PH320w: Philosophy of Religion
Class Handout #3

"To Whom Are Theodicists Talking?"

by Forrest E. Baird

Abstract:
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.

In his recent book, Theology and the Problem of Evil(1), Kenneth Surin mounts a vehement attack on what he calls "theoretical theodicy." He claims that the attempts of Plantinga, Swinburne, Hick, and others to answer the problem of evil on a theoretical level will bring little comfort to the suffering of the world and, in fact, adds to the evil of the world. Throughout his argument, Surin assumes that theodicy only has one audience. He states that theodicy begins with the assumption that there is a God and proceeds to explain the ways of this God:

...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.


I. Traditional "Speculative" Atheists.

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, Hence we must conclude from the existence of evil that there cannot be an omnipotent, benevolent God.(10)

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:

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)

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

...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)

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)


II. "Moral" Atheists.

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)


III. Believers.

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:

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)

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)


IV. Sufferers.

While discussing Ivan Karamazov, Surin makes the following point:

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)

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:

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)

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:

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)

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:

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)

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.


V. Conclusion.

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)


ENDNOTES

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.


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