Evil and the God of Love Paperback – May 11, 2010

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Stand out telling of the history of humanity's dealings with the problem of evil, emphasizing the evolution of Christian thought on the issue. Perfect introduction to Bertrand Russell's "Why I am not a Christian."

The reissue in 2010 of a work from 1966 could be just an attempt to keep an old work in print, but this book will be required reading for anyone working
on the problem of evil as long as there are sentient beings on Earth. Hick is lucid, skeptical and creative. He covers all the theological bases and even proposes his own synthetic scheme. However, the greatest value of this book is that it defines the field of discourse for the 21st century.

The best reason to read "Evil and the God of Love," the classic treatment of the problem of evil by John Hick, is that he does a good to excellent job of summarizing various theodicies, including those of Augustine and of Irenaeus, as well as the classic freewill defense. Its information on the history of the problem makes it a worthwhile read. (This is why I have given it four stars.)

Less compelling is Hick's attempt to present a viable theodicy. Crucial to his view is his belief that God created human beings at an "epistemic distance" in which His presence is not overwhelming evident but neither is it entirely absent. If there were no evil in this world, it would be a paradisal realm, and God's presence would be so evident that human beings would be compelled to fall down in worship. But that's not what God wants, according to Hick. Instead, God has intentionally created a world that is a mixture of good and evil so that human beings will freely develop faith, trust, and love in Him. (Hick labels these the "fiduciary attitudes.") If this world were perfect, human beings in effect would be forced to worship God and we could not really speak of them having faith in and trust in God.

Moreover, God has created this world as a place of "soul making." Part of the soul-making enterprise is the creation of positive virtues such as courage, fortitude, compassion, and sympathy. It is hard to see how these could develop except against a backdrop of hardship (in the case of fortitude), danger (courage), and suffering (compassion, sympathy). If we are to truly develop our moral character in this life, this world cannot be a paradise but must contain suffering and well as good.

An initial problem with this attempt to explain the existence of evil is the disteleological effect of evil, something that Hick tends to downplay. For many, the tragedies of this life are precisely what keep them from trust in a good and loving God. Moreover, the evil in this world is as likely to create cowardice, a defeated spirit, and hardheartedness as the opposites.

More importantly is the criticism I initially brought up in a paper I read at a convention of the American Philosophical Association in 1976, entitled "The Theodicist's New Clothes." (I later made this criticism in "Heaven and Theodicy," published in "Philosophical Studies" c. 1980, and "A New Perspective on the Problem of Evil," published in "Antithesis" in 1991.) This criticism is one I call the "eschatological objection." Hick treats the fiduciary attitudes and the soul-making characteristics as "greater goods" that justify God creating a world with a significant amount of evil in it. Now, for a greater-good defense to work (and this is what Hick's theodicy amounts to), the greater good must have two characteristics. First, it must be of sufficient value as to outweigh the evil necessary to its attainment. Second, it must not be possible to create a world in which such greater goods exist but in which there is no evil (or a minimal amount of evil).

Now, according to Hick, this world is prelude to an eschatological realm in which evil will no longer exist. But this leaves us wondering what is the purpose of attaining these fiduciary and soul-making characteristics. For if they can be exercised only against the backdrop of evil, then there will be no need for them in that eschatological realm. If, on the other hand, it will be possible to exercise faith and trust, courage, fortitude, compassion, and sympathy in a realm without evil, then it would seem that evil is not necessary for the attaining of these fiduciary and soul-making characteristics. If this is so, then God could have created a world in which these traits could become part of our makeup but have done it without the evil we see in our present world. And the question remains, "Why wouldn't a loving God have done this?"

Hick begins by pointing out that the 'problem' of evil only arises out of a belief in a good God. One answer is dualism, another is monism, in which a good God allows evil to be because of a greater purpose.

Hick traces the history of thought about theodicy, first by looking at the Western teaching largely started by Augustine. It sometimes seems as if a lot of our present problems with Christianity are Augustine's fault - his views on sexuality in particular. Augustine's universe is one that is good. Evil is the absence of good and has to be there if man is to have the capacity of moral choice. In the grand scheme of things, evil is good in that it enables greater good, that which is freely chosen - hence the 'felix culpa' of Adam. The surgeon has to cut into that good may come out of it. Obliteration bombing was necessary in Dresden in order to get at military establishments flesh - the end justifies the means. Put like that, the view becomes, to me, repugnant. The universe appears to be run by a calculating deity who gets his sums right but causes a lot of pain on the way. It might work out OK for God but we don't see the whole picture (yet?) and the sum is far from being balanced for us, from our perspective.

I can see that no better universe might be possible. If there were no pain or evil, we would be like puppets and could not choose. There would be no heroism, no medical advance because it was not needed. But it doesn't work for the individual who feels pain - you can't tell him that he is suffering so that my best qualities can be brought out by my caring for him. Nor can I necessarily see the sufferer's best qualities being brought out - there is as much degeneration through suffering in some as there is heroism and spiritual development in others.

More appealing is Barth's idea of God's right and left hands. As this is developed in Jim Harrison's 'The Darkness of God: Theology after Hiroshima', in the concept of a universe which is so ordered that man can co-operate with the teleological purpose of existence and so prosper or, alternatively, can 'go against the grain' and suffer the consequences, it is nearer to our current experience and, therefore, more acceptable. The trouble with this is that good and bad people suffer the same fate. Mankind in general goes against the grain but we differ in the degree to which we do this, yet in a nuclear holocaust we all suffer.

Hick goes on to show us a different way of looking at things which the Western Church has neglected. It is the way of Irenaeus who is also neglected but is making a comeback in Christology. For Irenaeus, man is created in God's image but not yet in his likeness. We are potential beings and this earth is the sphere in which we make choices and develop our potential. Evil is there in order that we can choose or reject it. The world is, thus, a vale of soul-making. This idea gets taken up again in the Nineteenth Century by Schleir¬macher, which is not surprising given the optimism of the period. It fits in very neatly with evolutionary thought. Nevertheless, however our illusions about progress have been shattered by the bitter experience of two world wars, this view has more going for it than the Augustinian view. Talk of the whole creation groaning in travail, the rebirth of eschatology and apocalyptic interest, talk of 'becoming what I am' and image-Christology which sees Jesus as the one who fulfilled human potential, makes this way of looking ay evil the most fitting for us today.

It follow from this view that we need to retain a belief in an after-life because, without most humans never reach their potential. It also follows that in this after-life, God must draw ALL people to himself and not assign some to an eternal hell. Purgatory may be OK as a means to save, but hell is terminal and has no point. We have our free will but God is the chess master whose moves will ultimately result in his victory over our amateurish, freely chosen moves.

This book is a good summary of theodicy. Its conclusions largely agree with a popular book 'Why do bad things happen to good people?' by a rabbi, which suggested that the world is still evolving and pain and evil is part of evolution. Teleologically, it will have played its part but will eventually cease.

One object lesson which taught me something of what this meant was a visit to Clifton Zoo. I remember waking up feeling extremely depressed for no particular reason and then going round the zoo and reflecting upon the experience of the 'lower animals'. They were caged in but probably didn't know that there was anything outside the cage. They may feel pain, but having no consciousness, they do not feel suffering as a result of the pain. It is the price we pay for being humans who can feel love, joy, happiness &c. that we can also feel their opposites.

This still leaves us, however, with the problem of why some people are always feeling pain and suffering and why others hardly ever feel these. That brings us back to the thought of God as some cosmic mathematician calculating goodness and evil so that the scales eventually tip in the direction of ultimate good.