “…if the good is necessary to the plan of God, then so is the evil, which logically leads to the conclusion that God wills the evil.”[1] If the good is willed by God and is necessary to the plan of God, then the evil that brought about the good would also be willed by God (under G-G theodicies). It’s a matter of forward causation – if God demands that G occurs, but E is needed for G to obtain, then God must have ordered E to occur.

Yet, G-G theodicies become more problematic the more we examine them, namely that we can always imagine ways God could bring about some good, yet use a less evil. We can think back to Roman times when the death of a Christian served as a testament to God. People would argue that the temporary evil of a Christian being torn apart by a lion would beget the greater good of the testimony offered by the Christian. Yet, we can imagine that God could somehow miraculously save the Christian, which would equally display His power to people.

Or we can imagine the collapse of a building during office hours in which hundreds are killed. The building collapsed due to faulty standards and oversight. Though hundreds are killed, the government passes new legislation that fixes the building standards and provides more oversight to prevent the tragedy from ever happening again. But can’t we also imagine that an inspector catches the problem before it happens and lobbies the government to pass such a law and they do? Or what about the building collapses a night with no one inside, leading to the same good as if hundreds had perished? In this example too, while a good does obtain as a result of the evil, we can imagine far less evil (or no evil) occurring that leads to the same resulted good.

Even if we accept that God somehow relies on evil to obtain good in every instance of evil, we can still imagine God using lesser evil. The problem is that to respond to this, one must argue that the level of evil is actually necessary for the good to obtain. As Little argues, “

“If the good is necessary, then so is the particular evil, for if the good could be accomplished with a lesser evil, then the all-good God would use the lesser evil. The end is, that the particular evil is necessary, for the good could not obtain without the evil and the good must obtain because it is necessary.”[2]

God then either appears infinitely dull in not thinking of better ways to obtain the good by using lesser evil, or it becomes an impossible mystery to us, but this doesn’t offer an answer to the problem of evil. We must argue that every act of evil is absolutely necessary (which can lead to Christian nihilism, where there is no point in preventing evil) or that God just can’t think of a better way to use a lesser evil.

Even if we disregard the above objections, we still have a further problem with G-G theodicies, namely that they almost inevitably lead to further evils. What is good now may be evil tomorrow.

One can think about the freedom of the US and all the good that was brought about through the evil of war. But turn around and think of the evil thrust upon the Native Americans via expansionist genocide. Or we can think about the evil caused by the institution of slavery. The original good (freedom from an oppressive government) eventually turned into evil (oppression was thrown upon another group).

We can imagine about how Israel was formed because of the Holocaust, and Israel is good in that it provides a homeland for Jews who would otherwise be persecuted (today or eventually) in other countries. But the trade-off is that many Palestinian people were forced off their homes (either by Jewish settlers or out of fear) and also caused a perpetual state of war between Israel and her neighbors. Even if this isn’t the ultimate fault of Israel, we can see that much evil has arisen from the original good of the Jews having their own homeland.[3]

In the end, some goods end up causing greater evils, which in turn should lead to greater goods, which in turn would inevitably lead to greater evils, and so on. This leads us to believe that at some point, good should stop allowing for evil, or the only evils left will be so horrendous that they would wipe out all of human existence. The evils should get greater if we look at the history of humanity and apply a G-G theodicy to it. And finally, at what point does the cycle end, or are we doomed to simply watch evil escalate until humans can’t stand it anymore?

Finally, G-G theodicies don’t adequately deal with natural evils because rarely do we see a “greater good” coming from a natural disaster. We can think of Haiti’s earthquake in 2010 and how they are still suffering from the devastating affects of the earthquake. Where is the greater good? Or what about Indonesia where over 200,000 people were killed, leaving even more without mothers, fathers, friends, husbands, wives, children, and so on? Shall we say that a greater good has come from the earthquake in Indonesia, and if it has, where is it? In all these cases, couldn’t God allow structural damage while disallowing the loss of life and still achieve the same “greater good”?

The ultimate problem with G-G theodicies is that they leave an undue burden on the theist to explain evil and find the greater good in every act of evil. I think back to an episode of the television show Scrubs where Dr. Cox takes the antagonistic position on evil while Nurse Roberts takes the affirmative position, arguing that God allows evil for a reason. The entire episode they go back and forth with Cox pointing to an evil and asking, “What’s the purpose in that,” while a short time later Roberts finds the purpose and shows him. But is such a defense necessary or even warranted? Why should theists have to point out the good in every act of evil when the good isn’t always apparent?

Ultimately, the G-G theodicies, while popular, are problematic in their logic, but also impractical as explanations. They place an undue burden on the theist without giving a satisfactory explanation. While sometimes God will allow an evil in order to bring about a greater good, to say that He does this in every case of evil is unfounded and unnecessary.

– Creation-Order Theodicy

A new alternative to the G-G theodicies is Bruce Little’s Creation-Order Theodicy (C-O). Rather than attempting to deny the existence of gratuitous evil or say that God allows all evil for a greater good, it embraces that gratuitous evil exists, but that this doesn’t count against God’s holiness or power. Ultimately, his theory is based on the idea that because humans have free will, God cannot logically prevent certain evils or most evils because this would limit human freedom. He argues,

“The creation order does not provide a means for God to filter out the bad choices from which He cannot bring about a greater good. Instead, the creation order allows for gratuitous evil as a corollary to the authenticity of the libertarian freedom.”[4]

Evil, even gratuitous evil, must be allowed because God allows free choices, which means we must be responsible for these choices. So why doesn’t God stop terrorists when they detonate an explosive in a crowded restaurant? If He prevented every act of evil, or most acts of evil, then free will wouldn’t exist because there wouldn’t be consequences to our choices because our choices would never be actualized. Continue reading

Rethinking the Problem of Evil: A Unified Theodicy (Part 1) – Introduction


As I compose this essay, storms have ravaged the southern United States, Alabama in particular, taking well over three hundred lives. In addition to the lives lost, homes have been destroyed, priceless heirlooms lost forever, and it has been a traumatic experience that will not leave the psyche of the victims anytime soon. As theists, in particular Christians, look to an event such as this we are forced to wonder why God would allow such a tragedy. Why would God allow this particular evil to befall innocent people? This question has been asked for thousands of years and, to date, a satisfactory answer has yet to be given.

The problem of theodicy has been a problem apologists have struggled with almost since the dawn of Christendom. When Rome was sacked in 410 by the Visigoths, the great Christian theologian and philosopher Saint Augustine found himself attempting to address why God has allowed such an evil. In fact, it is Augustine who was one of the first Christians to put together a structured theodicy (though some theodicies did exist prior to Augustine, specifically from some of the homilies by the Cappadocian Fathers)[1] that attempted to justify God’s actions rather than simply say that since He is God, He can do as He pleases.

While Christianity in the East never developed a theodicy justifying God’s actions (though the East does have a type of theodicy), Christianity in the West has never ceased searching for a theodicy to explain why God allows evil. The problem of evil has led many individuals to conclude that either God doesn’t exist, or He does exist and simply doesn’t care about humanity. It is my firm belief, however, that if one were to draw from the Eastern Orthodox “theodicy” (one that looks to man’s free will and God’s answer in the cross) while using some of the philosophical arguments of Western Christianity, one could arrive at a theodicy that helps to avoid an end result of atheism, agnosticism, or deism when confronted with the problem of evil.

Of course, when discussing the problem of evil it would be appropriate to ask, “which problem of evil?” The problem of evil can actually be divided up into three different categories: (1) The logical problem of evil, (2) the evidential problem of evil, and (3) the existential problem of evil. The logical problem of evil is concerned with whether or not a good God can co-exist with an evil world, or if one cancels the other out. The evidential problem of evil grants the idea that God can logically allow for evil, but instead argues that the amount of evil we see in this world leads us to conclude that God doesn’t exist or at least doesn’t care about us. Finally, the existential problem of evil deals with the personal evil we experience in our own lives, sometimes so great that it shakes our faith in God.

To date, no one theodicy has adequately addressed all three problems. While in the West certain theodicies have dealt with a particular category, to my knowledge no theodicy has been offered to work with all three divisions, at least not in a manner that is intellectually and personally satisfying. Thus, my goal with this essay is to provide a cohesive explanation on why God allowed evil in the first place and why He allows specific evils. I plan to accomplish this goal by turning to philosophy, early Christian writers (as viewed through the teachings of Saint John of Damascus)[2], and Scripture. Certainly this is no easy task, but it is a worthy one.

Before providing an introduction to the sections of my essay, I should note first and foremost that I do not accept my Unified Theodicy as complete or without problems. There are some answers and problems with it that I struggle with and I’m unsure about, so do expect my views to change concerning this theodicy. Rather, I am writing it in the hopes of starting a dialogue – or continuing a dialogue begun by Dr. Bruce Little – of finding a better theodicy, one beyond a “greater good” theodicy. While I believe that what I am currently offering is more complete than other alternative theodicies I’ve seen, it is by no means complete in its own right. It is my hope that someone far better than I will build upon what I have composed, or tear it apart and build something better; so long as an answer is found, I do not care.

In providing my Unified Theodicy I will compose seven sections and draw upon the works of three Christian writers (Alvin Plantinga, Bruce Little, and John of Damascus). I use Plantinga to explain the logical problem of evil with his free will defense and Little to address the evidential problem of evil with his Creation-Order Theodicy. In turn, I use John of Damascus (or the Damascene as I will refer to him throughout this essay) to answer the perceived shortcomings in Plantinga’s arguments as well as Little’s. Likewise, I justify my own Unified Theodicy by turning to the Damascene and to Scripture (in particular the book of Job).

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