How Can God Have All Power and Be Loving and Yet There Be Evil?
by Gregory E. Ganssle
What philosophers call "the problem of evil" is a family of arguments from the existence or nature of evil to the conclusion that God does not or probably does not exist. The oldest form of the argument is that the mere existence of evil is logically incompatible with God's existence. If God exists, evil could not, and if evil exists, God could not. I call this argument the "charge of contradiction." The claim is that there is a logical contradiction in asserting that God is all-powerful, God is all-loving, and that evil exists. Wouldn't this kind of God eliminate all evil? The existence of God, in this view, is on a par with a square circle. Given the existence of evil, it is impossible for God to exist. The challenge is to show that theism is logically consistent.
Few today, including atheists, think this argument succeeds. If God might have a good reason to allow evil, then it is possible that both God and evil exist. We need not know what God's actual reasons are, but if it is possible He has one, then the argument is defeated. Most think it is possible that God has good reasons to allow evil and that, therefore, there is no contradiction between God's existence and the existence of evil.
Today, the most important form of the argument against the existence of God from evil is called the "evidential argument from evil." The one who presses this argument admits that the existence of God and the reality of evil are not logically incompatible. The argument is that the amount and the kinds of evil we find in the world is strong evidence against the existence of God.
Even though it is possible that God has a reason to allow the evils we find in the world, it does not seem likely that there are good reasons for some of the evils we see. We cannot prove that there is no good reason, but if we have lots of cases in which it seems as though there is none, we will conclude that there probably is no good reason to allow these evils. If it is true that probably there is no good reason to allow these cases of evil, then it is probable that God does not exist. This argument is called the "evidential argument" because we cannot prove that there is no good reason to allow the particular evils we are thinking about. These evils do, then, look like good evidence that God does not exist.
In order to begin to answer this argument, we must think about the claim that it is probable that no good reason exists to allow the evil in question. Why should we believe this is true? The one who puts this argument forward will appeal to cases of evil in which it is difficult to find a reason that might fit. Does this mean we ought to conclude that it is probable that there is no reason? No.
The reasoning here goes as follows: It seems like there is no reason to allow this evil therefore, probably there is no reason to allow it. Sometimes this kind of reasoning is strong and other times it is weak. Let me illustrate. The argument is of the form: It seems like there is no x, therefore, probably there is no x. The Bible has numerous cases where one could mount this argument. Let's take the case of Lazarus's death in John 11. Lazarus was likely in the prime of his life. He's a good man and a close friend of Jesus. Lazarus becomes ill and dies. The citizens of his village, Bethany, could see such an evil and after three days of mourning come to the conclusion that there is no reason for this. Therefore, God doesn't exist. Then Jesus comes to Bethany. Lazarus's sisters, Mary and Martha, chastise Jesus for not getting there sooner. As we read John's account, we see that unbeknownst to Mary and Martha, Jesus had reasons for delaying. Moreover, there were reasons Lazarus was permitted to die in the prime of his life. When Jesus arrived at Lazarus's tomb, He prayed and then called Lazarus to come out of the tomb four days after his death. The reason for Lazarus's sickness, death, Jesus' delay, and Lazarus's resuscitation was that God's glory might be seen.
Some of the citizens might have thought they had a strong case against the existence of God the three days after Lazarus died. But subsequent events place the evil of Lazarus's death in a much different context. In light of this context, Lazarus's death is seen to be part of a much greater good than anyone in Bethany could imagine.
The pattern that we see in this and numerous other biblical cases shows that there are times when we can't say, "If God had a reason to allow this particular case of evil, we would probably know what it is."
There are two reasons we can't always make this claim. First, we can figure out reasons that God might have for many (perhaps most) of the evils in the world. For example, both human freedom and a stable, cause-effect universe are necessary for any meaningful action. Meaningful action, then, may be a reason that God allows various kinds of evil. Second, it is reasonable to think that God will have reasons that we cannot grasp for allowing evils in our lives. In fact, to think that we should be able to figure out God's reasons for allowing every case of evil implies that we think God is not much smarter than we are. If God is the almighty creator of the universe, there will be evil the reason for which we cannot discern. This is exactly what we should expect if there is a God. It cannot be counted as evidence against God.
So even though it might seem, at first glance, that there are no good reasons to allow certain evils we see, this does not provide strong evidence that these evils are really unjustified. The argument that the kinds of evil we see make it unlikely that God exists has been seen to be pretty weak.
The philosophical problem of evil has to do with what is reasonable to believe. To what degree is it reasonable to believe in God in light of what we seem to know about evil? We have seen that evil does not contradict God's existence. Nor is it strong evidence against the existence of God. The evil in the world, then, does not make it unreasonable to believe in an all-powerful and all-loving God.
What Does the Bible Say About Euthanasia?
by Nigel Cameron
Euthanasia is any act or omission, in the context of sickness or disability, that intentionally causes death. As such, it has become a topic of contemporary debate. But it is nothing new. The killing and abandonment of the sick and elderly have been common practices in cultures around the globe, and one of the most powerful impacts of the gospel has been to defend the defenseless and to devalue those without economic benefit to society.
In the Greco-Roman world of the early church, euthanasia was common and widely approved. The powerful pagan protest against physicians who had taken the Hippocratic oath, repudiating euthanasia and assisted suicide, came in a context in which euthanasia could be an appealing option in the face of chronic disease or uncontrollable pain. What is remarkable about the resurgence of interest in this primitive approach to sickness and suffering in our own day is that we now have far greater medical and other resources with which to cope with these challenges. It is perhaps the surest indicator that our understanding of human nature is being reinvented as the culture turns its back on its Judeo-Christian roots.
The starting point for a biblical understanding of human nature is the idea that human beings are made in the image of God. It is clear from Genesis 1:26-27 that this applies to all members of the human species. Homo sapiens is distinguished from all other "kinds" by our bearing the likeness of our Maker. The imago Dei (image of God) is what makes us the beings we are, and it is in place wherever there are members of our species. This godly image plainly applies to those who are sick and disabled as well as those in the flower of human giftedness. Those with severe mental impairments, including the so-called persistent vegetative state, remain full members of the human species and therefore bear God's image.
A definition of euthanasia that focuses on the intent to cause death is important, and in principle it distinguishes euthanasia from health care decisions affecting terminal patients when there is no intent to end life. The term "physician-assisted suicide" has been coined to promote voluntary euthanasia, but it is misleading. Voluntary euthanasia does entail a suicidal motive, and suicide is a sad but immoral case of homicide—the homicide of the self. But euthanasia always involves a homicide on the part of the physician, whether it comes through the prescription of lethal drugs or another method. And if it is legal, it involves a community policy decision which states that such lives are not worth living.
A distinction is often made between "active" and "passive" euthanasia, but this distinction can be misleading. If the intent is to bring about death, the moral accounting is the same. A more useful distinction lies among voluntary, involuntary, and nonvoluntary euthanasia. Voluntary euthanasia is the public policy goal of some activists and intellectuals who deny that they favor involuntary killing. Yet there are problems in defining adequate consent in the case of the seriously ill. For example, even some who favor voluntary euthanasia would consider Dr. Jack Kevorkian a serial killer, since even though he secured "consents," he preyed on the fears of lonely people. Moreover, there is the problem of "nonvoluntary" killing—the euthanasia of those who are not competent, such as Alzheimer's patients or infants, who constitute some of the prime candidates for an induced death.
The biblical doctrine of the sanctity of life of those in God's image offers a fundamental protection for patients, aging relatives, the handicapped, and the poor by ruling out the option of acting to bring about death. Job—the OT's great example of suffering and faithfulness—was challenged by his wife to take the euthanasia option: "Curse God and die!" (Jb 2:9). But he maintained his integrity and proclaimed in response, "Should we accept only good from God and not adversity?" (2:10).
Didn't the Church Oppose Galileo?
by Mark A. Kalthoff
Simple questions do not always have simple answers. "Didn't the church oppose Galileo?" is certainly one such question. Everyone "knows" the church opposed Galileo, but what does this mean?
Despite the complexity of Galileo's engagement with the church, there are several relevant facts that can be simply stated.
For one thing, every significant player in the Galileo affair was a committed Christian. This was no tale of a secular scientific community pitted against a backward, antiscientific church. The Roman Catholic Church provided greater patronage to astronomical study than did all other contemporary institutions combined.
That being said, straightforward readings of certain biblical passages (Gn 1; Jos 10:12; Pss 19:4-6; 93:1; 104:5,19; Ec 1:4-5) suggest an earth-centered cosmology with the sun revolving about a stationary earth. By the early seventeenth century, in the wake of the Protestant Reformation and the Roman Catholic Council of Trent, such a plain interpretation of these passages was normative throughout Christendom. Moreover, both common sense and the weight of contemporary scientific opinion opposed the idea of the earth's motion.
Hence, any public defender of the Copernican (sun-centered) cosmology would have to overcome two difficult challenges. He would have to supply conclusive scientific evidence for the earth's motion and the sun's fixity—something that was not then available, even to Galileo. In addition, he would have to provide expert theological guidance to explain how properly to interpret those biblical texts that seemingly contradicted the Copernican hypothesis. Galileo was not a theologian. He was a mathematician and natural philosopher.
Although Galileo believed that he possessed proof of the Copernican hypothesis (in his theory of the tides), he was mistaken. His theory was seriously flawed. Overconfidence in the strength of his case led Galileo to tread out of his area of expertise and into the theological territory of biblical interpretation. As a layman, he overstepped his bounds by presuming to give guidance on reading the Bible.
What did the Roman Catholic Church do? It acted prudently and conservatively by upholding the received biblical and scientific opinion of the day. In 1616 the Theological Consultors of the Holy Office (advisers to the Pope) declared the Copernican theory heretical and foolish. Protestant leaders, such as Martin Luther and John Calvin, had expressed similar disapproval of Copernicanism.
In 1633, Galileo was judged to be "vehemently suspected of heresy" and sentenced to house arrest for defending the Copernican hypothesis. Of greater significance is the fact that the church never formally condemned the Copernican theory ex cathedra. That is, it never formally made opposition to Copernicanism an article of faith. Neither has any Protestant denomination done so. The Pope, his advisers, and other Christian leaders may have erred in their personal opinions on the matter, but all stopped short of asserting anti-Copernicanism an official doctrine of Christianity. Galileo was punished as a Christian layman for overstepping his bounds in a theological matter (biblical interpretation) that touched on a scientific question. In the end this was a religious dispute about biblical interpretation between Christians within the Roman Catholic Church.
Did the church oppose Galileo? Yes, it did. But that opposition was grounded in a careful attempt to preserve both Christian orthodoxy and scientific integrity in a time of tumultuous change. The remarkable fact is that, despite the inclinations of its leaders, both Protestant and Catholic, the Christian churches never made opposition to Copernicanism an official article of faith.
Does the Bible Teach the Abuse of Nature?
by Steve W. Lemke
The answer to this question requires balancing and blending two truths.
1. God expects us to use nature. God commanded humans to have dominion over all of nature, subduing it and ruling over it (Gn 1:20-31). God gave persons broad latitude in their dominion over nature, including permission for humans to eat plants and animals for food (Gn 1:29-30; 9:1-3). Jesus demonstrated His absolute control over nature in events such as calming a storm (Mt 8:24-27) and causing a fig tree to wither (Mt 21:18-27). We thus have divine approval to use nature for our own needs and purposes. Good stewards are expected to maximize production by shrewd management of God-given resources (Mt 25:14-30).
2. God opposes the abuse of nature. Our having dominion over nature should not be confused with our owning nature. Humans do not own nature, because the earth is the Lord's (Lv 25:23; Ps 24:1; 50:10-11). We are given the natural world as a stewardship, not as a possession.
Scripture teaches that, as stewards of God's good creation, we should apply sound principles of land and resource management. In the agricultural regulations of OT law, for instance, the land was to lie fallow in the seventh year so its minerals could be replenished (Ex 23:10-11; Lv 25:1-22). In two key NT parables—the parable of the vineyard (Mt 21:33-44; Mk 12:1-12; Lk 20:9-19) and the parable of the talents (Mt 25:14-30)—human beings are depicted as stewards or managers of God's property. These parables emphasize that God will hold us accountable for our management of these resources.
Nature is good because it was created by God and pleases God (Gn 1:1-31). God designed the natural world with an orderly structure, and violating that natural order is sinful (Rm 1:26-27). The natural world shares the burden of the curse of the fallen world (Gn 3:17-19), but Scripture repeatedly affirms God's providential care for the world of nature (Ps 104:1-35; 147:7-9; 148:1-10). Scripture also suggests that all of creation will share in redemption (Rm 8:20-22), promising the creation of the new heavens and the new earth (Rv 21:1).