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Sunday, January 5, 2025

Omnipotence paradox

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Omnipotence_paradox
Detail depicting Averroes, who addressed the omnipotence paradox in the 12th century. From the 14th-century Triunfo de Santo Tomás by Andrea da Firenze (di Bonaiuto).

The omnipotence paradox is a family of paradoxes that arise with some understandings of the term omnipotent. The paradox arises, for example, if one assumes that an omnipotent being has no limits and is capable of realizing any outcome, even a logically contradictory one such as creating a square circle. Atheological arguments based on the omnipotence paradox are sometimes described as evidence for countering theism. Other possible resolutions to the paradox hinge on the definition of omnipotence applied and the nature of God regarding this application and whether omnipotence is directed toward God Himself or outward toward his external surroundings.

The omnipotence paradox has medieval origins, dating at least to the 10th century, when the Saadia Gaon responded to the question of whether God's omnipotence extended to logical absurdities. It was later addressed by Averroes and Thomas Aquinas. Pseudo-Dionysius the Areopagite (before 532) has a predecessor version of the paradox, asking whether it is possible for God to "deny Himself".

The best-known version of the omnipotence paradox is the paradox of the stone: "Could God create a stone so heavy that even he could not lift it?" This is a paradoxical question because if God could create something he could not lift, then he would not be omnipotent. Similarly, if God was able to lift the stone then that would mean he was unable to create something he could not lift, leading to the same result. Alternative statements of the paradox include "If given the axioms of Euclidean geometry, can an omnipotent being create a triangle whose angles do not add up to 180 degrees?" and "Can God create a prison so secure that he cannot escape from it?".

Overview

A common modern version of the omnipotence paradox is expressed in the question: "Can [an omnipotent being] create a stone so heavy that it cannot lift it?" This question generates a dilemma. The being can either create a stone it cannot lift, or it cannot create a stone it cannot lift. If the being can create a stone that it cannot lift, then it is not omnipotent because there is a weight threshold beyond its own power to lift. If the being cannot create a stone it cannot lift, then there is something it cannot create, and is therefore not omnipotent. In either case, the being is not omnipotent.

A related issue is whether the concept of "logically possible" is different for a world in which omnipotence exists than a world in which omnipotence does not exist.

The dilemma of omnipotence is similar to another classic paradox—the irresistible force paradox: "What would happen if an irresistible force were to meet an immovable object?" One response to this paradox is to disallow its formulation, by saying that if a force is irresistible, then by definition there is no immovable object; or conversely, if an immovable object exists, then by definition no force can be irresistible. Another response to this that the only way out of this paradox is if the irresistible force and immovable object never meet. However this does not hold up under scrutiny, because an object cannot in principle be immovable if a force exists that can in principle move it, regardless of whether the force and the object actually meet.

Types of omnipotence

Augustine of Hippo in his City of God writes "God is called omnipotent on account of His doing what He wills" and thus proposes the definition that "Y is omnipotent" means "If Y wishes to do X then Y can and does do X".

The notion of omnipotence can also be applied to an entity in different ways. An essentially omnipotent being is an entity that is necessarily omnipotent. In contrast, an accidentally omnipotent being is an entity that can be omnipotent for a temporary period of time, and then becomes non-omnipotent. The omnipotence paradox can be applied to each type of being differently.

In addition, some philosophers have considered the assumption that a being is either omnipotent or non-omnipotent to be a false dilemma, as it neglects the possibility of varying degrees of omnipotence. Some modern approaches to the problem have involved semantic debates over whether language—and therefore philosophy—can meaningfully address the concept of omnipotence itself.

Proposed answers

Omnipotence does not mean breaking the laws of logic

A common response from philosophers is that the paradox assumes a wrong definition of omnipotence. Omnipotence, they say, does not mean that God can do anything at all but, rather, that he can do anything that is logically possible; he cannot, for instance, make a square circle. Likewise, God cannot make a being greater than himself, because he is, by definition, the greatest possible being. God is limited in his actions to his nature. The Bible, in passages such as Hebrews 6:18, says it is "impossible for God to lie".

A good example of a modern defender of this line of reasoning is George Mavrodes. Essentially, Mavrodes argues that it is no limitation on a being's omnipotence to say that it cannot make a round square. Such a "task" is termed by him a "pseudo-task" as it is self-contradictory and inherently nonsense. Harry Frankfurt—following from Descartes—has responded to this solution with a proposal of his own: that God can create a stone impossible to lift and also lift said stone.

For why should God not be able to perform the task in question? To be sure, it is a task—the task of lifting a stone which He cannot lift—whose description is self-contradictory. But if God is supposedly capable of performing one task whose description is self-contradictory—that of creating the problematic stone in the first place—why should He not be supposedly capable of performing another—that of lifting the stone? After all, is there any greater trick in performing two logically impossible tasks than there is in performing one?

If a being is accidentally omnipotent, it can resolve the paradox by creating a stone it cannot lift, thereby becoming non-omnipotent. Unlike essentially omnipotent entities, it is possible for an accidentally omnipotent being to be non-omnipotent. This raises the question, however, of whether the being was ever truly omnipotent, or just capable of great power. On the other hand, the ability to voluntarily give up great power is often thought of as central to the notion of the Christian Incarnation.

If a being is essentially omnipotent, then it can also resolve the paradox. The omnipotent being is essentially omnipotent, and therefore it is impossible for it to be non-omnipotent. Further, the omnipotent being can do what is logically impossible—just like the accidentally omnipotent—and have no limitations except the inability to become non-omnipotent. The omnipotent being cannot create a stone it cannot lift.

The omnipotent being cannot create such a stone because its power is equal to itself—thus, removing the omnipotence, for there can only be one omnipotent being, but it nevertheless retains its omnipotence. This solution works even with definition 2—as long as we also know the being is essentially omnipotent rather than accidentally so. However, it is possible for non-omnipotent beings to compromise their own powers, which presents the paradox that non-omnipotent beings can do something (to themselves) which an essentially omnipotent being cannot do (to itself). This was essentially the position Augustine of Hippo took in his The City of God:

For He is called omnipotent on account of His doing what He wills, not on account of His suffering what He wills not; for if that should befall Him, He would by no means be omnipotent. Wherefore, He cannot do some things for the very reason that He is omnipotent.

Thus, Augustine argued that God could not do anything or create any situation that would, in effect, make God not God.

In a 1955 article in the philosophy journal Mind, J. L. Mackie tried to resolve the paradox by distinguishing between first-order omnipotence (unlimited power to act) and second-order omnipotence (unlimited power to determine what powers to act things shall have). An omnipotent being with both first and second-order omnipotence at a particular time might restrict its own power to act and, henceforth, cease to be omnipotent in either sense. There has been considerable philosophical dispute since Mackie, as to the best way to formulate the paradox of omnipotence in formal logic.

God and logic

Although the most common translation of the noun "Logos" is "Word" other translations have been used. Gordon Clark (1902–1985), a Calvinist theologian and expert on pre-Socratic philosophy, famously translated Logos as "Logic": "In the beginning was the Logic, and the Logic was with God and the Logic was God". He meant to imply by this translation that the laws of logic were derived from God and formed part of Creation, and were therefore not a secular principle imposed on the Christian world view.

God obeys the laws of logic because God is eternally logical in the same way that God does not perform evil actions because God is eternally good. So, God, by nature logical and unable to violate the laws of logic, cannot make a boulder so heavy he cannot lift it because that would violate the law of non contradiction by creating an immovable object and an unstoppable force.

This raises the question, similar to the Euthyphro Dilemma, of where this law of logic, which God is bound to obey, comes from. According to these theologians (Norman Geisler and William Lane Craig), this law is not a law above God that he assents to but, rather, logic is an eternal part of God's nature, like his omniscience or omnibenevolence.

Paradox is meaningless: the question is sophistry

Another common response is that since God is supposedly omnipotent, the phrase "could not lift" does not make sense and the paradox is meaningless. This may mean that the complexity involved in rightly understanding omnipotence—contra all the logical details involved in misunderstanding it—is a function of the fact that omnipotence, like infinity, is perceived at all by contrasting reference to those complex and variable things, which it is not. An alternative meaning, however, is that a non-corporeal God cannot lift anything, but can raise it (a linguistic pedantry)—or to use the beliefs of Hindus (that there is one God, who can be manifest as several different beings) that whilst it is possible for God to do all things, it is not possible for all his incarnations to do them. As such, God could create a stone so heavy that, in one incarnation, he could not lift it, yet could do something that an incarnation that could lift the stone could not.

The lifting a rock paradox (Can God lift a stone larger than he can carry?) uses human characteristics to cover up the main skeletal structure of the question. With these assumptions made, two arguments can stem from it:

  1. Lifting covers up the definition of translation, which means moving something from one point in space to another. With this in mind, the real question would be, "Can God move a rock from one location in space to another that is larger than possible?" For the rock to be unable to move from one space to another, it would have to be larger than space itself. However, it is impossible for a rock to be larger than space, as space always adjusts itself to cover the space of the rock. If the supposed rock was out of space-time dimension, then the question would not make sense—because it would be impossible to move an object from one location in space to another if there is no space to begin with, meaning the faulting is with the logic of the question and not God's capabilities.
  2. The words, "Lift a Stone" are used instead to substitute capability. With this in mind, essentially the question is asking if God is incapable, so the real question would be, "Is God capable of being incapable?" If God is capable of being incapable, it means that He is incapable, because He has the potential to not be able to do something. Conversely, if God is incapable of being incapable, then the two inabilities cancel each other out, making God have the capability to do something.

The act of killing oneself is not applicable to an omnipotent being, since, despite that such an act does involve some power, it also involves a lack of power: the human person who can kill himself is already not indestructible, and, in fact, every agent constituting his environment is more powerful in some ways than himself. In other words, all non-omnipotent agents are concretely synthetic: constructed as contingencies of other, smaller, agents, meaning that they, unlike an omnipotent agent, logically can exist not only in multiple instantiation (by being constructed out of the more basic agents they are made of), but are each bound to a different location in space contra transcendent omnipresence.

George I. Mavrodes responded to this paradox by arguing that the question itself is self-contradictory. He wrote:

"On the assumption that God is omnipotent, the phrase "a stone too heavy for God to lift" becomes self-contradictory. For it becomes "a stone which cannot be lifted by Him whose power is sufficient for lifting anything."... ...it is the very omnipotence of God which makes the existence of such a stone absolutely impossible, while it is the fact that I am finite in power that makes it possible for me to make a boat too heavy for me to lift."

Additionally, he also points out how the question is sophistry. Suppose the objector insists that it's a coherent question, then we reply by affirming that God can create such a stone. It may seem that this reply will force us into the original dilemma. But it does not. For now the objector can draw no damaging conclusion from this answer. And the reason is that he has just now contended that such a stone is compatible with the omnipotence of God. Therefore, from the possibility of God's creating such a stone it cannot be concluded that God is not omnipotent. The objector cannot have it both ways. The conclusion which the objector wishes to draw from an affirmative answer to the original question is itself the required proof that the descriptive phrase which appears there is self-contradictory.

C. S. Lewis argues that when talking about omnipotence, referencing "a rock so heavy that God cannot lift it" is nonsense just as much as referencing "a square circle"; that it is not logically coherent in terms of power to think that omnipotence includes the power to do the logically impossible. So asking "Can God create a rock so heavy that even he cannot lift it?" is just as much nonsense as asking "Can God draw a square circle?" The logical contradiction here being God's simultaneous ability and disability in lifting the rock: the statement "God can lift this rock" must have a truth value of either true or false, it cannot possess both. This is justified by observing that for the omnipotent agent to create such a stone, it must already be more powerful than itself: such a stone is too heavy for the omnipotent agent to lift, but the omnipotent agent already can create such a stone; If an omnipotent agent already is more powerful than itself, then it already is just that powerful. This means that its power to create a stone that is too heavy for it to lift is identical to its power to lift that very stone. While this does not quite make complete sense, Lewis wished to stress its implicit point: that even within the attempt to prove that the concept of omnipotence is immediately incoherent, one admits that it is immediately coherent, and that the only difference is that this attempt is forced to admit this despite that the attempt is constituted by a perfectly irrational route to its own unwilling end, with a perfectly irrational set of 'things' included in that end.

In other words, the 'limit' on what omnipotence 'can' do is not a limit on its actual agency, but an epistemological boundary without which omnipotence could not be identified (paradoxically or otherwise) in the first place. In fact, this process is merely a fancier form of the classic Liar Paradox: If I say, "I am a liar", then how can it be true if I am telling the truth therewith, and, if I am telling the truth therewith, then how can I be a liar? So, to think that omnipotence is an epistemological paradox is like failing to recognize that, when taking the statement, 'I am a liar' self-referentially, the statement is reduced to an actual failure to lie. In other words, if one maintains the supposedly 'initial' position that the necessary conception of omnipotence includes the 'power' to compromise both itself and all other identity, and if one concludes from this position that omnipotence is epistemologically incoherent, then one implicitly is asserting that one's own 'initial' position is incoherent. Therefore, the question (and therefore the perceived paradox) is meaningless. Nonsense does not suddenly acquire sense and meaning with the addition of the two words, "God can" before it. Lewis additionally said that, "Unless something is self-evident, nothing can be proved". This implies for the debate on omnipotence that, as in matter, so in the human understanding of truth: it takes no true insight to destroy a perfectly integrated structure, and the effort to destroy has greater effect than an equal effort to build; so, a man is thought a fool who assumes its integrity, and thought an abomination who argues for it. It is easier to teach a fish to swim in outer space than to convince a room full of ignorant fools why it cannot be done.

Paradox assumes the rock has already been created In 1999, Matthew Whittle asserts that it should not be outside the scope of powers for an omnipotent being to make itself non-omnipotent, so indeed making a rock too heavy to lift is possible for God. The follow on question "Then can he lift it?" assumes that the rock has already been created, so the correct answer would be "Assuming he makes the rock, no". And if asked "Is God thus not all powerful?", the correct answer would be "God is indeed all powerful until such time as the rock is created". The "Paradox" then is not really a paradox.

Language and omnipotence

The philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein is frequently interpreted as arguing that language is not up to the task of describing the kind of power an omnipotent being would have. In his Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus, he stays generally within the realm of logical positivism until claim 6.4—but at 6.41 and following, he argues that ethics and several other issues are "transcendental" subjects that we cannot examine with language. Wittgenstein also mentions the will, life after death, and God—arguing that, "When the answer cannot be put into words, neither can the question be put into words".

Wittgenstein's work expresses the omnipotence paradox as a problem in semantics—the study of how we give symbols meaning. (The retort "That's only semantics," is a way of saying that a statement only concerns the definitions of words, instead of anything important in the physical world.) According to the Tractatus, then, even attempting to formulate the omnipotence paradox is futile, since language cannot refer to the entities the paradox considers. The final proposition of the Tractatus gives Wittgenstein's dictum for these circumstances: "What we cannot speak of, we must pass over in silence".

Wittgenstein's approach to these problems is influential among other 20th century religious thinkers such as D. Z. Phillips. In his later years, however, Wittgenstein wrote works often interpreted as conflicting with his positions in the Tractatus, and indeed the later Wittgenstein is mainly seen as the leading critic of the early Wittgenstein.

Other versions of the paradox

In the 6th century, Pseudo-Dionysius claims that a version of the omnipotence paradox constituted the dispute between Paul the Apostle and Elymas the Magician mentioned in Acts 13:8, but it is phrased in terms of a debate as to whether God can "deny himself" a'la 2 Tim 2:13. In the 11th century, Anselm of Canterbury argues that there are many things that God cannot do, but that nonetheless he counts as omnipotent.

Thomas Aquinas advanced a version of the omnipotence paradox by asking whether God could create a triangle with internal angles that did not add up to 180 degrees. As Aquinas put it in Summa contra Gentiles:

Since the principles of certain sciences, such as logic, geometry and arithmetic are taken only from the formal principles of things, on which the essence of the thing depends, it follows that God could not make things contrary to these principles. For example, that a genus was not predicable of the species, or that lines drawn from the centre to the circumference were not equal, or that a triangle did not have three angles equal to two right angles.

This can be done on a sphere, and not on a flat surface. The later invention of non-Euclidean geometry does not resolve this question; for one might as well ask, "If given the axioms of Riemannian geometry, can an omnipotent being create a triangle whose angles do not add up to more than 180 degrees?" In either case, the real question is whether an omnipotent being would have the ability to evade consequences that follow logically from a system of axioms that the being created.

A version of the paradox can also be seen in non-theological contexts. A similar problem occurs when accessing legislative or parliamentary sovereignty, which holds a specific legal institution to be omnipotent in legal power, and in particular such an institution's ability to regulate itself.

In a sense, the classic statement of the omnipotence paradox—a rock so heavy that its omnipotent creator cannot lift it—is grounded in Aristotelian science. After all, if we consider the stone's position relative to the sun the planet orbits around, one could hold that the stone is constantly lifted—strained though that interpretation would be in the present context. Modern physics indicates that the choice of phrasing about lifting stones should relate to acceleration; however, this does not in itself of course invalidate the fundamental concept of the generalized omnipotence paradox. However, one could easily modify the classic statement as follows: "An omnipotent being creates a universe that follows the laws of Aristotelian physics. Within this universe, can the omnipotent being create a stone so heavy that the being cannot lift it?"

Ethan Allen's Reason addresses the topics of original sin, theodicy and several others in classic Age of Enlightenment fashion. In Chapter 3, section IV, he notes that "omnipotence itself" could not exempt animal life from mortality, since change and death are defining attributes of such life. He argues, "the one cannot be without the other, any more than there could be a compact number of mountains without valleys, or that I could exist and not exist at the same time, or that God should effect any other contradiction in nature". Labeled by his friends a Deist, Allen accepted the notion of a divine being, though throughout Reason he argues that even a divine being must be circumscribed by logic.

In Principles of Philosophy, Descartes tried refuting the existence of atoms with a variation of this argument, claiming God could not create things so indivisible that he could not divide them.

Theodicy

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Theodicy
Gottfried Leibniz coined the term "theodicy" to justify God's existence in light of the apparent imperfections of the world.

In the philosophy of religion, a theodicy (/θˈɒdɪsi/; meaning 'vindication of God', from Ancient Greek θεός theos, "god" and δίκη dikē, "justice") is an argument that attempts to resolve the problem of evil that arises when all power and all goodness are simultaneously ascribed to God.

Unlike a defence, which merely tries to demonstrate that the coexistence of God and evil is logically possible, a theodicy additionally provides a framework wherein God and evil's existence is considered plausible. The German philosopher and mathematician Gottfried Leibniz coined the term "theodicy" in 1710 in his work Théodicée, though numerous attempts to resolve the problem of evil had previously been proposed.

Similar to a theodicy, a cosmodicy attempts to justify the fundamental goodness of the universe, and an anthropodicy attempts to justify the goodness of humanity.

Definition and etymology

As defined by Alvin Plantinga, a theodicy is "an answer to the question of why God permits evil". Theodicy is defined as a theological construct that attempts to vindicate God in response to the problem of evil that appears inconsistent with the existence of an omnipotent and omnibenevolent God. Another definition of theodicy is the vindication of divine goodness and providence in view of the existence of evil. The word theodicy derives from the Greek words Θεός, Theos and δίκη, dikē. Theos is translated "God" and dikē can be translated as either "trial" or "judgement". Thus, 'theodicy' literally means "justifying God".

In the Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy, Nick Trakakis proposed an additional three requirements which must be contained within a theodicy:

  • Common sense views of the world
  • Widely held historical and scientific opinion
  • Plausible moral principles

As a response to the problem of evil, a theodicy is distinct from a defence. A defence attempts to demonstrate that the occurrence of evil does not contradict God's existence, but it does not propose that rational beings are able to understand why God permits evil. A theodicy shows that it is reasonable to believe in God despite evidence of evil in the world and offers a framework which can account for why evil exists. A theodicy is often based on a prior natural theology, which exist to prove the existence of God, and seeks to demonstrate that God's existence remains probable after the problem of evil is posed by giving a justification for God's permitting evil to happen. Defenses propose solutions to the problem of evil, while theodicies attempt to answer the problem.

Pseudo-Dionysius defines evil by those aspects that show an absence of good. Writers in this tradition saw things as reflecting 'forms' and evil as a failure to reflect the appropriate form adequately: as a deficit of goodness where goodness ought to have been present. In the same line of thinking, St. Augustine also defined evil as an absence of good, as did the theologian and monk Thomas Aquinas, who stated "a man is called bad insofar as he lacks a virtue, and an eye is called bad insofar as it lacks the power of sight." Bad as an absence of good resurfaces in Hegel, Heidegger and Barth. Very similar are the Neoplatonists, such as Plotinus and the contemporary philosopher Denis O'Brien, who say that evil is a privation.

It is important to note that there are at least two concepts of evil: a broad concept and a narrow concept. The broad concept picks out any bad state of affairs ... [and] has been divided into two categories: natural evil and moral evil. Natural evils are bad states of affairs which do not result from the intentions or negligence of moral agents. Hurricanes and toothaches are examples of natural evils. By contrast, moral evils do result from the intentions or negligence of moral agents. Murder and lying are examples of moral evils. Evil in the broad sense, which includes all natural and moral evils, tends to be the sort of evil referenced in theological contexts ... [T]he narrow concept of evil picks out only the most morally despicable ... [it] involves moral condemnation, [and] is appropriately ascribed only to moral agents and their actions.

Marxism, "selectively elaborating Hegel", defines evil in terms of its effect. Philosopher John Kekes says the effect of evil must include actual harm that "interferes with the functioning of a person as a full-fledged agent". Christian philosophers and theologians such as Richard Swinburne and N. T. Wright also define evil in terms of effect, stating that an "act is objectively good (or bad) if it is good (or bad) in its consequences". Hinduism defines evil in terms of its effect, saying "the evils that afflict people (and indeed animals) in the present life are the effects of wrongs committed in a previous life." Some contemporary philosophers argue a focus on the effects of evil is inadequate as a definition since evil can observe without actively causing the harm, and it is still evil.

Philosopher Susan Neiman says "a crime against humanity is something for which we have procedures, ... [and it] can be ... fit into the rest of our experience. To call an action evil is to suggest that it cannot [be fitted in]".

Immanuel Kant was the first to offer a purely secular theory of evil, giving an evaluative definition of evil based on its cause as having a will that is not fully good. Kant has been an important influence on philosophers like Hannah Arendt, Claudia Card, and Richard Bernstein. "Hannah Arendt ... uses the term ['radical evil'] to denote a new form of wrongdoing which cannot be captured by other moral concepts." Claudia Card says evil is excessive wrongdoing; others like Hillel Steiner say evil is qualitatively, not quantitatively, distinct from mere wrongdoing.

John Locke, Thomas Hobbes, and Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz define good and evil in terms of pleasure and pain. Others such as Swinburne find that definition inadequate, saying, "the good of individual humans ... consists ... in their having free will ... the ability to develop ... character ..., to show courage and loyalty, to love, to be of use, to contemplate beauty and discover truth ... All that [good] ... cannot be achieved without ... suffering along the way."

Most theorists writing about evil believe that evil action requires a certain sort of motivation ... the desire to cause harm, or to do wrong, ... pleasure (Steiner 2002), the desire to annihilate all being (Eagleton 2010), or the destruction of others for its own sake (Cole 2006). When evil is restricted to actions that follow from these sorts of motivations, theorists sometimes say that their subject is pure, radical, diabolical, or monstrous evil. This suggests that their discussion is restricted to a type, or form, of evil and not to evil per se.

Some theorists define evil by what emotions are connected to it. "For example, Laurence Thomas believes that evildoers take delight in causing harm or feel hatred toward their victims (Thomas 1993, 76–77)." Buddhism defines various types of evil, one type defines as behavior resulting from a failure to emotionally detach from the world.

Christian theologians generally define evil in terms of both human responsibility and the nature of God: "If we take the essentialist view of Christian ethics ... evil is anything contrary to God's good nature ... (character or attributes)." The Judaic view, while acknowledging the difference between the human and divine perspective of evil, is rooted in the nature of creation itself and the limitation inherent in matter's capacity to be perfected; the action of free will includes the potential for perfection from individual effort and leaves the responsibility for evil in human hands.

As Swinburne notes: "[It is] deeply central to the whole tradition of Christian (and other western) religion that God is loving toward his creation and that involves him behaving in morally good ways toward it." Within Christianity, "God is supposed to be in some way personal ... a being who is essentially eternal, omnipotent, omniscient, Creator and sustainer of the universe, and perfectly good. An omnipotent being is one who can do anything logically possible ... such a being could not make me exist and not exist at the same time but he could eliminate the stars ... An omniscient being is one who knows everything logically possible for him to know". "God's perfect goodness is moral goodness."

Reasons for theodicy

Theodicies are developed to answer the question of why a good God permits the manifestation of evil, thus resolving the issue of the problem of evil. Some theodicies also address the problem of evil "to make the existence of an all-knowing, all-powerful and all-good or omnibenevolent God consistent with the existence of evil or suffering in the world".

The philosopher Richard Swinburne says "most theists need a theodicy, [they need] an account of reasons why God might allow evil to occur."

According to Loke, theodicies might have a therapeutical use for some people, though their main purpose is to provide a sound theistic argument rather than to succeed as a therapy. However, theodicies do "seek to provide hope to the sufferers that... evils can be defeated just as minor tribulations can be defeated.

History

The term theodicy was coined by the German philosopher Gottfried Leibniz in his 1710 work, written in French, Essais de Théodicée sur la bonté de Dieu, la liberté de l'homme et l'origine du mal (Theodicy: Essays on the Goodness of God, the Freedom of Man and the Origin of Evil). Leibniz's Théodicée was a response to skeptical Protestant philosopher Pierre Bayle, who wrote in his work Dictionnaire Historique et Critique that, after rejecting three attempts to solve it, he saw no rational solution to the problem of evil. Bayle argued that, because the Bible asserts the coexistence of God and evil, this state of affairs must simply be accepted.

In The Catholic Encyclopedia (1914), Constantine Kempf argued that, following Leibniz's work, philosophers called their works on the problem of evil "theodicies", and philosophy about God was brought under the discipline of theodicy. He argued that theodicy began to include all of natural theology, meaning that theodicy came to consist of the human knowledge of God through the systematic use of reason.

In 1966, British philosopher John Hick published Evil and the God of Love, in which he surveyed various Christian responses to the problem of evil, before developing his own. In his work, Hick identified and distinguished between three types of theodicy: Plotinian, which was named after Plotinus, Augustinian, which had dominated Western Christianity for many centuries, and Irenaean, which was developed by the Eastern Church Father Irenaeus, a version of which Hick subscribed to himself.

In his dialogue "Is God a Taoist?", published in 1977 in his book The Tao Is Silent, Raymond Smullyan claims to prove that it is logically impossible to have sentient beings without allowing "evil", even for God, just as it is impossible for him to create a triangle in the Euclidean plane having an angular sum other than 180 degrees. Therefore, the capability of feeling implies free will, which in turn may produce "evil", understood here as hurting other sentient beings. The problem of evil happening to good or innocent people is not addressed directly here, but both reincarnation and karma are hinted at.

Ancient religions

"Writings and discourses on theodicy by Jews, Greeks, Christians, and Eastern religions have graced our planet for thousands of years." In the Middle Kingdom of Egypt (2000 BC to 1700 BC) as "in Ancient Mesopotamian and Israelite literature", theodicy was an important issue.

Philip Irving Mitchell of the Dallas Baptist University notes that some philosophers have cast the pursuit of theodicy as a modern one, as earlier scholars used the problem of evil to support the existence of one particular god over another, explain wisdom, or explain a conversion, rather than to justify God's goodness. Sarah Iles Johnston argues that ancient civilizations, such as the ancient Mesopotamians, Greeks, Romans, and Egyptians held polytheistic beliefs that may have enabled them to deal with the concept of theodicy differently. These religions taught the existence of many gods and goddesses who controlled various aspects of daily life. These early religions may have avoided the question of theodicy by endowing their deities with the same flaws and jealousies that plagued humanity. No one god or goddess was fundamentally good or evil; this explained that bad things could happen to good people if they angered a deity because the gods could exercise the same free will that humankind possesses. Such religions taught that some gods were more inclined to be helpful and benevolent, while others were more likely to be spiteful and aggressive. In this sense, the evil gods could be blamed for misfortune, while the good gods could be petitioned with prayer and sacrifices to make things right. There was still a sense of justice in that individuals who were right with the gods could avoid punishment.

The "Epicurean trilemma", however, was already raised c. 300 BC by Epicurus, according to David Hume in 1779. According to Hume, the trilemma describes the problem of reconciling an omnipotent deity with their benevolence and the existence of evil. However, if Epicurus did write a discussion on the specific problems that Hume attributes to him, it would not have been tied with the question of an omnibenevolent and omniscient God, as Hume assumes (for Hume does not cite, nor make any implication that he had knowledge of Epicurus's writings on this matter that held any greater weight than academic hearsay or legend).

Biblical theodicy

The biblical account of the justification of evil and suffering in the presence of God has both similarities and contrasts in the Hebrew Bible and the New Testament. For the Hebrew Bible, the Book of Job is often quoted as the authoritative source of discussion.

The author of Job seeks to expand the understanding of divine justice ... beyond mere retribution, to include a system of divine sovereignty [showing] the King has the right to test His subject's loyalty ... The book of Job corrects the rigid and overly simplistic doctrine of retribution in attributing suffering to sin and punishment. It closes with a focus on the bond between creator and creation, on placing one in that, and on hope rooted in belief that God is in ultimate control.

It is generally accepted that God's responsive speeches in Job do not directly answer Job's complaints; God does not attempt to justify himself or reveal the reason for Job's suffering to him; instead, God's speeches focus on increasing Job's overall understanding of his relationship with God. This exemplifies Biblical theodicy. There is general agreement among Bible scholars that the Bible "does not admit of a singular perspective on evil ... Instead we encounter a variety of perspectives ... Consequently [the Bible focuses on] moral and spiritual remedies, not rational or logical [justifications] ... It is simply that the Bible operates within a cosmic, moral and spiritual landscape rather than within a rationalist, abstract, ontological landscape."

This is in evidence in God's first and second speech in Job. God's first speech concerns human ignorance and God's authority. Job had seen himself at the center of events, lamenting that God has singled him out to oppress; God responds that Job is not the center, God is; his kingdom is complex, he governs on a large scale. Since God is in dominion over all the earth, Job cannot conceivably condemn him, unless Job were to prove that he can do all the things God can. God's second speech is against human self-righteousness. Job has vehemently accused God of thwarting justice as "the omnipotent tyrant, the cosmic thug". Some scholars interpret God's response as an admission of failure on his part, but he goes on to say he has the power and in his own timing will bring justice in the end.

"Isaiah is generally recognized as one of the most progressive books of the prophetic corpus." Christian theologians state that in the Bible "suffering is understood as having transcendent meaning ... human agency can give particular instances of suffering a mystical significance that transforms it into something productive."

Theodicy in the Book of Ezekiel (and also in Jeremiah 31:29–30) confronts the concept of personal moral responsibility. The book exemplifies the power of sin in that "The main point is stated at the beginning and at the end—'the soul that sins shall die.'" This 'power of sin' was abolished in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ which renders all believers in Christ and his resurrection, forgiven and therefore righteous. The aforementioned main point "is explicated by a case history of a family traced through three generations". It is not about heredity but is about understanding divine justice in a world under divine governance.

"Theodicy in the Minor Prophets differs little from that in Isaiah, Jeremiah and Ezekiel." For example, the first chapter of Habakkuk raises questions about God's justice, laments God's inaction in punishing injustice, and looks for God's action in response—then objects to what God chooses. Instead of engaging in debate, God gives Habakkuk a vision of the future which includes five oracles that form a theodicy:

  1. God has a plan and has appointed a time for judgment. It may be slow in coming as humans see things, but it will come;
  2. The woe oracles confront the prevalence of evil in the world and the justice those acts have earned;
  3. The vision of the manifestation of God is a recognition of God's power to address these issues;
  4. God as a warrior will fight for his people;
  5. The song of triumph says the faithful will prevail by holding to trust and hope.

Joel and the other minor prophets demonstrate that theodicy and eschatology are connected in the Bible.

Psalm 73 presents the internal struggle created by personal suffering and the prosperity of the wicked. The writer gains perspective when he "enters the sanctuary of God (16-17)" seeing that God's justice will eventually prevail. He reaffirms his relationship with God, is ashamed of his resentment, and chooses trust. Psalm 77 contains real outspokenness to God as well as determination to hold onto faith and trust.

For Christians, the Scriptures assure them that the allowance of evil is for a good purpose based on relationship with God. "Some of the good ... cannot be achieved without delay and suffering, and the evil of this world is indeed necessary for the achievement of those good purposes. ... God has the right to allow such evils to occur, so long as the 'goods' are facilitated and the 'evils' are limited and compensated in the way that various other Christian doctrines (of human free will, life after death, the end of the world, etc.) affirm ... the 'good states' which (according to Christian doctrine) God seeks are so good that they outweigh the accompanying evils."

This is somewhat illustrated in the Book of Exodus when Pharaoh is described as being raised up that God's name be known in all the earth (Exodus 9:16). This is mirrored in Romans 9, where Paul appeals to God's sovereignty as sufficient explanation, with God's goodness experientially known to the Christian.

Augustinian theodicy

The Protestant and Calvinist reading of Augustinian theodicy, as promoted primarily by John Hick, is based on the writings of Augustine of Hippo, a Christian philosopher and theologian who lived from AD 354 to 430. The Catholic (pre-Reformation) formulation of the same issue is substantially different and is outlined below. In Hick's approach, this form of theodicy argues that evil does not exist except as a privation—or corruption—of goodness, and therefore God did not create evil. Augustinian scholars have argued that God created the world perfectly, with no evil or human suffering. Evil entered the world through the disobedience of Adam and Eve and the theodicy casts the existence of evil as a just punishment for this original sin. The theodicy argues that humans have an evil nature in as much as it is deprived of its original goodness, form, order, and measure due to the inherited original sin of Adam and Eve, but still ultimately remains good due to existence coming from God, for if a nature was completely evil (deprived of the good), it would cease to exist. It maintains that God remains blameless and good.

In the Roman Catholic reading of Augustine, the issue of just war as developed in his book The City of God substantially established his position concerning the positive justification of killing, suffering and pain as inflicted upon an enemy when encountered in war for a just cause. Augustine asserted that peacefulness in the face of a grave wrong that could only be stopped by violence would be a sin. Defense of one's self or others could be a necessity, especially when authorized by a legitimate authority. While not elaborating the conditions necessary for war to be just, Augustine nonetheless originated the very phrase, itself, in his work The City of God. In essence, the pursuit of peace must include the option of fighting with all of its eventualities in order to preserve peace in the long-term. Such a war could not be pre-emptive, but defensive, to restore peace. Thomas Aquinas, centuries later, used the authority of Augustine's arguments in an attempt to define the conditions under which a war could be just.

Irenaean theodicy

Irenaeus (died c. 202), born in the early 2nd century, expressed ideas which explained the existence of evil as necessary for human development. Irenaeus argued that human creation comprised two parts: humans were made first in the image, then in the likeness, of God. The image of God consists of having the potential to achieve moral perfection, whereas the likeness of God is the achievement of that perfection. To achieve moral perfection, Irenaeus suggested that humans must have free will. To achieve such free will, humans must experience suffering and God must be at an epistemic distance (a distance of knowledge) from humanity. Therefore, evil exists to allow humans to develop as moral agents. In the 20th century, John Hick collated the ideas of Irenaeus into a distinct theodicy. He argued that the world exists as a "vale of soul-making" (a phrase that he drew from John Keats), and that suffering and evil must therefore occur. He argued that human goodness develops through the experience of evil and suffering.

Compensation theodicy

According to the strong version of Compensation Theodicy advanced by Seyyed Jaaber Mousavirad, there are two elements that, when considered together, can solve the problem of evil:

  1. The primary good within evil, even though it may not be greater than the evil itself or even return to the same inflicted individual. This element resolves the problem of the futility of evils.
  2. Compensation in the afterlife. This element, as a complementary factor, can explain how the justice of God is compatible with evils.

Given the strong version of this theodicy, if evils will be compensated, the existence of some good is enough to justify them, even though there will be no resulting greater good in this world.

Likewise, if evils will be compensated, it is not necessary for them to be distributed equally. Even if an evil has no good for an individual, while it has some good for others, it is reasonable for it to occur. 

Origenian theodicy

In direct response to John Hick's description of theodicy, Mark Scott has indicated that neither Augustine of Hippo nor Irenaeus of Lyons provide an appropriate context for the discussion of Hick's theistic version of theodicy. As a theologian among the Church Fathers who articulated a theory of apokatastasis (or universal reconciliation), Origen of Alexandria provides a more direct theological comparison for the discussion of Hick's presentation of universal salvation and theodicy. Neither Irenaeus nor Augustine endorsed a theology of universal salvation in any form comparable to that of John Hick.

Relatively minor theodicies

Michael Martin summarizes what he calls "relatively minor" theodicies:

  • The finite God theodicy maintains that God is all-good (omnibenevolent) but not all-powerful (omnipotent).
  • The best of all possible worlds theodicy, a traditional theology and defended by Leibniz, argues that the creation is the best of all possible worlds.
  • The original sin theodicy holds that evil came into the world because of humanity's original sin.
  • The ultimate harmony theodicy justifies evil as leading to "good long-range consequences".
  • The "degree of desirability of a conscious state" theodicy has been reckoned a "complex theodicy". It argues that a person's state is deemed evil only when it is undesirable to the person. However, because God is unable to make a person's state desirable to the person, the theodic problem does not exist.
  • The reincarnation theodicy believes that people suffer evil because of their wrongdoing in a previous life.
  • The contrast theodicy holds that evil is needed to enable people to appreciate or understand good.
  • The warning theodicy rationalizes evil as God's warning to people to mend their ways.

A defence has been proposed by the American philosopher Alvin Plantinga, which is focused on showing the logical possibility of God's existence. Plantinga's version of the free-will defence argued that the coexistence of God and evil is not logically impossible, and that free will further explains the existence of evil without contradicting the existence of God.

Islam

Ashʿarī theology

Most Sunni theologians analyzed theodicy from an anti-realist metaethical standpoint. Ash'ari theologians argued that ordinary moral judgments stem from emotion and social convention, which are inadequate to either condemn or justify divine actions. Ash'arites hold that God creates everything, including human actions, but distinguish creation (khalq) from acquisition (kasb) of actions. They allow individuals the latter ability, though they do not posit existence of free will in a fuller sense of the term. In the words of Al-Shahrastani (1086–1153):

God creates, in man, the power, ability, choice, and will to perform an act, and man, endowed with this derived power, chooses freely one of the alternatives and intends or wills to do the action, and, corresponding to this intention, God creates and completes the action.

Ash'ari theology insists on ultimate divine transcendence and teaches that human knowledge regarding it is limited to what has been revealed through the prophets, so that on the question of God's creation of evil, revelation has to be accepted bila kayfa (without asking how).

Māturīdism

In contrast to Ash'arites, Maturidi adheres to moral realism (human mind is able to grasp good and evil independent from revelation), yet disagrees with the Mu'tazilite assertion that God's wisdom entails creating only what is good. Good and evil, though real, are considered to be created by God, thus God is not subject to good and evil, humans merely learn whatever God created. Blaming God for a violation of right and wrong is thus considered undue, since God created right and wrong in the first place. Whatever is considered evil by humans, would be ultimately good. A distinction exists among those who follow tawhid and those who reject it. Maturidi cites Surah Al Imran verse 178, to point out that God does not regard believers and unbelievers as equal; God would increase the sin of the sinners (and guide the believers).

According to the Maturidite school of thought, ontological evil serves a greater purpose and is a in essence a hidden good. Since God's wisdom is not considered to focus on choosing between good and evil, it is concerned with putting things in their proper place. The existence of evil as separate from good (or opposing good) is rejected throughout sources of Maturidite thinkers. Maturidi himself criticizes believing in the opposition of good and evil as a remnant of Persian dualistic religions. Rumi likewise said in his refutation of Ahriman (principle of evil) that "good cannot exist without evil" and "there is no separation between them".

Mu'tazilism

Mu'tazila theologians approached the problem of theodicy within a framework of moral realism, according to which the moral value of acts is accessible to unaided reason, so that humans can make moral judgments about divine acts. They argued that the divine act of creation is good despite existence of suffering, because it allows humans a compensation of greater reward in the afterlife. They posited that individuals have free will to commit evil and absolved God of responsibility for such acts. God's justice thus consists of punishing wrongdoers. Following the demise of Mu'tazila as a school, their theodicy was adopted in the Zaydi and Twelver branches of Shia Islam.

Ibn Sina, the most influential Muslim philosopher, analyzed theodicy from a purely ontological, neoplatonic standpoint, aiming to prove that God, as the absolutely good First Cause, created a good world. Ibn Sina argued that evil refers either to a cause of an entity (such as burning in a fire), being a quality of another entity, or to its imperfection (such as blindness), in which case it does not exist as an entity. According to Ibn Sina, such qualities are necessary attributes of the best possible order of things, so that the good they serve is greater than the harm they cause.

Philosophical Sufi theologians such as Ibn Arabi were influenced by the neoplatonic theodicy of Ibn Sina. Al-Ghazali anticipated the optimistic theodicy of Leibniz in his dictum "There is nothing in possibility more wonderful than what is." Fakhr al-Din al-Razi, who represented the mainstream Sunni view, challenged Ibn Sina's analysis and argued that it merely sidesteps the real problem of evil, which is rooted in the human experience of suffering in a world that contains more pain than pleasure.

Atharī

The Hanbali scholar Ibn Taymiyya, whose writings became influential in Wahhabism, argued that, while God creates human acts, humans are responsible for their deeds as the agents of their acts. He held that divine creation is good from a causal standpoint, as God creates all things for wise purposes. Thus apparent evil is in actuality good in view of its purpose, and pure evil does not exist. This analysis was developed further with practical illustrations by Ibn al-Qayyim.

Alternatives

Jewish anti-theodicy

In 1998, Jewish theologian Zachary Braiterman coined the term anti-theodicy in his book (God) After Auschwitz to describe Jews, both in a biblical and post-Holocaust context, whose response to the problem of evil is protest and refusal to investigate the relationship between God and suffering. An anti-theodicy acts in opposition to a theodicy and places full blame for all experience of evil onto God, but must rise from an individual's belief in and love of God. Anti-theodicy has been likened to Job's protests in the Book of Job. Braiterman wrote that an anti-theodicy rejects the idea that there is a meaningful relationship between God and evil or that God could be justified for the experience of evil.

Levinas

The Holocaust prompted a reconsideration of theodicy in some Jewish circles. French Jewish philosopher Emmanuel Levinas, who had himself been a prisoner of war in Nazi Germany, declared theodicy to be "blasphemous", arguing that it is the "source of all immorality", and demanded that the project of theodicy be ended. Levinas asked whether the idea of absolutism survived after the Holocaust; he proposed it did. He argued that humans are not called to justify God in the face of evil, but to attempt to live godly lives; rather than considering whether God was present during the Holocaust, the duty of humans is to build a world where goodness will prevail.

Professor of theology David R. Blumenthal, in his book Facing the Abusing God, supports the "theology of protest", which he saw as presented in the 1979 play, The Trial of God. He supports the view that survivors of the Holocaust cannot forgive God and so must protest about it. Blumenthal believes that a similar theology is presented in the Book of Job, in which Job does not question God's existence or power, but his morality and justice. Other prominent voices in the Jewish tradition include the Nobel prize winning author Elie Wiesel and Richard L. Rubinstein in his book The Cunning of History.

Menachem Mendel Schneerson

Menachem Mendel Schneerson, the seventh Rebbe of Chabad Lubavitch, sought to elucidate how faith (or trust, emunah) in God defines the full, transcendental preconditions of anti-theodicy. Endorsing the attitude of "holy protest" found in the stories of Job and Jeremiah, but also in those of Abraham (Genesis 18) and Moses (Exodus 33), Rabbi Schneerson argued that a phenomenology of protest, when carried through to its logical limits, reveals a profound conviction in cosmic justice such as is first found in Abraham's question: "Will the Judge of the whole earth not do justice?" (Genesis 18:25). Recalling Kant's 1791 essay on the failure of all theoretical attempts in theodicy, a viable practical theodicy is identified with messianism. This faithful anti-theodicy is worked out in a long letter of 26 April 1965 to Elie Wiesel.

Hannah Arendt offers notable resistance to this trend of anti-theodicy in her works The Origins of Totalitarianism and--more sensationally--in her reporting of the Eichmann trial collected in Eichmann in Jerusalem. Without resorting to transcendental authority, purely by observation, Arendt arrives at a conclusion similar to Saint Augustine's theodicy: She ascribes Adolf Eichmann's evil actions to a lack of empathic imagination and to the thoughtlessness of his conformity to norms of careerism within the Third Reich. She finds a thoughtlessness or total absence of consideration for other perspectives at the center of his behavior. The quality of this lack she describes as "the banality of evil." Arendt did not intend to propose "the banality of evil" as a technical term or fixed nomination by which to describe the void of empathic imagination she observed--it just happened to be a phrase within her description that was appropriated by the reviewing press and by other scholarly responsa. Banality is only a facet or particular quality of her vantage point looking into this emptiness.

Christian alternatives to theodicy

A number of Christian writers oppose theodicies. Todd Billings deems constructing theodicies to be a "destructive practice". In the same vein, Nick Trakakis observes that "theodical discourse can only add to the world's evils, not remove or illuminate them." As an alternative to theodicy, some theologians have advocated "reflection on tragedy" as a more befitting reply to evil. For example, Wendy Farley believes that "a desire for justice" and "anger and pity at suffering" should replace "theodicy's cool justifications of evil". Sarah K. Pinnock opposes abstract theodicies that would legitimize evil and suffering. However, she endorses theodicy discussions in which people ponder God, evil, and suffering from a practical faith perspective.

David Bentley Hart

In an essay for The Hedgehog Review, Eugene McCarraher called David Bentley Hart's 2005 book The Doors of the Sea "a ferocious attack on theodicy in the wake of the previous year's tsunami" (referring to the 2004 tsunami in the Indian Ocean). As Hart says on page 58 of the book: "The principal task of theodicy is to explain why paradise is not a logical possibility." Hart's refusal to concede that theodicy has any positive capacity to explain the purpose of evil is in line with many Greek church fathers. For example, see Eric D. Perl's Theophany: The Neoplatonic Philosophy of Dionysius the Areopagite:

Dionysius' ...refusal to assign a cause to evil, then, marks not the failure but the success of his treatment of the problem. To explain evil, to attribute a cause to it, would necessarily be to explain it away, to deny that evil is genuinely evil at all. For to explain something is to show how it is in some way good. ...Only by not explaining evil, by insisting rather on its radical causelessness, its unintelligibility, can we take evil seriously as evil. This is why most "theodicies" fail precisely insofar as they succeed. To the extent that they satisfactorily account for or make sense of evil, they tacitly or expressly deny that it is evil and show that it is in fact good. Dionysius' treatment of evil, on the other hand, succeeds by failing, recognizing that the sheer negativity that is evil must be uncaused and hence inexplicable, for otherwise it would not be negativity and would not be evil. It has been wisely remarked that any satisfactory account of evil must enable us to retain our outrage at it. Most theodicies fail this test, for in supposedly allowing us to understand evil they justify it and thus take away our outrage. For Dionysius, however, evil remains outrageous precisely because it is irrational, because there is no reason, no justification for it. The privation theory of evil, expressed in a radical form by Dionysius, is not a shallow disregard or denial of the evident evils in the world. It means rather that, confronted with the evils in the world, we can only say that for no reason, and therefore outrageously, the world as we find it does not perfectly love God, the Good, the sole end of all love. And since the Good is the principle of intelligibility and hence of being, to the extent that anything fails to partake of that principle it is deficient in being. The recognition of evils in the world and in ourselves is the recognition that the world and ourselves, as we find them, are less than fully existent because we do not perfectly love God, the Good.

Karl Barth viewed the evil of human suffering as ultimately in the "control of divine providence". Given this view, Barth deemed it impossible for humans to devise a theodicy that establishes "the idea of the goodness of God". For Barth, only the crucifixion could establish the goodness of God. In the crucifixion, God bears and suffers what humanity suffers. This suffering by God Himself makes human theodicies anticlimactic. Barth found a "twofold justification" in the crucifixion: the justification of sinful humanity and "the justification in which God justifies Himself".

Christian Science offers a solution to the problem by denying that evil ultimately exists. Mary Baker Eddy and Mark Twain had some contrasting views on theodicy and suffering, which are well-described by Stephen Gottschalk.

Redemptive suffering, based in Pope John Paul II's theology of the body, embraces suffering as having value in and of itself. Eleonore Stump in Wandering in Darkness uses psychology, narrative and exegesis to demonstrate that redemptive suffering, as found in Thomistic theodicy, can constitute a consistent and cogent defence for the problem of suffering.

Free-will defense

As an alternative to a theodicy, a defense may be offered as a response to the problem of evil. A defense attempts to show that God's existence is not made logically impossible by the existence of evil; it does not need to be true or plausible, merely logically possible. American philosopher Alvin Plantinga offers a free-will defense which argues that human free will sufficiently explains the existence of evil while maintaining that God's existence remains logically possible. He argues that, if God's existence and the existence of evil are to be logically inconsistent, a premise must be provided which, if true, would make them inconsistent; as none has been provided, the existence of God and evil must be consistent. Free will furthers this argument by providing a premise which, in conjunction with the existence of evil, entails that God's existence remains consistent. Opponents have argued this defense is discredited by the existence of non-human related evil such as droughts, tsunamis and malaria.

In his recent book, Evil, Sin and Christian Theism (2022), Andrew Loke develops a Big Picture free-will defense argument arguing that God's justification for allowing suffering is not mainly based on an argument from future benefits but on the very nature of love which involves "allowing humans to exercise their free will in morally significant ways." He employs the Big Picture approach in which "Christian theism provides the big picture and uses a combination of theodicies" in defense of a moderate version of skeptical theism. The Big Picture approach, according to him, helps to put the problem of evil and suffering in perspective of the bigger picture that answers the Big Questions of a worldview such as "What is the greatest good? What is the meaning of life? Where do I come from? Where am I going?" He argues that Christian theism provides the best overall consistent answers to these questions: "the greatest good is to have a right relationship with God, the source of all good. The meaning of life...is to live our lives for the greatest good;...to glorify God and enjoy him..." The bigger picture of a just, all-powerful, and loving God who will ultimately defeat evil serves as the backdrop against which all temporal suffering can obtain a meaningful understanding.

Cosmodicy and anthropodicy

A cosmodicy attempts to justify the fundamental goodness of the universe in the face of evil, and an anthropodicy attempts to justify the fundamental goodness of human nature in the face of the evils produced by humans.

Considering the relationship between theodicy and cosmodicy, Johannes van der Ven argued that the choice between theodicy and cosmodicy is a false dilemma. Philip E. Devenish proposed what he described as "a nuanced view in which theodicy and cosmodicy are rendered complementary, rather than alternative concepts". Theologian J. Matthew Ashley described the relationship between theodicy, cosmodicy and anthropodicy:

In classical terms, this is to broach the problem of theodicy: how to think about God in the face of the presence of suffering in God's creation. After God's dethronement as the subject of history, the question rebounds to the new subject of history: the human being. As a consequence, theodicy becomes anthropodicy – justifications of our faith in humanity as the subject of history, in the face of the suffering that is so inextricably woven into the history that humanity makes.

Essential kenosis

Essential kenosis is a form of process theology (related to "open theism") that allows one to affirm that God is almighty, while simultaneously affirming that God cannot prevent genuine evil. Because out of love God necessarily gives freedom, agency, self-organization, natural processes, and law-like regularities to creation, God cannot override, withdraw, or fail to provide such capacities. Consequently, God is not culpable for failing to prevent genuine evil. The work of Thomas Jay Oord explains this view most fully.

Gijsbert van den Brink effectively refutes any view which says God has restricted his power because of his love saying it creates a "metaphysical dualism", and it would not alleviate God's responsibility for evil because God could have prevented evil by not restricting himself. Van den Brink goes on to elaborate an explanation of power and love within the Trinitarian view which equates power and love, and what he calls "the power of love" as representative of God's involvement in the struggle against evil.

Cloud seeding

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cloud_seeding Cloud seeding can be do...