Theodicists are frequently unclear about the audience they are addressing. I maintain that there are at least four different audiences for theodicy: 1) the "traditional" atheist; 2) the "moral" atheist; 3) the believer; and 4) the sufferer. I argue that each of these groups raises different questions but many proposed "solutions" to the problem of evil do not recognize this. Many criticisms of theodicies also ignore the "target audience" for which a theodicy was written. I conclude that any proposed theodicy must first be clear about the audience to which it is directed.
...Theodicy is inaugurated by an act of accusation. That is to say, it is initiated by the theodicist's opponent, who, like Job, accuses God of creating a world in which the burden of suffering and evil is seen to be too onerous...In this perspective God exists, as the One who is accused.(2)
This means that the audience for theodicy is the person who
accepts that there is a God, but questions whether or not this
God is good, loving, etc. The problem of evil, then, is not for
the traditional atheist, but for the troubled "believer."
But is this the only audience for theodicy? Are there not other
audiences that need to be addressed? Theodicists are frequently
unclear about the identity of the antagonists against whom they
must try to defend God. The "forms of life" out of which the
question arises are usually not examined before a proposed
solution is advanced. As a result, the "answers" to the problem
of evil often miss their targets. In addition many criticisms of
various theodicies assume one target audience when the theodicy
is apparently written for quite another audience.
It is my contention that before one can properly set about answering the problem of evil one must first answer the following: Who is asking the question? I believe that there are four possible groups of interlocutors: traditional "speculative" atheists,(3) "moral" atheists,(4) believers, and sufferers.(5) Each of these four groups have separate interests, pose separate questions, and each is looking for a different answer.
Many theodicists assume that the only questioner (or at least the only questioner they feel compelled to answer) is the traditional atheist (or "atheologian"). To the traditional atheist the problem of evil is generally understood as an intellectual barrier to belief in a good, all-powerful God. The question is usually posed in terms of the supposed logical incoherence between certain basic beliefs of Christianity, Judaism, or Islam. Beginning with David Hume(6) and formulated more fully in the famous articles of J.L. Mackie(7) and H.J. McCloskey,(8) the claim is made that to assert that there is a God who is both good and all-powerful is logically incompatible with the presence of evil in the world--or at least with the amount of evil in the world. The problem of evil is, in Mackie's words,
...a logical problem, the problem of clarifying and reconciling a number of beliefs: it is not a scientific problem that might be solved by further observations, or a practical problem that might be solved by a decision or an action.(9)
The conclusion reached by the traditional "speculative" atheist
is that the presence of evil excludes the existence of God. As
McCloskey succinctly puts it at the end of his study,
This approach presents a "minimal" problem. It is not seeking
reasons for believing that God does, in fact, exist nor does it
ask for a full-fledged theology. It simply presents the theist
with a supposed logical contradiction. Accordingly, theodicies
that attempt to answer this audience are themselves "minimal" in
what they do. Those, such as Alvin Plantinga, who develop these
theodicies are generally content to show that the atheist has not
sufficiently made the case, the charge of logical contradiction
is not clear, and the burden of proof rests with the traditional
atheist. In fact, Plantinga does not consider his work worthy of
the title of "theodicy": he claims only to be making a "defense."
At the end of his argument he is content with the following:
Such a modest program for theodicy is considered unacceptable to
some. Surin, for example, attacks Plantinga's "minimalism"
claiming that the Free Will Defense as developed by Plantinga,
while perhaps logically consistent, is "theologically
incomplete."(12) Others have complained that approaches like
Plantinga's which focus on the logical problem are existentially
insufficient. Michael Peterson, for example, claims that such a
"fixation on formal matter alone is sterile and paralyzing."(13)
There is no question that Plantinga's defense does not develop a
complete theology nor that it is not emotionally satisfying--Plantinga himself freely admits that. But the real question is:
does Plantinga meet the challenge of the attackers? If the
attack is a minimal one--say a question about the logical
compatibility of certain statements about God--then why should
not the response be a minimal one? If Plantinga is giving a
Christian reply to charge A, does it make sense to say, "Ah, but
he has said nothing at all about B, C, or D--therefore what he
says about A is worthless, false, and/or dangerous to the faith"?
Surin's implied demand for a complete theology shows that he has
failed to recognize the audience to whom Plantinga is
responding.(14)
Richard Swinburne(15) also attempts to answer the traditional
atheist. Swinburne has elected to take on the second question
posed by the traditional atheist, i.e., whether the existence of
God is compatible with the amount of evil in the world.
Swinburne claims that all the evil in the world is a necessary
precondition for persons to learn right and wrong. Persons need
to experience or observe the effects of evil in order to learn
what they should and should not do.
Surin mounts a vehement attack on Swinburne's theodicy.(16) The
basic problem, explains Surin, is that Swinburne
Instead of this apologetic approach to theodicy, Surin claims
that the whole of theodicy consists in "answering" the anguished
cries of the suffering. Surin is especially troubled by
Swinburne's suggestion that the cries of the innocent may have
some purpose in God's over-all plan for the universe. Surin
maintains that such an instrumental view of evil is morally
repugnant "for the victim"(18) of evil. While I shall have more to
say on this latter objection, it is important to note again the
issue of audience. Swinburne clearly directs his theodicy to the
atheist while Surin generally holds that the victims of suffering
are the only proper audience for theodicy.(19)
Aside from traditional "speculative" atheists, there are those
who, like Ivan Karamazov in The Brothers Karamazov,(20) protest
against God while not denying the existence of God. Stewart
Sutherland describes Ivan as "an atheist who `accepts God'"(21) or
a "moral" atheist. The question here is not whether or not God
exists, that is a given, but how one can trustingly believe in
and accept such a God. Like Ivan, "moral" atheists accuse God of
being cruel and seek a morally acceptable answer as to why God
allows the pernicious evil of this world. While they may also
formulate the problem in terms of supposed logical
contradictions, "moral" atheists are seeking more than a
"dissolution" of the problem or debates on who has the "burden of
proof."
John Roth is one of few who attempt to speak exclusively to this
audience. He has developed what he calls a "protest theodicy" to
answer the "moral" atheist.(22) Essentially he agrees with Ivan
Karamazov that no eschatological hope could ever justify the
evils of the world. Any instrumental view of evil is
unacceptable. Roth accepts the omnipotence of God, but denies
that God is also omnibenevolent. There is, says Roth, a dark
side to God. The key issue then becomes "whether we should run
the risk of relating to a God who is really master of the
universe but much less than perfectly good by any standards that
we can comprehend."(23) Roth claims that we should take the risk
and calls on us to "protest" against God; to join with Moses and
argue with God for the good of God's people.(24)
Most theodicies assume that those who are posing the problem
stand outside of trusting belief in God, but that is simply not
the case. In an oft quoted passage in Job the author makes clear
his trusting devotion to God: "Though he slay me, yet will I
trust in him." Yet in the very same sentence Job goes on to say,
"...but I will maintain mine own ways before him."(25) Though he
trusts God fully, Job wants to understand, on his terms, why he
is being afflicted. Job represents a third audience for
theodicy: those who believe in and accept the traditional Judeo-Christian God, but do not understand why God allows evil. This
audience is not affected by the theodicies of Plantinga,
Swinburne, or Roth. As Plantinga, for example, makes clear:
Some theodicists have tried to address this audience almost
exclusively. If the atheist (of either variety) listens in, so
much the better. Particularly in the popular Christian book
market one can find dozens of books addressed to this audience.(27)
While discussing Ivan Karamazov, Surin makes the following point:
But the second question in this quotation does not "correspond"
to the first. The first question, that of the sufferer, is a
very different question from the second, that of the observer.
While the observer may attempt to theorize from the standpoint of
the sufferer, there is a fundamental difference between the two.
Regardless of her desire to stand with the sufferer, the observer
is not suffering and hence the question raised will not
"correspond." In fact, the sufferer represents a fourth audience
for theodicy. This final audience is less clearly defined than
the first three. There are suffering "traditional, speculative"
atheists, suffering "moral" atheists, and suffering believers.
But being in anguish does make a difference in how one approaches
the problem of evil. While there are many differences between
the suffering traditional atheist and the suffering believer, for
instance, there is something about actually suffering that makes
this a different category.
Rather than listen to the voices of those who would "speak for
the sufferers" or "stand in solidarity with them," let us look to
the "narratives" of one group of sufferers: those dying of
incurable diseases. While this is by no means the only group of
sufferers to be considered, there are a number of books by and
about persons dying of incurable diseases. By examining this
literature perhaps we can hear the voices of these sufferers and
hear the question they pose for theodicy.
The first thing that is striking about such narratives is that a
great many of them do not mention God, or even religion, at all.
Those who were not particularly religious before they contracted
the disease tended to stay non-religious. While Kubler-Ross's
"second stage"(29) of anger is generally present, it is usually not
directed at God. For example, Archie Hanlan's account of his
slow death by ALS (Lou Gehrig disease)(30) is filled with anger:
anger at the dehumanization of teaching hospitals, anger at the
process of dying, anger at the economic consequences of his
impending death, and so on. But nowhere does he raise any
questions about the relationship of God to his suffering.
Stewart Alsop, in telling the story of his own death by
leukemia,(31) mentions going into a church, but realizes that the
church makes no difference to him. He "did not belong there" and
leaves without asking any questions of God. These two are not
exceptions: there are numerous first person accounts or stories
of family members dying that do not raise the problem of evil at
all.(32) From a brief survey of the literature it would appear
that these suffering non-believers are not interested in
theodicy. The question is simply not asked.
Turning to the suffering believer, there is a tremendous amount
of literature in the field. Several theologians and philosophers
have written first person accounts of the death of loved ones.
Among them: Henri Nouwen on the death of his mother,(33) Nicholas
Wolterstorff on the death of his son,(34) and C.S. Lewis on the
death of his wife.(35) In addition a number of "ordinary
believers" have written books attempting to explain their
suffering or share their insights with other believers.(36) Some
of writers of the books in this latter category appear to be
stuck at the first of Kubler-Ross's levels: denying the horror of
pain and death. But these books do speak the word of the
sufferer and raise a voice that must be heard by the theodicist.
These narratives tend to highlight one point: rarely is the
problem of evil raised by the one in extremis. As Joseph Fichter
points out:
Frequently it is the observers of suffering that pose the problem
of evil, not the sufferers themselves. While they are the ones
with the "best case" to present, the suffering rarely raise the
question at all. They are too busy trying to cope with the pain
and misery of their lives to have time for philosophical
reflection. As Surin recognizes:
What is surprising is that those sufferers who do raise the
question of why God allowed their suffering tend to give the same
answer: they claim that God "used" them to teach or reach others.
The suffering of one person is somehow justified as a means by
which God reaches others. For example, here is a mother's
account of her daughter's pain:
When Surin proposes to speak for the suffering and presents their
outrage at the suggestion that God "uses" people, one must wonder
if the suffering appreciate his advocacy? Many sufferers have
wondered themselves exactly what Swinburne wonders and Surin
finds so morally repugnant--i.e., whether or not their suffering
might be for some higher good by allowing others to learn from
it. Surin, by defending them, is actually taking away a reason
they give (whether it is philosophically or theologically sound)
for their suffering.
In order to effectively develop a theodicy, one must first
determine who is raising the problem of evil. Each of the four
possible audiences mentioned above will ask a different question
and require different answers. To assume one audience and then
attack other theodicies for not addressing it is unfair. To
assume one audience and ignore the others is ineffective. To
speak for one audience without listening to what they really say,
is irresponsible. Theodicy must begin with a clear recognition
of the audience. To whom are theodicists talking?(40)
1. Kenneth Surin, Theology and the Problem of Evil (New York:
Basil Blackwell, 1986).
2. id., p. 107, ftnt. 21.
3. is term is taken from Stewart Sutherland, Atheism and the
Rejection of God: Contemporary Philosophy and The Brothers
Karamazov (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1977), p. 30.
4. Ibid., p. 25.
5. Actually, the last of these four classifications, the sufferers,
cuts across the other three. There can be suffering atheists,
suffering seekers, and suffering believers, but the question
posed by those in extremis is sufficiently different in nature as
to be a separate category.
6. David Hume, Dialogues Concerning Natural Religion, ed. Nelson
Pike (New York: Bobbs-Merrill Co., 1970).
7. J.L. Mackie, "Evil and Omnipotence," Mind 64:254 (1955),
reprinted in God and Evil, ed. Nelson Pike (Englewood Cliffs,
N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1964), pp. 46-60. Mackie claims that
because of the fact of evil, religious beliefs not only "lack
rational support, but...they are positively irrational...the
several parts of the essential theological doctrine are
inconsistent with one another." (p. 46 in the Pike reprint.)
8. H.J. McCloskey, "God and Evil," Philosophical Quarterly 10:39
(1960), reprinted in God and Evil, ed. Nelson Pike (Englewood
Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1964), pp. 61-84. McCloskey claims,
"Evil is a problem for the theist in that a contradiction is
involved in the fact of evil on the one hand, and the belief in
the omnipotence and perfection of God on the other." (p. 61 in
Pike.)
9. Mackie, in Pike, p. 47.
10. McCloskey, in Pike, p. 84.
11. Alvin Plantinga, The Nature of Necessity (Oxford: Clarendon
Press, 1974), p. 193.
12. rin, p. 76.
13. Michael Peterson, "Recent Work on the Problem of Evil."
American Philosophical Quarterly 20 (1983), p. 335.
14. Surin does point out three other problems with Plantinga's
defense (ibid., pp. 74-78). One of Surin's objections raises the
appropriate question of whether or not Plantinga's minimal
defense is compatible with a complete theology. Robert Ackermann
("An Alternative Free Will Defense." Religious Studies 18 (1982),
365-72) makes a similar point in arguing that Plantinga's
understanding of God is un-Biblical. But that is a very
different than objecting to the minimalism per se.
15. Richard Swinburne, The Existence of God (Oxford: Clarendon
Press, 1979), pp. 200-24.
16. Surin, pp. 78-86.
17. Ibid., p. 83.
18. Ibid., p. 81.
19. Surin makes a similar argument (though with a good deal less
passion) against John Hick's "Soul-Making Theodicy" (Ibid., pp.
92-96).
20. Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Brothers Karamazov, trans. Constance
Garnett (New York: Modern Library, Inc., 1950), Book V, Chapter
4.
21. Sutherland, p. 25.
22. John Roth, "A Theodicy of Protest," Encountering Evil: Live
Options in Theodicy ed. by Stephen T. Davis (Atlanta: John Knox,
1981), pp. 7-22, 30-37.
23. Ibid., p. 17.
24. There are, of course, a number of problems with Roth's
theodicy. Like process theodicy, it seems to "solve" the problem
of evil by rejecting the traditional understanding of God. In
that sense it is more of a dismantling of the problem than a
solution. (For criticisms of Roth's position, see the responses
of Stephen T. Davis, David R. Griffin, John H. Hick, and
Frederick Sontag in Encountering Evil, pp. 22-30.)
25. Job 13:15, KJV.
26. Alvin Plantinga, God, Freedom, and Evil (Grand Rapids, Mich.:
Eerdmans, 1974), p. 29.
27. Two examples: John Wenham, The Enigma of Evil (Grand Rapids,
Mich.: Zondervan, 1985) which attempts to explain some of the
difficult passages in Scripture and C.S. Lewis's classic work,
The Problem of Pain (New York: Macmillan, 1962).
28. Surin, p. 102.
29. Elizabeth Kubler-Ross, On Death and Dying (New York:
Macmillan, 1969). (The five stages are: (1) denial and
isolation, (2) anger, (3) bargaining, (4) depression, and (5)
acceptance.)
30. Archie J. Hanlan, Autobiography of Dying (Garden City, N.Y.:
Doubleday & Co., 1979).
31. Stewart Alsop, Stay of Execution: A Sort of Memoir
(Philadelphia: Lippincott, 1973).
32. Some examples: Rose Levit, Ellen: A Short Life Long
Remembered (San Francisco: Chronicle Books, 1974) and Doris Lund,
Eric (Philadelphia: Lippincott, 1974) both written by mothers
about the deaths of their children; Martha Weinman Lear,
Heartsounds (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1980) and Gerda Lerner,
A Death of One's Own (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1978) both
written by wives about the deaths of their husbands.
33. Henri J.M. Nouwen, In Memoriam (Notre Dame, Ind.: Ave Maria
Press, 1980) and A Letter of Consolation (San Francisco: Harper &
Row, 1982).
34. Nicholas Wolterstorff, Lament for a Son (Grand Rapids, Mich.:
Eerdmans, 1987).
35. C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1962).
36. Some examples include: Nancy Brunson, Grieve Not for Wrightsie
(Plainfield, N.J.: Logos International, 1978), Shirley and Susan
Holdren, Why God Gave Me Pain (Chicago: Loyola University Press,
1984), and Margaret Woods Johnson, We Lived with Dying (Waco,
Tex.: Word, 1975).
37. Joseph H. Fichter, Religion and Pain: The Spiritual Dimensions
of Health Care (New York: Crossroads, 1981), p. 62.
38. Surin, p. 64.
39. Holdren, pp. 114-15.
40. A modified version of this paper was first presented as the
Resident's Lecture at the Institute for Ecumenical and Cultural
Research at St. John's University, Colleveville, Minnesota. I
wish to acknowledge the helpful suggestions I received following
that lecture. I also wish to thank Prof. Kenneth Surin for his
helpful criticisms and suggestions.
I therefore conclude that the Free Will Defense
successfully rebuts the charge of inconsistency brought
against the theist. If evil is a problem for the
believer, it is not that the existence of evil--moral
or natural--is inconsistent with the existence of
God.(11)
...Understands theodicy to consist in the endeavour to
reconcile the existence of evil with the being of a God
who might, or might not, exist; depending on whether or
not this reconciliation can be accomplished
successfully.(17)
II. "Moral" Atheists.
III. Believers.
Confronted with evil in his own life or suddenly coming
to realize more clearly than before the extent and
magnitude of evil, a believer in God may undergo a
crisis of faith...Neither a Free Will Defense nor a
Free Will Theodicy is designed to be of much help or
comfort to one suffering from such a storm in the
soul...Neither is it to be thought of first of all as a
means of pastoral counselling. Probably neither will
enable someone to find peace with himself and with God
in the face of the evil that the world contains. But
then, of course, neither is intended for that
purpose.(26)
IV. Sufferers.
Ivan...is asking the question: 'how far may someone in
extremis be justified in asserting that God is good,
loving etc.?' (Or correspondingly: 'How far may we,
when confronted by this person's sufferings, be
justified in asserting that God is good, loving,
etc.?)(28)
An experienced hospital chaplain put it this way: "When a
person is in crisis, he doesn't have the power to think or
reflect about the crisis. The best you can do is assure the
individual that God is there to be of help, but even then
you are not sure that you got the idea through to the
patient." The person is distraught; pain drives everything
else from his mind.(37)
It may be that the interests of those who have to
confront the more painful manifestations of evil are
such that the question of intelligibility of evil per
se is (to these persons) a matter of no real
consequence; far more important (to these persons) will
be the question of how the evils which afflict them are
to be overcome or staved off.(38)
Susan believed God gave her pain for a reason. As I
witnessed her personality blossom, her caring ways
affect others, and her internal serenity help fellow
patients accept Faith as the only answer to life's
problems, it was difficult not to recognize her as His
tool.(39)
V. Conclusion.