[+/-] The Bible on Pain

This is the third installment in my series on the problem of pain. (It starts here and continues here.) In this post I will examine the Biblical story of the fall of man, which purports to explain how suffering became a part of the world God once called good.

The Bible tells us that God intended the world to be a sort of paradise. The description of this paradise is very helpful to a discussion of suffering and evil, because it serves as a vision of a perfect world - a world created by a loving and powerful God. If we accept this description as a part of the Biblical explanation for the existence of suffering, we need not further ponder or debate what a perfect world would look like, we need only determine whether the explanation of how this original paradise decayed into our present world is reasonable.

The Bible does not describe Eden in detail, but it does imply something about it that I find very interesting. As God goes through his creating process he repeatedly stops to remark that it's all very good. The last time he says this is after he has created everything, including plants, animals, and humans. But just before giving this final expression of approval, he tells man that all the plants on earth are his to eat. But they're not just his - they're for all the animals too. Presumably, God thought it would be best if animals weren't killed for food. I recently watched Jurassic Park, and I'm inclined to agree with him. Animals hunting and killing each other is a ghastly affair. The writer of Genesis, along with other Biblical authors, was clearly of the opinion that creating animals which eat each other alive would be inconsistent with the character of a loving God.

For the modern reader, who has at least heard of old earth, theistic evolution, etc., the obvious question is whether all animals really were herbivores before the fall. If animals hunted and killed other animals before humankind came into existence and sinned, I can't see how Adam's fall or subsequent human nature can possibly be blamed for all that suffering. (Of course there are other possible explanations, which I will discuss in subsequent posts.) But if you believe in a literal six-day creation, the Garden of Eden, universal vegetarianism and so forth, it still strikes me as exceedingly odd that God would create animals which are specifically and meticulously designed to be killing machines, since his intent was for them to remain herbivores forever. Isn't the incredibly adapted anatomy of living things the whole platform of creationism? If cheetahs and crocodiles and velociraptors sat around in the Garden and ate grass with cows and sheep, what does that say about their design?

I think the most obvious counterargument for young earthers is that predators were changed after the fall, in the same way that snakes and thorns and the pain of childbirth were changed. This is certainly possible. If there was no death before the fall (which presumably happened soon after the 7th day) there would be no fossil evidence of the pre-carnivorous versions of modern predators. But then the question arises of why man's downfall would have such a radical impact on the rest of nature - not only the physical alteration of innumerable species, but also (it would seem) the beginning of disease, natural disasters, and even death itself, throughout the whole world. Are all these great evils natural, cause-and-effect consequences of human sin? What happened when Adam and Eve bit into that fruit?

The forbidden fruit seemed to have an immediate effect on Adam and Eve - they realized they were naked, and felt ashamed. But what else happened at that moment? Apparently nothing worth recording. The kids weren't really in trouble until Dad got home. And what does God say when he finds his children have disobeyed him? Does he explain to them the natural consequences of their actions? Does he tell them how their disobedience has set in motion events that will destroy them and their world? Or does he curse them?

I don't know Hebrew, so I can't say this with any great authority, but I find the wording of the curses in Gen 3 very interesting. They read not as God listing the natural effects of sin, but as God listing his punishment for sin. God says "I will put", and "I will greatly increase", as if he were a judge handing down a sentence. He also banishes Adam and Eve from the garden. So it seems to me if we're going to take a Biblical view of the beginning of suffering, we ought not to say that suffering is a result of sin, but that suffering is God's punishment for sin. At least, some suffering is. I don't think instances of pain resulting from cruel or selfish human acts can be traced back to these divine curses (unless our sinful nature itself is a curse from God), but at the very least, toil and the pain of childbirth can be.

Which raises an interesting question about the exact relationship between the fall and suffering. Just how did the first sin make such a mess of the world that it even brought into existence diseases, natural disasters, and carnivores? I can't say this for certain, but such things (if indeed they can be associated with the fall) would seem to arise not as natural results of sin, but as the punishment of God on all of creation for human sins. God cursed the ground to make farming toilsome; it seems that he also cursed the water and the air to create tornados and tsunamis. God created thorns as punishment; it seems that he also created deadly viruses. God put enmity between humans and snakes; it seems that he also put enmity between wolves and lambs. Or am I wrong?

This is not to say that God is to blame for the fallen nature of the world, only that he seems to have caused it to fall as punishment for man's sin. I don't understand why he would do that, but it does seem consistent with other things God has done, such as commanding the Israelites to slaughter enemy tribes' livestock, in addition to all human members. Another example of this sort of blanket punishment would be sending a flood to destroy all life on earth. If God really wanted to wipe out every man, woman and child in the world (save for one family) because of their great sin, there are numerous ways this could have been done - plague, war, fire from heaven, or simply striking them all dead. But he chose to flood the earth, drowning not only every human, but every animal as well (again, except for 2-6 of every kind). Why?

There seems to be something inconsistent, to me, about the Biblical God's attitude towards animals. On one hand, scripture takes the position that a perfect world would not include violent death for any creatures. On the other hand, animals are routinely caught in the crossfire of God's punishment of humanity. I can't understand this.

I'm afraid I've stumbled back upon an old problem of mine: the Biblical portrayal of God's judgment, which is radically out of sync with my own intuitive understanding of justice. In the Bible nations are judged and destroyed as a whole, children are punished for their ancestor's sins, and (based on the above) animals are cursed for the disobedience of humans. Of course, in everyday life the consequences of misdeeds are commonly suffered by those who did not perpetrate them - children, families, nations, and animals. This is both a natural part of our world and a significant aspect of the problem of pain. Although we see it every day, we sense that something is wrong - very wrong - about innocents suffering as a result of other's sins. The Bible (at the least, this portion of the Bible) does not explain how God could allow undeserved suffering. On the contrary, it makes God a perpetrator of such suffering.

I want to be clear: I'm not trying to find fault with the Biblical God or tell him that he should to have acted differently. What I'm saying is that his actions, as I understand them, make no sense to me. I recognize that this is not a particularly persuasive argument against the existence of the Biblical God. Please understand, it's not intended to be. What I'm saying is that any explanation for the existence of suffering in God's creation that requires a literal interpretation of the Bible is extremely unsatisfactory to me. Unless my readers wish to change my mind, I will move on to other possible explanations for the existence of suffering.

[+/-] Not Especially About Pain

I recently came across this post in draft form. I wrote it almost exactly one year ago, and I don't know why I never published it. I like it, and I think it relates to some of my more recent thoughts. Some parts of what I've written here have changed in the past year (for example, I'm not nearly so bitter with God, and it turns out my hair does look good long) and other parts have stayed the same. I still think it's interesting, but then, I'm probably more interested in my own out-of-date thoughts than anyone else. My next post about pain is nearing completion, but in the mean time, this is me a year ago:

It's Christmas time, I'm off school, and come to think of it, today's my birthday. But none of this is particularly exciting right now. The world is cold and grey. I don't know what I believe, but I know it's not what I want to believe. I'm confused, and I know I'm not smart enough or diligent enough for this task. God seems not to be on side, and that doesn't help. I feel at peace about the process I've engaged myself in - the process of questioning and fighting through my faith. I know this is what I should be doing, but I also know that I cannot do it well. I know that I'm too emotional, too lazy, too tired and skeptical and too human to find God or truth. So the problem is not that what I'm doing is wrong, it's that I am doing it poorly, and I cannot do it better. I've been dwelling a lot on hell, and I don't know how much of what I've written on this will ever be published here, but it's fairly discouraging.

What I've read in the past 24 hours: part of an old book about why the KJV is the only Bible translation you should read, and parts of another book about why the Charismatic movement is bad and miracles ceased after the NT was written. Neither seemed particularly well thought through or honest.

Random stuff: I'm thinking about people I know, and their various viewpoints. I talked to a girl the other day who is no longer a Christian, and who says that rejecting Christianity was the most wonderful, uplifting experience of her life. I talked with my relatives about Christianity and the Bible, which they hold to be the inspired word of God. I talked to various people about hell, and how to reconcile the doctrine of hell with my beliefs about God's goodness. I talked to friends who are struggling with the church, friends who are walking away from the church, and friends who embody the church. I talked with a few people about how the direction I'm headed will cause me to be more and more detached from the church, simply because I will be less and less able to volunteer in Christian ministry. I was kissed twice this week: once by my grandma, who's in the hospital, and once by a mentally ill homeless man. It's 5:00 right now, and it's cold and dark out. I have a party to go to tonight. I generally hate parties, but I was at a good one the other day. People are dying in the world today. I'm feeling melancholic, and I'm not wearing socks. It looks like Hotel Rwanda may not be playing in Edmonton. Has anyone talked with God lately? How is he doing? I hear he might be in Africa. I don't think I really like him. He's done a lot of bad stuff in the past, and he doesn't seem to be sorry for it. He's pretty icy, hard to get close too. I think I may resent the fact that he's the center of my life. Everything I think about and do revolves around him, and he knows it. I wish I could go a day without thinking about God, just living, loving, doing stuff, and not bothering about prayer or ethics or the problems in Jude. I wish I could just be myself and sort of have my own ideas about God and religion that don't come to the surface unless someone asks me about them. And then I could think for a bit and explain some of how I feel about God and stuff, and we could chat about it or whatever, but it wouldn't be me, you know? It wouldn't be what I'm all about.

I think one of the big problems with me is that I'm afraid of hell. I guess most people are, but it's so stupid. Just do your best - that's all you can do. And maybe someday when you're dead God will say "sorry, you thought the wrong stuff, so damn you", or maybe he won't. He chose not to make this straight-forward. That was his choice, not mine. I can't get myself all bent out of shape about something I really have no control over. If I wasn't afraid of hell, I think I could do a lot of things with my mind.

One thing I really value in my friends is their differences. I have friends that are a lot like me, and others that are so different. I grow when I interact with them, because they stop my thoughts from becoming inbred and redundant. But I wish I had more diversity in my friends. I don't make friends easily, is the problem, but if I had my choice I'd have Mormon and Jewish and Muslim and Catholic and atheist friends, and gays and feminists and humanists. I'd have some friends that were really smart, but others that weren't. Some of my friends would be open and tolerant and great to talk to, but others would be closed-minded and a little irritating. Some of my friends would like to go to coffee shops, and I'd go with them and talk about global responsibility and philosophy and love. As long as I'm wishing, I'd also like the taste of coffee and Chinese food. My hair would look good long, and I'd be able to play the guitar. I'd probably have a girlfriend.

(That was a segway.) I found myself wishing I had a girlfriend the other day. Not in a "oh man, I need get a girlfriend soon" way, but in a kind of whimsical, "some day it would be cool" way. My girlfriend would be smart and honest, and I'd think she was very pretty, though she wouldn't believe me, because girls are weird like that. She'd be someone who I could be very, very real with. She'd know me better than anyone else; she'd be like the second me. She wouldn't know me perfectly, because that's impossible, but she'd know me about as well as I know me, and she'd have a different view of me, and I'd come to her to try to find out who I am. She'd play the piano, I guess. Or the guitar, but I'm already pretending I play the guitar. I don't care, it could be the other way around, or maybe one of us plays the violin or something. But it couldn't be a wind instrument, because you have to be able to sing while you play. I would lie on my bed reading poetry by candle light, and she would come over without calling first and practice her violin, playing sad songs and singing in French, and I'd pretend to keep reading, but I'd just listen to her voice and her violin making beautiful sounds I didn't understand, and she'd know I was listening more than reading because I'd start to cry. I just wish I had a #1, you know? A best, best friend, but more than that.

I think the god-shaped hole is a myth. I think we have a something-shaped hole, but no one really knows what the shape is exactly. I doubt anyone's ever done a good job of filling this hole with God. Not that God couldn't fill it, maybe, but he doesn't. He just sits up there and does whatever he does (probably holds the world together or something) and he's not that interested in filling your hole.

[+/-] The Problem

The problem of pain is a simple one. We know it intuitively. In straight-forward terms it is the question of how terrible suffering can exist if there is a loving God. The more philosophical-sounding way of stating it is this:

1. God is omniscient (knows everything)
2. God is omnipotent (can do anything)
3. God is omnibenevolent (is completely loving)
4. There is gratuitous suffering (suffering without any good reason)

All of the above cannot possibly be true. If people and animals suffer without any good reason, then either God does not know about it, or he is powerless to stop it, or he does not love us, or he does not exist. Those are the only options. (It is taken for granted that a being who loves another will not wish his/her beloved to endure gratuitous suffering.)

Clearly, this presents a huge problem for people who believe in God. No one can deny that there is a lot of suffering in the world. No one can deny that this suffering often appears to have no positive effect, or at least, to have far more negative effects than positive. So what do you do? If you're dead set on believing in God (or if you find the arguments for God's existence so convincing that they overwhelm any counterarguments) you basically have two options. You can say that all suffering, no matter how terrible and senseless it may appear, has a sufficient purpose, or you can say that God is not aware of this suffering, or can do nothing to prevent it, or simply doesn't care.

The first option is certainly more appealing, if you're fond of the omni-everything concept of God. Some have tried to explain how all pain has a purpose, or at least, how it is conceivable that all pain may have a purpose. Failing that, most theists will want to put some limit on God's omnipotence by explaining how God cannot break certain laws (for example, human free will) and is thus powerless to prevent suffering. Few will wish to say that God is not aware of our suffering, because this makes him very weak and uninvolved. A few might challenge God's omnibenevolence, saying that perhaps God is so repulsed by our sinfulness that he pours out his well-deserved wrath upon us in the form of suffering. And if all of this fails, there is always Atheism. Also, it should be noted that this problem can be solved by positing two or more Gods, one of whom is malevolent or sadistic.

One final response is worth mentioning. Many people (in fact, I think the majority) say they simply are not capable of finding the solution to this problem, but they cope better with suffering by believing in a loving God, and they will therefore choose to have faith that the existence of a loving God is not inconsistent with the immense suffering, though they cannot imagine how. This is certainly a respectable position. Indeed, if we conclude that we are unfit (because of lack of evidence or insufficient intelligence) to render a verdict on this matter, it may be the most responsible position. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

This post is intended merely to introduce the problem and list the main types of responses to it. I intend to expand on and critique most or all of these responses in subsequent posts. I appreciate the reading suggestions my readers have offered, but I doubt I'll have time to read many of them. However, I believe that I'm familiar with most of the arguments presented in these books, though perhaps not in exactly the same form, and I fully intend to address each of them. I trust that my readers will alert me if they feel I have overlooked, misrepresented, or too quickly dismissed an important position.