The Verdict before the Exposition

The problem of evil has always challenged the existence of an all-good and all-powerful God. It is asked: If God had the power to get rid of evil in His creation why would He not wish to do so unless He is not good? If God had the goodness to desire evil out of His creation why would He not do so unless He is not powerful? Why, in the end, does innocence suffer evil in the world God created?

These questions have been present in every generation and it would seem that all too often the concept of evil has been perceived as excessively troubling to the intellect and wholly unanswerable to the traditional theist - theodicy seems to be untenable to the skeptic's mind. However, it need not be necessarily so if one identifies the handicap through which man often views the world around him, a handicap that is a result of lacking a universal, wholistic worldview.

Each thing has a purpose that is only discernible when seen in relation to something larger than itself. A tree, for instance, does not seem to have a purpose if evaluated simply as an individual living piece of wood. It must be seen within the midst of the other living things that surround its particular existence. These things use the tree for shelter, fuel, nourishment, and even in some cases simply admire its beauty. By first recognizing the tree in the scope of its immediate and remote surroundings the idea of this particular tree becomes comprehensible to us.

The same goes for all objects we encounter. A hand's purpose and function can only be recognized when it is observed as part of the arm; the arm's purpose is seen in relation to its membership to the entire body. But the hand investigated as an isolated lump of flesh and bone cannot provide us with any notion of why it might exist unless we see it as one small component in man's interaction with the world around him.

Similarly, a car seen in isolation of the greater framework of human travel will not provide us with the whyness of its existence. Neither by seeing it as metal, plastic, and rubber fabricated together to form a distinct thing that moves, nor by witnessing its activity of covering great distance at great speed is the mind's curiosity satisfied as it delves into the question of why humans need to move so far and so fast to begin with. Until this prior and more universal question is answered the car remains a mystery to us.

Seeing things in isolation from other things can never answer that why question. At best, the adoption of such a specifically-particular outlook on the world can only elucidate how things work in minute detail, but unfortunately such fragmented vision allows each particular thing's ultimate purpose to remain hidden from our sight. By believing that universal realities exist, teleology becomes a graspable science, for then one can see particulars in relation to how they might fit into universals. Until one ceases perceiving reality as a random collection of disconnected chapters, the problem of evil itself will remain as elusive as ever. Instead, reality must be seen as a narrative whole, where, though one may not see the complete story, still one knows that there is a plot, a climax, and a conclusion.

In order for theodicy to be offered it must be asked: how could evil fit into the universal picture of the cosmos if we are still to hold the idea that the cosmos is a product of a good and all-powerful God?

When one thinks of evil, often he is only thinking of individual instances of evil that have happened or could potentially occur. Even when we talk of evil in general, quite frequently we tend to think of the general conglomeration of particular instances of evil. Like all other things though, when evil is seen in isolation from other things (e.g. goodness) it cannot provide us with any meaning as to why it exists. Indeed, the apparent lack of its meaning causes us to deem the Giver of meaning as meaningless Himself. The unfortunate situation we find ourselves in is the inability to escape from a meaningless world when we ensnare ourselves in this excessively particular mindset.

The answer to how a benevolent and omnipotent God can exist alongside evil can be given by first, accepting that there is indeed a universal story of history, and then second, by admitting our ignorance of the entirety of this story. Man, being the creature that he is, is incapable of grasping the ultimate unity of the universe. "To accept everything is an exercise, to understand everything is a strain," Chesterton advises (G.K Chesterton, Orthodoxy). Man simply does not know the complete plan of space and time, he is unable to perceive with his finite mind the infinite story coming from the mind of God and so he cannot accurately say that evil has no meaningful place in the world. It would be a strain for him to do so.

To many, claiming ignorance might sound like the weakest of surrenders. But is it not the only accurate analysis of man's position? Man, whose "span is 70 years or 80 for him who is strong"(Ps 90:10), ought not to arrogantly ascribe to himself the knowledge of all things under the sun as the scope of his experience is, indeed, so small. Is this not precisely what Job, who knew and suffered evil all too well, did? As he defends his innocence and attacks the seeming injustice that results from an innocent man's afflictions, Job is answered from the whirlwind by God who lays out a brief picture of the breadth of the universe and man's small spot within it (c.f. Job 38).

This is essentially Dostoevsky's answer to the problem of evil in The Brothers Karamazov. In the fictional story, all the knowable evidence is against Dmitri as he is accused of murdering his father - much like in the non-fictional trial of God in our world all the individual instances of evil stack up as evidence against His existence. However, it is with reading the novel all the way through that the reader becomes aware of further details which vindicate Dmitri. It is as if, before dismissing the existence of God because of the existence of evil, Dostoevsky is asking us: Do you have all the evidence?

Often enough we act like the King of Hearts and demand the verdict before the trial: "'Not yet, not yet!' the Rabbit hastily interrupted. 'There's a great deal to come before that!'" (Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland). Or we act like another king, Aegeus, who prematurely leapt to his death at the first sight of the black sails flapping on the Athenian vessel as it returned from Crete. Did those sails indicate what he thought (that his son had died) or was he too quick in his assessment to his own fatal detriment?

Man often sees the situation as either evil exists and a good and powerful God does not or a good and powerful God exists and evil does not. However, it need not be seen in such stark dichotomy. Both the existence of evil and the existence of a good and powerful God can be conceived as existing alongside each other as long as man remembers the limited extent of his perception of reality. To equate the truth of one premise (evil's existence) directly with the conclusion (God does not exist) is misguided. Man must never forget he is not omniscient and there are other premises to be considered. It is the fool who imitates King Aegeus as he prematurely leaps to his death at the first sight of those sails.

This is why a type of Socratic theology that is willing to admit ignorance so as to gain insight says more to the thinking man about God than any attempt to justify particular instances of evil. The negative theology of Pseudo-Dionysius or of St. Thomas Aquinas is precisely about this in terms of knowing God by negation. Theological reflection can only go so far in attempting to understand the ways of God. Silence many times conveys more profitable wisdom than sophisticated chatter. The Christian answer to the problem of evil can only exist in this acknowledgment of ignorance: we cannot see the whole collection and interaction of events that make up history. Yet, we can know that God does not permit an evil without having a plan to redeem it somehow.

Of course, this is typified in the greatest evil having occurred-the death of Christ the Lord, bringing about the greatest good-death's defeat by His resurrection. Time and time again, it is a good man's suffering that proves to be the fertilized ground from which great good can grow. This mysterious truth might cause us to flip our original question and not ask why do innocent people suffer, but why some do not (c.f. C.S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain). Evil, though incomprehensible often enough, proves to be a springboard from which good can enter the story. And what great good there is in the world. The fictional character of Syme puts it best: "The mystery of the world...Bad is so bad, that we cannot but think good an accident; good is so good, that we feel certain that evil could be explained" (G.K. Chesterton, The Man Who Was Thursday).

This does not fully vindicate the presence of evil in the world, but it can shed new light on it. In the meantime, we must be content that the Author of the story has Himself entered into all its chapters- Himself drinking the chalice of suffering (c.f. Mt 20:22, 26:39)- and ever remains there with us until His plan comes to its fruition in suffering's redemption.