Thursday, July 16, 2020 (today’s lectionary)
Theodicy, God’s response to the problem of evil
Darkness falls, filled with the sounds of gentle rain. Tornado watches and warnings dot the weather map all around us. Our chickens are wet and fit more easily on their roosting bar, settling in for the night. They look at me with bright eyes when I shine my light in on them. They’ll be sleeping soon, as will I.
My soul yearns for you in the night.
My spirit keeps vigil for you.
Four hundred years ago Leibniz coined the word “theodicy,” although in German. The word denotes our attempts to understand God’s response to evil. Leibniz believed we live in “the best of all possible worlds,” not because our problems are resolved but because we are consoled by God’s presence.
O Lord, you mete out peace to us
For it is you who have accomplished all we have done.
For three hundred of the years since Leibniz we have endeavored to console ourselves. We have believed we will overcome our finitude and “solve” the problem of evil for ourselves.
It has not been solved.
We conceived and writhed in pain
Gave birth only to wind
Salvation we have not achieved upon the earth
The inhabitants of the world cannot bring it forth.
In his book A Profound Ignorance, Ephraim Radner wrote “There is only one way to endure a world always about to fall apart. It is taught to us in Psalm 46, “Be still and know that I am God.”
Jesus calls us to slow down, then stop. Break into the centrifugal force of unremitting daily life.
Come to me, all of you who are weary and heavy laden
And I will give you rest.
Rest, and share Sabbath with me.
Restore the sacred rhythm. Break the bread, drink the living water, and be healed in my attending presence.
R. R. Reno reviewed Radner’s book in August/September 2020’s First Things magazine:
Radner argues that the remarkable discoveries of the modern era—geographical, moral, political, and technological—created tremendous hopes. Those hopes were again and again dashed against the hard realities of human sinfulness. If ships can sail to new regions, why can’t mankind enter into a new epoch of spiritual maturity? If we can eliminate smallpox, why can’t we stamp out injustice everywhere?
The question begs to be answered. What is this COVID-19 thing? Black lives matter. My friend had a massive stroke. Another is facing an unfair prison term. My son wonders about what to do next now that the place he worked has closed.
A fly is buzzing around my computer screen. I know soon it will land on my head, nestle into the hair just above my forehead. Should I give it a good whack, or let it go on with its life?
Why can’t we stamp out injustice!
The dynamic of raised expectations and bitter disappointments generated what Radner calls “theodical pressure.” Modernity is modern because it struggles to justify, in word and deed, our hope that somehow things will end well.
Help me, help me! Somebody help the boy!
When I suffer, God draws near. But his attendance is not a “solution” to remove the evil afflicting me. Rather than removing it, God overshadows. If evil is nothing more than the absence of Good, then God’s good presence is all I need. I do not need to “solve” the problem of evil. I can’t eradicate what doesn’t exist. And the healing within me, the healing of “Presence,” surpasses every expectation.
Our grandson Miles, who will be four in November, Face-Timed us today, breaking in to our quiet afternoon. He roared his terrible roar and began jumping on his parents’ bed. He was laughing as hard as he could. He had to hold his stomach, but with Andi’s encouragement he got out his question.
“How was your trip!?” Our trip was fine, but not as fine as watching you and laughing too.
Jasper rolled around underneath him. Andi told us Miles had a photography lesson today. He learned how to frame a shot and wait for the right moment. Soon they had to go eat supper, and whiz-bang! Miles pushed the button and they were gone as quick as they arrived.
Life abounded just then in our afternoon, taken in great deep breaths by all of us involved. God’s presence filled the room.
Your dead shall live, your corpses rise
Awake and sing, all you who lie in the dust
Your dew is a dew of light
And the land of shades gives birth.
(Isaiah 26, Psalm 102, Matthew 11)
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