Often when dealing with the problem of evil, we look at:
- The Philosophical Argument (God does not cause evil; the difference between natural and caused evil; free will)
- Theological Arguments (Christ’s redemptive work on the Cross addressing evil; God’s conditional, permissive Will; The mystery of evil; and the mystery of providence in conjunction with faith)
I don’t want to add a new category of argument here, but under the matter of providence that I think is neglected or could be fleshed our more. I’ll call it “contextualizing the temporal.”
Often atheists and agnostics go into this question rooted, understandably, in the position that after this life there is likely nothing. As a result, carving out the maximal amount of goodness in this temporary existence for ourselves and others becomes the primary initiative. This is how the atheist contextualizes his own existence, and in a certain sense the highest good for him/her is what can be existentially and actually meaningful in the now. To them, this is pragmatic, concrete, and steers one away from a lofty (theological) “hope” of something better which is “the worst of all evils, prolonging the suffering of men” (Nietzsche). Christianity that doesn’t integrate Christ into social justice or generally all moral matters only reinforces this.
This is where atheists and theologians then begin to talk past each other, in my opinion. This happens because a fundamental assumption or premise has not been defined or perhaps defended. That would be that anything that causes the untimely demise of another in such a way both in regard to an actual death or the quality of life is an unredeemable situation. It’s not stated, but it’s the unconscious weight added to the distressing argument that those with genuine faith don’t get ensured or fooled by.
I’d propose that on this level, the atheists is “begging the question” in so far as he sees the death or suffering of one to be an unredeemable disaster that cannot be found to be redemptive. It cannot be redemptive because “this life is it.” And there lies the contextual assumption that God does not exist, nor the afterlife, influencing one to interpret suffering in only an atheistic context. It’s circular, or begging the question.
For the Christian we might add, that the better problem of evil, while being distinct from this temporal existence that is harder to grasp, is that of hell. But this is altogether another question, unrelated to the first. The answer differs, because in such a case, there is nothing redemptive about hell relative to the souls there present, there is no hope, and yet suffering is prolonged indefinitely.
There are explanations that suffice for this, but one must admit that the question remains entirely different, contextually.
For the Christian this life only begins to be understood in the context of eternity here after. The cave of Plato is this life, but eternity is what remains outside. If we were to only live in one room of our house, it wouldn’t make sense to us, because it’s the house together with a bathroom and kitchen and bedroom that facilitates it’s function and the orientation or purpose of each room. Likewise this life only makes sense when it’s oriented towards the “things that are eternal” to “hold to the things that endure.”
Under this context we see suffering as a “slight affliction” in contrast to “the glory yet to be revealed.” The Saints suffer all things, yet are not broken by them, because they have an eternal perspective, a reason for hope. We look at the disaster of the cross, something of a stumbling block to unbelievers, and in this torturous device made by our ingenuity, we now see the very reality of our redemption. And by that cross, all crosses.
The fact is, to believe in the afterlife or not unconsciously perhaps affects our ability to go into this debate. But the onus seem to be detrimental in the atheist who constructively tries to disprove God as self-contradictory yet in another way presumes latently in that argument God does not exist by the manner he weighs suffering in this life.
Photo: Waldemar Brandt, Unsplash / PD-US
