THE PROBLEM OF EVIL: A THEODICY FOR THE COVENANT UNIVERSALIST

THEODICY & THE PROBLEM OF EVIL

            Theodicy is a fifty-cent word for the justification of God. One might ask why it should be necessary for anyone to justify God. Really what is meant is the justification of God’s moral character against the accusations of unbelievers with respect to the problem of evil. It is an apologetic exercise. In his book, The Doctrine of God, Reformed Presbyterian John Frame calls the problem of evil “the most difficult problem in all of theology.” He sees it as “the most serious and cogent objection that unbelievers have brought against Christian theism  No one could explain this difficulty with better clarity than he can.

In a nutshell, the problem is this: How can there be any evil in the world, if the omnipotent and omnibenevolent God of the Bible exists? Or to put it more formally:

 

1. If God is omnipotent, he is able to prevent evil.

2. If God is good, he is willing to prevent evil.

3. But evil exists.

Conclusion: either God is not omnipotent, or he is not good. 

            Frame calls this “the logical problem of evil” because he recognizes that if valid, it proves the Christian worldview logically inconsistent. In what follows I make the case that the problem of evil is only a problem for evangelicals when they incorporate either the doctrine of endless torment or annihilationism into their system. We shall examine the various attempts at theodicy that have been employed by advocates of these two Limitarian doctrines, and in so doing, I hope to make it clear that no theodicy is possible that includes either of them.  Once the dead wood of Partialist theology is cleared away, a resolution to the problem of evil that agrees with the biblical doctrine of Evangelical Universalism can be supplied.

Approaches to the Problem of Evil 

       In his Apologetics to the Glory of God, Frame lists a number of defenses against the problem of evil, which he considers “blind alleys,” before presenting his “biblical” resolution. These are 1) Augustine’s “privation” defense, 2) his “free will” defense, 3) the “indirect cause” defense, 4) Leibniz “best possible world” defense, 5) Gordon Clark’s “ex-lex” defense, 6) Irenaeus’ “soul-making” defense, 7) the “divine weakness” defense, 8) C.S. Lewis’ “stable environment” defense, and a final “defense” called the “ad Hominem” defense, which, as Frame puts it,  operates on the premises that “the best defense is a strong offense.”                                                                                                        

       I have seen the ad hominem defense employed in a live debate setting by the gifted rhetorician and Christian philosopher, Greg Bahnsen. In his various debates with skeptics, he would employ a transcendental argument to lay bare the bankruptcy of his opponents’ worldviews to devastating effect. This critical approach involves demonstrating the truth claims of Christianity through the impossibility of the contrary. The ad hominem approach simply asserts that on an anti-theistic world view, there’s no basis whatsoever for good and evil, so the critic of the Christian worldview doesn’t even have the right to raise the question.                                                                              

     Frame is right when he observes that, as useful and powerful as this defense is, it really does not supply an answer to the problem of evil. It is, however, the best that can be expected from a Calvinist like Bahnsen, or an Arminian for that matter, since, as I intend to prove, neither system is capable of supplying a cogent theodicy.                                                                        

     Frame rejects some of the above referenced defenses outright, such as the “free will defense,” “the divine weakness defense,” “the privation defense,” and “the stable environment defense,” and finds the remainder unconvincing. My own Calvinist leanings lead me to agree with Frame regarding “the divine weakness defense,” but I am not quite so critical as he regarding all the remaining options. Most of them have at least a grain of truth to them, although, as we shall see, none of them can stand alone as a pure theodicy. Nor do I find Frame’s own “greater good” resolution particularly convincing. In the pages that follow I will examine all these defenses from the perspectives of both Calvinism and Arminianism. In so doing, I hope to demonstrate the utter bankruptcy of both systems before presenting the biblical resolution.

The Two Primary Theodicies 

      In our investigation of these various defenses, it will soon become apparent that they all boil down to one of two basic approaches to the problem of evil. These are the Augustinian theodicy and the Irenaean theodicy. Of the two, it is the Augustinian theodicy which has enjoyed substantial hegemony throughout the history of the Church. The minority report belongs to the theodicy of the early Church Father, Irenaeus. The other defenses mentioned above, all relate, in one way or another, to one of these two main types.                                                            

     As we investigate the Augustinian and Irenaean theodicies we shall discover that the two are not mutually exclusive. An “either, or” stance is not required. Both may be affirmed simultaneously, once it is recognized that they merely address different concerns surrounding the same problem.                                                                         

     Both church fathers looked at the problem of evil from a distinct perspective. Augustine, with his doctrine of the asthenic perfection of the creation, looked back to God’s flawless creative design and affirmed God’s perfect goodness, while Irenaeus looked ahead to the results of that design as it unfolds in history and brings many sons to glory. Since the Augustinian type theodicy is the more prevalent one, we shall examine it first.

 The Augustinian Theodicy

Evil as Privation

  Augustine began his theodicy with the question, what is evil? Borrowing from Neoplatonism, Augustine taught that evil is not a real substance. It is a privatio boni, or privation of good. This idea of evil as privation was found first in Clement of Alexandria and his more famous successor, Origen. It can also be found in Athanasius, Basil the Great and Gregory of Nyssa.

     But what do we mean by this term privation? Since God is perfectly good, He cannot create evil. At least not directly. Therefore, everything that exits must be good. All being is good. Therefore, evil cannot exist. It has no substance. It is non-being. That is what Augustine means by privation.                                               

     Evil is not simple inferiority as in the inferiority of a dog or cat to a man or an angel. Evil manifests itself when any created creature, [or thing] no matter how high or low on the scale of being, “renounces its proper role in the divine scheme and ceases to be what it is meant to be.” When that created being or object deviates from its role it is less good, and therefore less real. It lapses toward non-being.                          

  This aspect of Augustine quite obviously relied heavily on a Christianized version of Greek philosophical categories developed from Plotinus. For that reason, the idea of privation is entirely absent from the writings of the Reformers. Although it is common knowledge that they were heavily influenced by Augustine, their emphasis on sola scriptura, led them to focus almost entirely on the more biblical and less philosophical aspects of his thought.                                                  

     As a Reformed theologian, it should not come as a surprise that John Frame is very critical of this line of reasoning. Frame calls it inadequate and unbiblical, and he even accuses Augustine of “playing games with words.” But Augustine was not playing games. These words are very significant. For it is one thing for God to create something that is less than perfect and quite another to actively create evil things.                                                                                

     Hick also finds the idea of privation to be unhelpful. Yet Leibniz, who at first was as critical as any regarding the validity of privation theory, later came to find it was actually “more solid than it first seems.” Leibniz seemed to understand that the alternative to privation theory is to ascribe actual being to evil, as though it possesses material substance. But this is the ancient error of the Zoroastrians and the Manichaeans, both of whom claimed that evil has a positive reality of its own. Evil is not a substance. It is not a ding an sich. It is an idea. It is the concept of imperfection in any person or thing. In other words, it is a privation. This concept of privation is not useless or unhelpful, for it shows us the way in which God permits imperfection to occur. Not by direct action but negatively through permission. Thus, in this privation defense we find the foundation for the indirect cause defense.

The Irenaean Theodicy

     The minority position of Irenaeus sets the Augustinian theodicy on its head. According to the aesthetic perfectionism of the Augustinian theory, the creation was complete and perfect. Nothing more was needed. For Irenaeus the creation was very good for the purposed for which it was created, but not flawless in and of itself. Augustine looked back at a lost perfection, while Irenaeus looked forward to the fulness of creative perfection as a future eventuality that was inherent in the design from the beginning.

     The name most commonly associated with the Irenaean Theodicy among contemporary thinkers is John Hick. In his Evil and the God of Love he makes a strong case for the “soul-building defense” of Irenaeus. He summarizes the theory as “a two-stage creation of man, with freedom as a vital factor in the second stage.” The starting point for Irenaeus was Gen.1:26.

Then God said, “Let Us make man in Our image according to Our likeness.”

     Irenaeus draws a distinction between the words image and likeness here. His argument is that man was created in God’s image but becoming “like” him requires maturity and spiritual development. This theodicy of human development or “becoming” often amounts to a suppression of divine participation in the salvation process, in favor of libertarian free will and responsibility. This of course, is attractive to semi-Pelagians.

           

A Universalist Theodicy

In our investigation of the Augustinian and Irenaean theodicies, we have seen that nothing that has been offered by Limitarian theologians renders the slightest justification for the situation of the world that comports with the character of God as revealed in Scripture. Therefore, we must insist that only on Universalist grounds can there be a way to absolve God of all culpability for man’s dire predicament. Only Universalism allows for a cogent theodicy. For only Universalism predicates the abolition of evil. John Frame is on the right track when he surmises that the resolution to the problem of evil must be some form of “greater good” theodicy. Only if evil results in the betterment of all can God be vindicated.  

However, several other defenses, which Frame finds untenable, are also viable contributions to the resolution of this problem of evil. Among these are “the character-building defense” or Irenaean Theodicy and Leibniz “best of both worlds” theodicy. 

 Augustinian Aspects

While it cannot be granted that Adam was perfect in spiritual maturity and sanctification, prior to the Fall, he was perfect as far as his standing before God on the earth. The environment in which God placed Adam was a paradise. Furthermore, had Adam resisted the temptation and passed the test, he and his posterity would have continued to enjoy that idyllic existence in that same eutopia without any natural evil to plague them. God made man upright, as the teacher said.                                                                                                        

However, Calvinists will acknowledge that this state of affairs was not what God intended for man from the beginning. The Fall and the resultant moral and natural evils stemming from that event were intended from the start. All will affirm that the final state of man as ascended celestial beings is an advance from the original state in which Adam was formed. To the extent that we can affirm the perfection of the original creation we can participate in that longing backward look of the Augustinians. We too can be nostalgic of a better time and of a paradise lost and gone forever.

Irenaean Aspects

But we must not allow nostalgic ruminations to blind us to the clear biblical truth that the Fall was not an accident. God had a better plan for man from the beginning. It was a forward-looking plan that involves the progress of humanity’s spiritual development along Irenaean lines. A plan that was destined to culminate in the greater good of a higher form of existence beyond anything that mortal man could possibly conceptualize.

Only if the fall of Adam ultimately results in Man’s advancement, and that of his progeny, can God be justified. Only when we view the Fall as a necessary component in our development as children of God can we see the wisdom in our Heavenly Father’s decision to allow the Fall in the first place. 

As we noted earlier in our initial discussion of the Irenaean theodicy the idea of spiritual advancement, based on Gen. 1:26, is fundamental to this Irenaean defense. Although Frame deems this defense unbiblical, the language of development and the need to grow and mature is prevalent in the Scriptures. In Ephesians 4:14-16 Paul admonishes believers to “grow up,” saying:

 

That we henceforth be no more children, tossed to and fro, and carried about with every wind of doctrine, by the sleight of men, and cunning craftiness, whereby they lie in wait to deceive; But speaking the truth in love, may grow up into him in all things, which is the head, even Christ: From whom the whole body fitly joined together and compacted by that which every joint supplieth, according to the effectual working in the measure of every part, maketh increase of the body unto the edifying of itself in love.

 

And in Romans 5:3-5 Paul tells us explicitly that suffering instills patience which leads to experience and finally hope.

We glory in tribulations also: knowing that tribulation worketh patience; And patience, experience; and experience, hope: And hope maketh not ashamed

How then, is the concept of suffering as a means of growth unbiblical? Frame questions the idea that Adam was “created in a state of moral immaturity.” “He was created good,” says Frame, “and had he obeyed God, he would not have needed to experience suffering. Suffering is the result of the Fall.” Here Frame echoes’ Augustine, and he is correct when he says Adam was good, and suffering was the result of the Fall. But that is beside the point. Goodness and immaturity are not mutually exclusive.  Frame was probably thinking of those passages which speak of the perfection of God’s creative work when he says Adam was created good.  One passage which seems to explicitly state the original moral perfection of man is Ecclesiastes 7:29 which says the following,

Lo, this only have I found, that God hath made man upright; but they have sought out many inventions.                                                                

But whatever the word “upright” means, even Frame must admit that Adam was peccable, that is, capable of sin. Otherwise he could never have fallen. So “upright” and good must not mean spiritually perfect. And if there was room for improvement doesn’t that mean Irenaeus was right?                                                                                                  

Reformed theologians have pointed out that Adam, or at least Eve, in her pristine state was already an autonomous thinker, even before she partook of the forbidden fruit. She was “good” in the sense that she had not yet broken any law of God that was explicitly given to her. But would Frame suggest that setting herself up as judge between the serpent and God as the one who should determine which of them was speaking the truth was not wrong? To think autonomously is clearly idolatrous. Yet that is exactly what that “very good” woman named Eve did. She was “very good,” she was “upright,” but she was an autonomous thinker. To employ Van Til’s vernacular, she was “creatively constructive” in her opinions rather than being “recreatively reconstructive.” She refused to think God’s thought after Him, and instead set herself up as the arbiter of truth. To say our first parents were spiritually immature is an understatement.                                        

Frame also denies that evil always builds character. “Unbelievers suffer and often learn no lessons from it,” says Frame. But the theodicy is of course directed toward believers not unbelievers. One of the things that suffering does for an unbeliever is drive him to Christ. Such was the case with the prodigal son.

Another argument against this justification for the evils of the world is that there are many other means that God uses in our spiritual development that do not involve suffering. But to say that there are other things besides evil that lend to one’s spiritual growth and development does not therefore negate the efficacy of suffering.                     

The objection is sometimes raised that God could have created man fully matured and in his “likeness” at the outset. But how do we know that this is so? And more importantly how do we know that another way would have been better than the one the Almighty has chosen?

The Best of All Worlds

It is true that the reasons why this approach was necessary are unclear, but with Leibniz, we must assume that this is indeed the best of all possible worlds for if there had been a better one surely God would have chosen to create it.                                                                  

The situation then is this. God chose to create man, upright but imperfect, in that he lacked spiritual maturity. That imperfection made him peccable and ultimately lead to his fall in accordance with the will of God, who works all things according to His omniscient will. So, Augustine was correct when he seizes upon those texts that teach that the fall resulted, not only in man’s condemnation for sin, and his subsequent death sentence, but also the corruption of the natural order of the world as well (Rom. 8:20-21). Lewis’ stable-environment thesis applies only to this fallen world for in Eden there was a perfect environment with no natural evil, no sorrow and no suffering. Gravity was Adam’s friend, and entropy was not yet present.                

Yet Irenaeus saw something deep under and behind the situation leading up to and including the Fall and its results. It is true that the Fall ruined things for Adam. God made the world “very good.” But Irenaeus looked to verses such as those immediately preceding Paul’s declaration that the fall corrupted nature (Rom. 8:18-19). There we find Paul saying:

The sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us. For the earnest expectation of the creation eagerly waits for the revealing of the sons of God.

 This suffering then, is to result in a “greater good.” One that is incomparably better in fact. God made man capable of falling, and then using the instrumentality of a wicked serpent, he orchestrated the Fall, while He Himself remained free of every taint of evil, for the serpent meant the temptation for evil, but God meant it for good; a good so great that the suffering resulting from that fall pales in comparison.          

In the process of redemption, man matures and grows spiritually, finally conforming into that perfect likeness of God Himself which Irenaeus envisioned. Critics will say that God should have found a more painless way to bring about our celestial glorification and rebirth as sons of God. But as Frame points out, God is the standard for His own actions. No one may tell Him what to do. When the righteous Job accused Him of unfairness, He was rebuked. As Frame puts it, “Scripture never assumes that God owes us an explanation for what He does. In a number of biblical passages, the problem of evil arises for the reader, but the text itself never comment on it.” Frame likes to point this out because it seems to fit well with his “paradox defense,” but as he, himself admits:

This is not to say with Gordon Clark, that God is ex lex, although it sounds similar and may indeed meets some of Clark’s concerns. God honors essentially the same law that He gives us, for the fundamental law for man is, given the differences between Creator and creature, the law of God’s own nature. God’s righteousness is the standard for our righteousness

The point then, is that we need to observe the balance between not ascribing things to God that are contrary to His revealed character, as the Calvinists do, and at the same time, not trying to second guess God, like Job did, as though we know more than Him. When we, like Job, accuse God of unfairness, we rightly invoke His ire and justified rebuke. But we must never ascribe to God that which His own word testifies would be unworthy of Him. The infallible Bible then, and not the shifting opinions of men, is the standard upon which we may, and must, judge which is which.