I want to start off by defining the problem of evil for those here who might not know what it is. In short, if God is indeed omnipotent (all-powerful), omniscient (all-knowing), and righteous, then there must not be evil in the world. Since there is evil in the world, God must be either incapable of removing it (not omnipotent), unwilling to remove it (not righteous), unaware of its existence (not omniscient), or altogether nonexistent.
Now, Christians, we must believe that God exists and that He is omniscient, omnipresent, omnipotent, and righteous. Such a truth is a central point of my dogma. So how do we reconcile the very undeniable presence of evil in the face of a perfect God? How do we rationalize a merciful and loving God whose will is supreme who allows evil to remain on earth? The beginning of our answer to this supposed dilemma is simple: there is no problem with God but with the way we view the world. The issue is not God’s allowance of evil but our limited point of view in a broken and fallen world.
To reconcile this flawed point of view, I want to first address God’s nature, namely His omnipresence, since it is the one aspect of His nature that is excluded from the problem of evil argument. God being omnipresent does not just refer to his spatial transcendence but also to His temporal transcendence. God does not just know what is, what was, and what will be; He is there at all times. God is present in the past just as much as He is in the present and the future. For God, every event of your life, from beginning to end, is all happening at once, and He is in all those places at the same time.
A useful means of visualizing this is to think of an author who has finished a book. At any time, he can open the book he has written to any page and see his hero at any point in their journey. This is a valid comparison, as scripture refers to God many times as an author:
“Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them” (Psalm 139:16, ESV).
God is the author of the universe. He has written the story of existence before time began, and His plot spans the whole of history, even history which has yet to occur. We all have our roles to play with a measure of free will in much the same way that a kayaker, though he may move from bank to bank, still goes downstream. Each of our journeys, from birth till death, have been written before time began.
One may ask, then, if God has written this story, how can He be considered good if His story includes evil? To answer, we must turn our attention from the problem of evil to the purpose of evil, because God weaves nothing into his story without purpose.
One of my favorite authors who has actually spoken at length about the existence of evil is J. R. R. Tolkien. I know, he is a fantasy writer, but he is also an accomplished philosopher and theologian; and in his essay “On Fairy Stories”, Tolkien advocates for a literary mechanism which we can see when we analyze God’s story, so the inclusion of this excerpt is necessary to provide the necessary language to further the argument. Tolkien, in this excerpt, refers to a device known as eucatastrophe, a term coined by the professor for the purpose of the argument made in the following quote:
“But the “consolation” of fairy-tales has another aspect than the imaginative satisfaction of ancient desires. Far more important is the Consolation of the Happy Ending. Almost I would venture to assert that all complete fairy-stories must have it. At least I would say that Tragedy is the true form of Drama, its highest function; but the opposite is true of Fairystory. Since we do not appear to possess a word that expresses this opposite — I will call it Eucatastrophe. The eucatastrophic tale is the true form of fairy-tale, and its highest function.
“The consolation of fairy-stories, the joy of the happy ending: or more correctly of the good catastrophe, the sudden joyous “turn” (for there is no true end to any fairy-tale): this joy, which is one of the things which fairy-stories can produce supremely well, is not essentially “escapist,” nor “fugitive.” In its fairy-tale — or otherworld — setting, it is a sudden and miraculous grace: never to be counted on to recur. It does not deny the existence of dyscatastrophe, of sorrow and failure: the possibility of these is necessary to the joy of deliverance; it denies (in the face of much evidence, if you will) universal final defeat and in so far is evangelium, giving a fleeting glimpse of Joy, Joy beyond the walls of the world, poignant as grief. It is the mark of a good fairy-story, of the higher or more complete kind, that however wild its events, however fantastic or terrible the adventures, it can give to child or man that hears it, when the “turn” comes, a catch of the breath, a beat and lifting of the heart, near to (or indeed accompanied by) tears, as keen as that given by any form of literary art, having a peculiar quality”(On Fairy Stories, pg 13,14).
The purpose of evil within God’s story is to serve as the dyscatastrophe that provides the fuel for the eucatastrophe. It is the same manner in which one does not appreciate light until one has experienced a darkened room. There is hope in the midst of the brokenness, a glimpse of everlasting victory where once there might only have been seen the hopelessness of defeat. It is this hope that drives people of faith to persevere.
“as it is my eager expectation and hope that I will not be at all ashamed, but that with full courage now as always Christ will be honored in my body, whether by life or by death. For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain” (Phil. 1:20–21, ESV)
Now, I will turn away from Tolkien’s device and examine the nature of God’s story, namely it’s structure. We can see how God has structured his story by looking at the way many of the books of the Bible — especially the Old Testament — were written; because, though they were written by humans, the words and flow were inspired by God.
The structure of this written word forms what is known as a chiasm. A chiasm earns its name from the Greek letter Chi, which looks like an X. If we cut the top of the X off, we get the basic form of a chiasm, where the beginning and end of the story rise in parallel to one another to a point that has no parallel, a “turn” if you will. As Tolkien says, it is a moment in the story that cannot be counted on to recur. We see this if we look at the story of Abraham. Before the sacrifice of Isaac, Abraham was shown to doubt God many times. He had a child with Hagar, he lied about his wife for fear that the Egyptians would kill him to claim her. Yet, when we reach the sacrifice of Isaac, we see a change — a turn, if you will. We see Abraham trust God more than ever before. He takes Abraham up to the top of the mountain, tie the boy up, and place his son on the altar. We read as Abraham lifts the knife. This is a catastrophic moment for Abraham. He is about to kill his son, yet he trusts God more than he fears losing his son. Abraham prepares to bring down the knife, and then we get the eucatastrophe. “don’t kill your son, there is a ram in the bush. Your faith was tested, and you’ve passed.” After this climactic moment, we see Abraham place his faith in God more than he did at the beginning of the story. The story parallels.
If we look at the story in scripture, we can see this as well. In the beginning, God created the world, and it was good, then Mankind sinned and the world was plunged into darkness. In the end, in Revelations, we learn that the world will come to a state of pure chaos before God finally ends everything and returns it to a state of perfection. This is also a perfect parallel.
The purpose of this literary construction is to point to the center of the story, the climactic event which has no parallel. Within God’s story, what is the one moment which has no parallel, which — as Tolkien says — can be counted on never to recur? That sudden and miraculous grace that forms the turn from utter defeat to assured victory. It is the birth, life, death, and resurrection of Christ.
The strength of the Chiasm is that it provides the audience (or in this case, the participants) a view of what the storyteller wants them to know. In this case, God wants us to know how great a love He has for us. God loves all of humanity with so great a love that while we were diametrically and morally opposed to Him, he reached down, lived among us, and died for us all. At that point, the story turned. The chiastic eucatastrophe occurred, redeeming the story and providing a way out of the brokenness for everyone who would take it.
Here, new questions arise. If God wrote the story to profess His love to humanity, and this requires evil to exist, then why would He punish humans for falling to evil? And if His story must include evil, why should He allow those who follow Him to suffer?
This is God’s story, and we have no more right to question his methods than Frodo has to question why Tolkien made him the bearer of the One Ring.
“You will say to me then, “Why does he still find fault? For who can resist his will?” But who are you, O man, to answer back to God? Will what is molded say to its molder, “Why have you made me like this?” Has the potter no right over the clay, to make out of the same lump one vessel for honorable use and another for dishonorable use?” (Rom. 9:19–21, ESV).
However, despite the harsh nature of this message of “get over it”, God still gives us an answer to this question:
“And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. For those whom he foreknew, he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. And those whom he predestined he also called, and those whom he called he also justified, and those whom he justified he also glorified.” (Rom. 8:28–30, ESV)
Those who love God and are called according to His purpose are promised peace even in adversity. Remember the earlier verse “to live is Christ, but to die is gain.” And this “call” is not some special call reserved only for a few, but a call to all of humanity. We are predestined inasmuch as God understands the sure outcome of everyone’s free-will choice. Think of a choose-your-own-adventure novel. The story is written in its entirety, but the ending depends on your choice. That choice has been known by God since before time, and for Him, you’ve already made every choice available in your life, and so your path is predetermined, but the choice is still yours as you live out your life.
“First of all, then, I urge that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for all people, for kings and all who are in high positions, that we may lead a peaceful and quiet life, godly and dignified in every way. This is good, and it is pleasing in the sight of God our Savior, who desires all people to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth.” (1 Tim. 2:1–4, ESV).
So, what conclusion can we draw from all of this? What is the solution to the problem of evil?
We know that we are players within God’s story, which He has written but also pervades, providing grace for those who call upon His name. We know that, based on the literary structure of His Word, the scriptures, God has constructed his story with Christ and His love at the focal point. We also know that evil was allowed to exist for the sake of contrasting wicked hatred and depravity with the love and righteousness of God. Putting all these pieces together, what do we see?
God, in an endeavor to express to the entire universe the measure of His love, has written a story in which there is allowed to be a polar opposite, irredeemable evil. Yet, he has not left the world itself to be irredeemable. God, in His everlasting love, reached out his hand into the broken world to grant an escape. God showed His love to the world in that, while the world was His enemy, He descended and died for its sake, then rose again. This act — the birth, life, death, and resurrection of Christ — shows us the truth: that those who follow Christ, who are conformed to His image, will never be overcome by the evil and brokenness of the world. This grace, which even death cannot overcome, is extended by God to all of humanity.
So, the so-called problem of evil is, in truth, no problem at all. Evil’s only purpose in God’s story is to serve as the darkness into which the light of His love can shine. Just as Tolkien said, eucatastrophe does not deny the existence of dyscatastrophe; rather, the dyscatastrophe is required for the eucatastrophe to be appreciated. The world is not hopelessly thrown into a broken spiral for the sake of God making a point. The world, and the people in it who choose God, are preserved; and in the end, when we rejoice in everlasting life under the reign of King Jesus, we can look back at the story God has written and remember what love the Father has for us.