Problem of Suffering: Doug's Rebuttal

A reader who I will call 'Doug' had a rebuttal to my Problem of Suffering critique:

Your argument seems to be that gratuitous suffering cannot exist because a God who is omnipotent, omniscient, and omnibenevolent would not allow it. The problem is that the presence of gratuitous suffering is the test; we must establish that it does or doesn't exist without deferring to the conclusion we're trying to establish. We can't just hand-wave away suffering as 'not gratuitous' by simply assuming it must have some purpose if we are right that there is a God. It's an empty argument, and one instantly seen-through by anyone with a passing knowledge of the logical fallacies.

You seem to have misunderstood what my argument is. It is not simply that God "would not allow it." Rather, it is that gratuitous suffering stands in contradiction to a God whose attributes are omnipotence, omniscience, and omnibenevolence—in the same way that an 'immovable object' stands in contradiction to an 'irresistible force'. Either gratuitous suffering exists or God exists; it is logically impossible (by the very definition of the terms involved) for them to both exist. That's the sticking point. It's more than theologically untenable; it is logically impossible. This is why presupposing the existence gratuitous suffering commits the question-begging fallacy.

Pointless Belief

From the EthicalAtheist.com web page "Questions for God" [1]:

Why don't you show yourself? You supposedly made us and want us to believe in you, right? Why the big mystery? You're also omnipresent, right? Why don't you show yourself to all of us at once and have a personal discussion with us? You can pick the date and time, we'll all stop what we are doing, I'm sure.

Why doesn't God dance when you want him to, and to the tune of your choosing? Why doesn't God put on some righteous cosmic magic show to convince you that he exists? Allow me to submit what I think is a far more pertinent question: "What would be the point?"

Imagine for a moment that God does your bidding. Whatever it would take to convince you that he exists, let's assume for the sake of argument that he produced it. Presto, you affirm that indeed God exists.

Now what?

So you now believe he exists. Well that's fantastic but, if I may be so bold, "So what?" What does this profit you? Are you so ignorant and out of touch that you think God will love you and accept you just because you assent intellectually to his existence? Are you so presumptuous as to dismiss with a wave of the hand your tremendous debt of moral culpability and (even worse) God's righteousness and sovereignty? Is God supposed to be so overwhelmed with gratitude for your cognitive approbation that he will just ignore the holy demands of justice? It's great that you now believe he exists. But so what? Will you now obey his commands? Do you throw away your ethics and other philosophical commitments and subject yourself fully to the will of God and what he demands?

No.

Why doesn't he show himself? Why doesn't he put on a cosmic magic show to convince atheists he exists? Because it would be pointless. It profits him nothing. It profits the atheist nothing. The atheist's intellectual assent is barren and impotent. For Satan himself believes that God exists, and he will believe that all the way to hell. The problem is not in the atheist's head but in his heart. When it comes to a relationship with God, the atheist's problem is not an intellectual one, but a moral one—on several different fronts.

As Rabbi Harold Kushner so eloquently put the matter:

Paul, whose conversation with me ultimately flowered into this book [2], assured me that while he did not believe in religion, he believed in God. I asked him what he meant by that, and he told me that when he contemplates the beauty and intricacy of the world, he has to believe that God exists. That’s very nice, I told him, and I’m sure God appreciates your vote of confidence. But for the religious mind and soul, the issue has never been the existence of God but the importance of God, the difference that God makes in the way we live. To believe that God exists the way that you believe the South Pole exists, though you have never seen either one, to believe in the reality of God the way you believe in the Pythagorean theorem as an accurate abstract statement that does not really affect your daily life, is not a religious stance. A God who exists but does not matter, who does not make a difference in the way you live, might as well not exist.

Britney (Bebo Norman)

(To listen, click here)

Britney, I'm sorry for the lies we told.
We took you into our arms, then left you cold.
Britney, I'm sorry for this cruel, cruel world.
We sell the beauty but destroy the girl.
Britney, I'm sorry for your broken heart.
We stood aside and watched you fall apart.
I'm sorry we told you fame would fill you up,
And money moves the man, so drink the cup.

I know love goes around the world. We know.
And you never see it coming back.
You never see it coming back.
I know love goes around the world. We know.
And you never see it coming back.
But I can see it coming back for you.
Yes, coming back for you.

Britney, I'm sorry for the stones we throw.
We tear you down just so we can watch the show.
Britney, I'm sorry for the words we say.
We point the finger as you fall from grace.

I know love goes around the world. We know.
And you never see it coming back.
You never see it coming back.
I know love goes around the world. We know.
And you never see it coming back.
But I can see it coming back for you.

Britney, I do believe that love has come.
Here for the broken, here for the ones like us

I know love goes around the world. We know.
And you never see it coming back.
You never see it coming back.
I know love goes around the world. We know.
And you never see it coming back.
But I can see it coming back for you.

It's coming back for you.

---

The Story Behind the Song (in Bebo Norman's own words)
(taken from CCMagazine.com)

"Britney" is a song about what our culture says and does to young women these days. It's a collective apology for the struggle girls face growing up too fast in today's overly adult-oriented world. The song confesses, "I’m sorry for the lies we told / We took you into our arms, then left you cold / I'm sorry for this cruel, cruel world / We sell the beauty but destroy the girl." It's about the lies we tell them: about fame, and money, and what’s beautiful, and what will give them life. It's an apology for those lies. But more than that, it's an invitation to the truth about a God who is bigger than the pain this world so often leaves them in."

"I was up late. Couldn’t sleep, watching some news channel when yet another story about Britney Spears came on. My first instinct was to scoff and write it off. But then there was this freeze-frame shot of a look on her face of utter and absolute despair and confusion and brokenness—a look that I recognized. And I remember thinking, "This girl is a child of God." Suddenly I saw her story not as something to mock but as a real-life tragedy that is desperate for redemption and hope—a story not so different from any of our stories. Take away all the lights and cameras and it's really just a narrative of a girl so clearly in need of love, so clearly in need of the redeeming love of our God."

"And suddenly all I wanted to do was just apologize, over and over. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. On behalf of this fallen world. On behalf of our consumerism that so consistently devours what it wants and leaves the remnants in the wake of the search for the next fix. On behalf of believers, like myself, who mock and hurl stones rather than scribbling a message in the sand."

"I think that night I saw her through the eyes of Jesus for the first time. I imagined what Jesus would say to me in my darkest hour and realized that those are the words we should speak to this world, to this culture—and even to Britney Spears—in their darkest hour. "I'm sorry. Hope is here."

Sam Harris and the Problem of Evil

Cleaning up and organizing my blog this evening, I noticed this brief excerpt from Sam Harris sitting as an unpublished 'Draft' in my index of blog posts. Evidently I had intended to compose a response but for some reason forgot all about it. It is a succinct Problem of Evil argument which I pulled from his "An Atheist Manifesto" [1]:

[God is responsible for human suffering. There is no other way to properly frame the issue.] This is the age-old problem of theodicy, of course, and we should consider it solved. If God exists, either He can do nothing to stop the most egregious calamities, or He does not care to. God, therefore, is either impotent or evil.

After listing some examples of human suffering—Hurricane Katrina, the Holocaust, genocide in Rwanda, etc.—with rhetoric guaranteed to stir up the emotions of his readers, he then asks them to think rationally. If it is the case that his readers are supposed to think rationally about the issue, why did Harris invest so much energy into fomenting their emotions in the ten preceding paragraphs? Because his readers must react emotionally in order for his argument to work. If his readers truly were to think critically armed with reason, the embarrassing holes in his argument would become immediately obvious.

What ought to be the philosophical rebuttal to his PoE argument? Harris believes that pious readers "will now execute the following pirouette: God cannot be judged by merely human standards of morality" (which he finds ludicrous because, according to him, "human standards of morality are precisely what the faithful use to establish God’s goodness in the first place"). Well no, that is not the response Harris can expect to his argument. Even though it is true that God cannot be judged by human standards of morality (for a complex of reasons that Harris' dogmatic bigotry would likely prevent him from anticipating), that would not be the right critical response.

If his readers were to think critically armed with reason, they should immediately note (or at the very least suspect) that Harris' argument committed the fallacy of bifurcation or false dilemma, which involves "a situation in which only two alternatives are considered, when in fact there are other options" [2].

Since God is said to be omniscient and omnipotent—i.e., he knows these calamities will happen and possesses the power to stop them—then indeed he obviously "does not care to" stop them; he is infinitely able to but for some reason doesn't stop these calamities. Now, this leads Harris to conclude that God is therefore "evil" but such a conclusion does not follow reasonably from the stated premises. Harris is operating from a premise that is suppressed. Like I said, God is infinitely able to but for some reason doesn't stop these calamities. That is the closet in which can be found the hidden premise that Harris drew his conclusion from.

Only if God's reason (for not stopping this or that calamity) is rooted in "malice" can he be considered evil, if he did it out of some sick enjoyment of inflicting gratuitous harm on others or watching people suffer. But what if his reason is rooted in justice, such that a calamity fell upon people who deserved it? Moreover, what if his just reason for allowing some calamity to befall one person led to not only strengthening their personal development but also to a net greater good in the future for hundreds or thousands of others? In such cases God is not evil at all for allowing the calamity, which firmly proves the fallacy of bifurcation Harris committed. God can know a calamity will happen and possess the power to stop it but nevertheless allow it to happen and not be evil for doing so.

So now the readers need to decide which is more plausible, and I will tell them how they can do that. I can cite multiple pieces of evidence showing where God allowed egregious calamities to occur for the purpose of justice or a greater good, whereas Harris cannot cite one single example of God doing so for the purpose of malice. Not even one. Harris can assume malice out of baseless assertion or personal incredulity but he cannot prove it from evidence. So if I have several pieces of evidence for my contention (e.g., Gen. 50:20; cf. Gen. 45:4-11) and Harris has zero for his, where should the reader think the plausibility lies? The answer is pretty obvious.

The Problem of Evil argument presented by Harris is fallacious and bankrupt. He needs to go back to the drawing board and firm up his suppressed premise, next time exposing it honestly.

Broken (Lifehouse)

The broken clock is a comfort. It helps me sleep tonight.
Maybe it can stop tomorrow from stealing all my time.
And I am here still waiting, though I still have my doubts.
I am damaged, at best—like You've already figured out.

I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing,
With a broken heart that's still beating.
In the pain there is healing,
In Your name I find meaning.

The broken locks were a warning: You got inside my head.
I tried my best to be guarded; I'm an open book instead.
And I still see Your reflection inside of my eyes
That are looking for purpose; they're still looking for life.

I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing,
With a broken heart that's still beating.
In the pain is the healing,
In Your name I find meaning.

So I'm holding on (I'm still holding)
I'm holding on (I'm still holding)
I'm holding on (I'm still holding)
I'm barely holding on to You

I'm hanging on another day,
Just to see what You will throw my way.
I'm hanging on to the words You say.
You said that I will be okay.

The broken lights on the freeway left me here alone.
I may have lost my way now; haven't forgotten my way home.

I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing,
With a broken heart that's still beating.
In the pain there is healing,
In Your name I find meaning.

So I'm holding on (I'm still holding)
I'm holding on (I'm still holding)
I'm holding on (I'm still holding)
I'm barely holding on to You