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If Jesus is Lord Then Why Does Evil Increase?
July 13, 2009
John H. Armstrong
No question has more often troubled Christian theology in the twentieth century that this: “How can an all-powerful God be a God of love and justice?” In a world where evil often prevails how can we still believe in a sovereign, loving God?
This question leads us to consider the subject of divine providence and human freedom. How can the continuing and (often unseen) activity of a sovereign God, sustaining his universe and providing for the needs of every creature, be squared with the presence of such incredible evil?
The Burning Question of Our Time
My friend Dr. I. John Hesselink delivered a lecture in 1986 in which he said that this is “the burning question of our time.” This lecture was later published in the Reformed Review, Vol. 41, No. 2, Winter, 1988, and subsequently given to me by Dr. Hesseslink himself. Reading my friend’s reflections on this question prompted me to once again wrestle with this problem. This series is a combination of Dr. Hesselink’s thoughts with some of my own.
In every age there seems to be a historical moment that puts this question before us afresh. That huge moment in the twentieth century was undoubtedly the holocaust. People rightly asked: “Where was God during the holocaust?” Six million Jews were killed by citizens of a religious Western nation. The majority of the killers were nominal Christians. Pointing out that the German killers were only “nominal” Christians does nothing to seriously address the pain of the Jewish question.
The Question of Theodicy
The ancient question, the one that lies behind this “burning question,” takes us to what we call theodicy. The term “theodicy” refers to “the justification of God.” Theodicy is the attempt to reconcile God’s positive attributes with the problem of evil. If God is holy, just and good then how can we explain his way of governing the world, a world in which there is quite obviously great evil?
The question of theodicy is found in Job in the Old Testament. The Psalmist expressed this question a number of times in the Psalter. Consider the following:
Why Lord, do you stand far off? Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble (Psalm 10:1)?
How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and day after day have sorrow in my heart? How long will my enemy triumph over me (Psalm 13:1–2)?
Awake, Lord! Why do you sleep? Rouse yourself! Do not reject us forever. Why do you hide your face and forget our misery and oppression? We are brought down to the dust and our bodies cling to the ground. Rise up and help us; redeem us because of your unfailing love (Psalm 44:23–26).
How long, Lord? Will you hide yourself forever? How long will your wrath burn like fire? Remember how fleeting is my life. For what futility you have created all humanity (Psalm 89:46–47).
Wherever people undergo pain and suffering, especially if they believe in “God the Father almighty” as a part of their confession of faith, then they seek to reconcile their suffering with this affirmation of faith. This problem is not limited to Calvinists, as some have suggested. It is a problem for all who affirm classical Christianity.
The writer of Deuteronomy says: “The Lord is God in heaven above and on earth below” (4:39). If this is true, and faithful Christians have always affirmed it, then how do you understand suffering?
A Modern Crisis
I. John Hesselink says that this doctrine reached a point of “crisis” in the modern age. I think he was right when he said this in 1986. The past two-plus decades have only made his point more important for thoughtful Christians. Hesselink suggested four reasons for this modern crisis.
- Christians have generally not considered the matter of secondary causes important when they have taught providence. This was true of ancient philosophers and still remains true in the way we think about the word cause today. Cause refers to anything that produces an effect or a result. Natural disasters, for example, have been considered “acts of God” for sometime. (Insurance policies still use this language.)
But a thoughtful distinction between primary and secondary cause can be discovered in the history of Christian theology. The German-Swiss Reformed theologian Johannes Wollebius (1586–1629), provides one such example. His Compendium of Christian Theology (1626) had a great influence upon the Westminster Catechisms. He argued that “the providence of God does not destroy secondary causes but upholds them” (in Reformed Dogmatics, ed. J. W. Beardslee III, New York: Oxford University Press, 1965, 59). St. Thomas Aquinas, and the Protestant Reformers, plainly argued for a relative degree of autonomy for human beings. This is too easily lost by modern zealots for Reformed ideas of the decrees.
More than a few modern evangelical Calvinists have responded to the openness debate by asserting a type of “high” Calvinism that fails to recognize this distinction in cause. In the process I believe this thinking has poured gasoline on a raging evangelical fire and makes God into the God of eternal decrees rather than a God of love who is deeply and personally involved with all of his creation.
- Since the Enlightenment we have had a hard time speaking about miracles and the supernatural. This can be seen in the Cartesian split that we’ve accepted between the world of observable reality (seen) and the world of unseen reality (if we even believe that there is such a world). Bonhoeffer spoke of this as the “displacement of God from the world and from the public part of life.” This has had an immense impact upon how Christians view public and private life, as well as natural and supernatural reality.
- Because of No. 1 and No. 2 above, some conservative Christians are now beginning to question God’s providence openly. I have already referred to the “openness of God” debate. But this is only the tip of a huge iceberg. Even if ministers and Christians believe in providence these days, they rarely talk about it with any degree of confidence, even in many Reformed circles. While millions still confess that they believe in an almighty God, they live as if this were simply not true.
- Each age has its moments when a catastrophe evokes much deeper reflection on divine providence. The death of 60,000 in the Lisbon earthquake in 1755 brought about such a time. In the last century, as I noted, it was the holocaust. More recently it was 9/11 and the tsunami of 2005. Such reflections bring out various responses, responses that generally bring about a greater resistance to the doctrine of providence. Our age is no different.
All of these developments have brought about what Hesselink calls “a new critical consciousness which will not tolerate easy, simplistic answers—not in many cases, the traditional Reformed one either” (Reformed Review, Vol. 41, No. 2, 1988, 100). Hesselink is a confessional Reformed theologian which makes his treatment of divine providence all the more important for Reformed evangelicals.
If Jesus Is Lord
John Cobb, the famous process theologian and philosopher, has openly suggested what many actually believe. He says the doctrine of God’s providence does not square with the way we actually experience evil in the world. Cobb says that even if the intellectual problems could be solved by theologians and philosophers (he seriously doubts they can be) there is still a serious existential problem. We must find a way to actually live with evil in our day-to-day lives.
This existential problem is what prompted the popularity of the best-selling book by Rabbi Harold Kushner, When Bad Things Happen to Good People. Kushner’s son died two days before his fourteenth birthday, after nearly eleven years of agonizing, painful suffering. Kushner eventually gave up the doctrine of the sovereignty of God in order to embrace what has been called compassionate suffering. In Kushner’s understanding God stands helplessly before such evil and thus becomes our fellow-sufferer because he loves us. In this way of thinking God is limited in much the same way as we are limited. For Kushner this comes down to an either/or issue, either God is good, and thus he cannot be in control, or he is in control, and thus he cannot be good. Kushner chooses to believe in a God who is love and good, and thus he rejects sovereignty and control.
Donald W. McCullough has stated this question in simple, popular language. “If Jesus is in charge, why haven’t the nearly two thousand years under his administration experienced a little more heaven than hell on earth” (cited by Hesselink, Reformed Review, 100). If God is almighty, and Jesus is Lord, why do suffering and disaster seem to increase rather than decrease? How can we say that Jesus is Lord on “earth below” (Deuteronomy 4:39) and still believe that he is truly good?
The Nature of God’s Power
Kushner embraces a great truth when he affirms that the God of power is very good. But the God of good that he believes in cannot implement the good since he is impotent. The universe is random and creatures are totally free. God cannot interfere so his best intentions cannot be carried out in the end.
The real question Kushner poses, and all the questions posed by similar responses to theodicy, is about the nature of God’s power.
I believe the tendency of some who react against Kushner, and similar writers, is that to refuse to face the real problem. God does appear to be helpless or indifferent at times. The superficiality of many Christians, especially evangelical “high” Calvinists, who speak about the sovereignty of God is often harmful. I have heard stories preached that defend this approach because someone in the congregation found comfort in the God of primary cause. I have never found this response completely satisfactory, not for a moment. I am sure I am not alone in this response. Here is how Hesselink puts this:
In traditional Calvinistic circles, for example, the counsel (comfort?) that is often given in the face of tragedy is that it is God’s will. The only possible response is submission to that will. In such circles it is considered irreverent to ask questions or challenge God despite the biblical precedents of Job and the psalmists (Reformed Review, 102).
But is the only alternative to this kind of Calvinism the response of Rabbi Kushner, or maybe the openness of God theology advanced on the evangelical side?
One of my favorite hymns expresses a better perspective well: “This is my Father’s world . . . though the wrong seems oft so strong, God is the ruler yet.” And the Heidelberg Catechism, excepting one word (“sends”) provides a proper confidence in the face of suffering: “whatever the evil he sends upon me in this troubled life he will turn to my good, for he is able to do it, being almighty God, and is determined to do it, being a faithful Father” (Question 26).
The well-known verse, Romans 8:28, has brought much comfort to God’s people over the years: “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” An alternative rendering of this text says,
“And we know that in all things God works together with those who love him to bring about the good.” This underscores why I do not think the word “sends” is a correct idea. It sounds like primary cause again. But the Catechism speaks of God as “able” and “determined” to turn all things to our good. This is what is behind the alternative rendering of Romans 8:28 when it says “God works together with those who love him to bring about the good.” Human choice is not denied here. God’s sovereignty is not denied either. Both are involved. The question we face is not regarding which truth is really true. The real question is how can both be true?
Is it not possible that man enjoys a great deal of freedom in the universe while God remains in control in ways that we cannot fully explain or grasp? I think the answer is self-evident and the mystery here lies in a different direction than where we have generally looked. I shall undertake to explain this next week.
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