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The Problem of Evil

I

The following extract from Camus's novel, The Plague, gives a graphic statement of the problem of evil.
From Albert Camus: The Plague
An Algerian city has been stricken by plague. As a result, it has been sealed off from the outside world, and the inhabitants have been left to fight the plague. Two central characters are Rieux, a doctor, who is also an atheist, and Paneloux, who is a Jesuit priest.

The light on the whitewashed walls was changing from pink to yellow. The first waves of another day of heat were beating on the windows. They hardly heard Grand saying he would come back, as he turned to go. All were waiting. The child, his eyes still closed, seemed to grow a little calmer. His clawlike fingers were feebly plucking at the sides of the bed. Then they rose, scratched at the blanket over his knees, and suddenly he doubled up his limbs, bringing his thighs above his stomach, and remained quite still. For the first time he opened his eyes, and gazed at Rieux, who was standing immediately in front of him. In the small face, rigid as a mask of grayish clay, slowly the lips parted and from them rose a long, incessant scream, hardly varying with his respiration, and filling the ward with a fierce, indignant protest, so little childish that it seemed like a collective voice issuing from all the sufferers there. Rieux clenched his jaws, Tarrou looked away. Rambert went and stood beside Castel, whose closed book was lying on his knees. Paneloux gazed down at the small mouth, fouled with the sordes of the plague and pouring out the angry death-cry that has sounded through the ages of mankind. He sank on to his knees, and all present found it natural to hear him say in a voice hoarse but clearly audible across that nameless, never-ending wail:
      'My God, spare this child ...!'
      But the wail continued without cease and the other sufferers began to grow restless. The patient sat the far end of the ward, whose little broken cries had gone on without a break, now quickened their tempo so that they flowed together in one unbroken cry, while the others' groans grew louder. A gust of sobs swept through the room, drowning Paneloux's prayer, and Rieux, who was still tightly gripping the rail of the bed, shut his eyes, dazed with exhaustion and disgust.
      When he opened them again, Tarrou was at his side.
      'I must go,' Rieux said. 'I can bear to hear them no longer.'
      But then, suddenly, the other sufferers fell silent. And now the doctor grew aware that the child's wail, after weakening more and more, had fluttered out into silence. Round him the groans began again, but more faintly, like a far echo of the flight that now was over. For it was over. Castel had moved round to the other side of the bed and said the end had come. His mouth still gaping, but silent now, the child was lying amongst the tumbled blankets, a small, shrunken form, with the tears still wet on his cheeks.
      Paneloux went up to the bed, and made the sign of benediction. Then gathering up his cassock, he walked out by the passage between the beds.
      'Will you have to start it all over again?' Tarrou asked Castel.
      The old doctor nodded slowly, with a twisted smile.
      'Perhaps. After all, he put up a surprisingly long resistance.'
      Rieux was already on his way out, walking so quickly and with a strange look on his face that Paneloux put out an arm to check him when he was about to pass in the doorway.
      'Come doctor ...' he began.
      Rieux swung round on him fiercely.
      'Ah! That child, anyhow, was innocent — and you know it as well as I do!'
      He strode on, brushing past Paneloux, and walked across the school playground. Sitting on a wooden bench under the dingy, stunted trees, he wiped off the sweat which was beginning to run into his eyes. He felt like shouting imprecations — anything to loosen the stranglehold lashing his heart with steel! Heat was flooding down between the branches of the fig-trees. A white haze, spreading rapidly over the blue of the morning sky, made the air yet more stifling. Rieux lay back wearily on the bench. Gazing up at the ragged branches, the shimmering sky, he slowly got back his breath and fought down his fatigue.
      He heard a voice behind him.
      'Why was there anger in your voice just now? What we'd been seeing was as unbearable to me as it was to you.'
      Rieux turned to Paneloux.
      'I know. I'm sorry. But weariness is a kind of madness. And there are times when the only feeling I have is one of mad revolt.'
      'I understand,' Paneloux said in a low voice. 'That sort of thing is revolting because it passes our human understanding. But perhaps we should love what we cannot understand.'
      Rieux straightened up slowly. He gazed at Paneloux, summoning to his gaze all the strength and fervour he could muster against his weariness. Then he shook his head.
      'No, Father. I've a very different idea of love. And until my dying day I shall refuse to love a scheme of things in which children are put to torture.'
      A shade of disquietude crossed the priest's face. He was silent for a moment. Then, 'Ah, doctor,' he said sadly, 'I've just realized what is meant by “grace”.'
      Rieux had sunk back again on the bench. His lassitude had returned and from its depths he spoke, more gently.
      'It's something I haven't got; that I know. But I'd rather not discuss that with you. We're working side by side for something that unites us- beyond blasphemy and prayers. And it's the only thing that matters.'
      Paneloux sat down beside Rieux. It was obvious that he was deeply moved.
      'Yes, yes,' he said, 'you, too, are working for man's salvation.'       Rieux tried to smile.
      'Salvation's much too big a word for me. I don't aim so high. I'm concerned with man's health; and for me his health comes first.'
      Paneloux seemed to hesitate. 'Doctor...' he began, then fell silent. Down his face, too, sweat was trickling. Murmuring, 'Good-bye for the present,' he rose. His eyes were moist. When he turned to go, Rieux, who had seemed lost in thought, suddenly rose and took a step towards him.
      'Again, please forgive me. I can promise there won't be another outburst of that kind.'
      Paneloux held out his hand, saying regretfully:
      'And yet — I haven't convinced you!'
      'What does it matter? What I hate is death and disease — as you well know. And whether you wish it or not, we're allies, facing them and fighting them together.' Rieux was still holding Paneloux's hand. 'So you see' — but he refrained from meeting the priest's eyes — 'God Himself can't part us now.'

II

1 If God exists then he must be benevolent and omnipotent.
2 A benevolent deity would not tolerate the existence of suffering in the world.
3 An omnipotent god has the power to alter anything
4 But the world is a vale of tears.
5 Therefore, God does not exist.

III

It is as well to give this argument a little independent scrutiny before examining some of the responses to it given by philosophers and theologians. There is a range of responses that the student should be familiar with.
Firstly, it is worth noting that if you do not believe in the existence of God, then the existence of suffering does not pose an intellectual problem. The belief in God introduces some notion of design into one's understanding of the universe, and if the universe does have a design, then the existence of evil seems to pose a problem regarding the morality of the creator. What kind of deity would plan to include evil in his design? But if there is no deity, then “evil” is merely the accidental product of natural forces that operate without regard to the pain of living creatures. The existence of suffering seems to be more consistent with the non-existence of God, than with his existence.
On the other hand, the problem of evil seeks to establish that the existence of suffering is absolutely inconsistent with a certain conception of God as both benevolent and omnipotent. However, it is precisely this claim that we must examine.
It is worth noting, that the argument as stated in section II is valid. That is, the four premises do entail the conclusion. Therefore, if God does exist, then one of the four premises must be false.
One response to the argument is a form of mysticism, by which we here mean only the claim that “God moves in mysterious ways”. It is claimed that since God is ineffable, we mere mortals cannot understand his divine plan. We must take it on trust, as an act of faith, that he is both benevolent and omnipotent, and if we but had the intellect to comprehend the operation of his providence we would understand that suffering is compatible with his goodness.
We cannot absolutely refute mysticism of this kind, and, indeed, this mysticism captures part of the essential nature of any theology that accepts that God is infinite and eternal and that man's relationship to God is one of decided inferiority. That being the case, how can we mere mortals comprehend God, and all that applies to the actions of God on earth? We cannot know him, but we do have to trust him.
This form of mysticism, however, fails to satisfy man's desire for understanding. And suffering, being so intimately connected with our lives, is the sort of thing that we should understand. A pure “I don't know” response leaves the believer very vulnerable to a collapse of faith. Confronted with the suffering of a child dying of bubonic plague, the religious person who has no answer has no defence against the nagging doubts that there is no God at all, and hence the suffering of the child, however, disgusting, is the product of a nature that follows laws that have no regard to the mental states of animals.
We want to understand suffering.
Another response to the problem of evil is to reject the premise that God is omnipotent. Ironically, this leads one into the position of Manichaeism. This asserts that there are two equal forces at work in the universe — one Good and the other Evil — and neither has primacy or supremacy over the other. This was labeled a heresy by the Catholic church during the time of St. Augustine.
The difficulty with the Manichaen defence is that it strips God of one of those fundamental attributes that make him worthy of worship. That we should pray solely for things at are to our advantage is hardly sophisticated prayer; yet, for prayer to be effective we must believe that the recipient has the power to accede to the request, and bring what is asked for to pass, for otherwise, what would be the point of the prayer? If God is not omnipotent, he may not have the power to save you from the machinations of the devil; perhaps worship of the devil might be more effective?
The reply to Manichaeism is that it makes God not worthy of worship.
Yet in some form or other Manichaeism remains a popular response to the problem of evil. The idea of an omnipotent God seems too large for us, especially if we adopt some form of crude anthropomorphism. Then God is seen as an old man sitting in front of a huge device for monitoring all conscious life in the universe. He is simply incapable of watching everything at once, and, therefore, inevitably, in some nooks and crannies of the universe some bad things will come to pass. It is probable that if one wishes to refute Manichaeism then it is essential to reject this image of the workings of the Deity. The manner in which He monitors human activity is not like a person juggling with dinner plates whilst attempting to complete a set of final accounts!
However, a modern form of Manichaeism is the “process theodicy” of David Griffin. In his God, Power and Evil he argues that God is not omnipotent, and that he is limited by the laws of nature, over which he does not have total control. However, God started the creation because it is better to have a world like our own, even if imperfect, than none at all. He attempts to make God worthy of worship by stating that when we suffer he also suffers; he is a “fellow sufferer who understands”. Since God is not omnipotent, there is no guarantee that good will triumph over evil in the end.
Interestingly, this modern form of Manichaeism substitutes the laws of nature for the actions of the devil. Evil is a tendency in nature which operates without regard to human suffering. It is nature, not the devil, over which God has no absolute control. However, the fundamental similarity is that both the classical and modern Manichaeisms deny the omnipotence of God.
The other possibility along the lines of an examination of the first premise is to deny that God is all benevolent — the reply is that such a denial would make God less than morally perfect, and hence make God not worthy of worship. Whichever response we adopt, if we strip God of either his omnipotence or his benevolence or both, we render God not fully worthy of worship. In practice, very few religious people do seek to remove one or both attributes from the object of their worship.
We wish to have a God worthy of our worship.
So the first premise of the problem, that God is both benevolent and omnipotent, seems to capture the essence of our core theological beliefs about God — in fact, it has been called “The God of Classical Theism”.
Looking at the rest of the problem, we might consider the premise that the world is a vale of tears as false. In this case we would deny the reality of evil. However, evil seems very real, and to deny its reality seems as hopeless as trying to persuade someone who has toothache that he is not in pain! Nonetheless, the attempt to deny the reality of evil should not necessarily be dismissed out of hand. Such attempts would be based on attempts to show that time, and hence experiences in time, are not in some crucial sense real. This is an aspect of the idealist philosophy. However, it would not be appropriate to pursue in this context this line of reasoning. Most people will want a more substantive explanation of the presence of evil in life. Once again, to say that evil is not real, however intriguing, does not offer an explanation for the apparent evil that we do endure.
This establishes that premises (1) God is benevolent and omnipotent, (3) An omnipotent god has the power to alter anything and (4) that the world is a vale of tears are legitimate premises. Hence, if there is a problem with the argument, it must lie with premise (2) A benevolent deity would not tolerate the existence of suffering in the world.
The response that is offered against this premise that endeavours to establish that a benevolent deity would tolerate the existence of suffering in the world is called the freewill defence.
In explaining what this defence is, it should be first noted that neither suffering nor pain are, by definition, evil. Indeed suffering, which implies a more psychological and mental condition, can be seen to lie at the very core of the human experience, without which human experience would not have meaning. Religion teaches us that life is a “pilgrimage”, by which we mean that it is a journey in which we may expect some trials and tribulations. These trials, which establish the meaning of our lives, are occasions of suffering. In this sense the core meaning of to suffer is appropriate — it means to endure. Likewise, unless you are a utilitarian (and religious people are not likely to be that) you will not equate pleasure with what is good, pain with what is bad, or evil. To be in pain is to be in pain (!) and that is not pleasant, but it does not follow that the pain is bad or evil. If a dentist operates on my teeth I may feel pain, but it is not exactly true to say that I am the victim of some act of evil — quite the contrary, the actions of the dentist restore the health of my teeth, which is good, and the pain is something that I should endure as part of the process of this taking place.
So it is not true that a benevolent deity would not tolerate the existence of suffering in the world. However, it would be true that a benevolent deity would not tolerate the existence of evil in the world. On the other hand, although evil things do occur, it is not clear that God does tolerate it. The appearances are consistent with either interpretation, and it is a matter of faith that in fact all true goodness is rewarded and all true evil is in some ultimate sense ineffective. What we do know about life is that there is a good deal of suffering in it, but what we do not know is whether this suffering indicates that God tolerates one iota of evil.
It is often claimed that God uses suffering and pain as forms of punishment. Whilst the goodness of a God who creates a universe where some individuals are destined to sin and be punished is debatable, it is not wholly clear that a benevolent God would not punish sin. If happiness is proportionate to morality, then it is also true that unhappiness is proportionate to immorality.
This brings us to the freewill defence. It is in fact claimed that the highest expression of God's goodness is to endow spirits (angles and men) with freewill. This gives them the capacity to choose what to believe and whether to obey or disobey God. It is this freewill that makes man the author of his own destiny. Without it, he might be a creature created by God and destined to enjoy an eternity of pleasure, but he would enjoy this pleasure through no choice of his own; he would not in fact possess a soul.
The question of the morality of punishment devolves on the problem of innocence. If in fact anyone who endures a punishment was innocent, then the punishment would be arbitrary and it would be impossible to reconcile this with the goodness of God (unless, perhaps, if one wanted a recourse to the most extreme mysticism). However, those who believe in freewill tend also to adopt the doctrine of original sin. This states that no man is in fact born innocent — we are all born in a fallen state.
Original sin is usually introduced by means of the story in Genesis regarding the manner in which Adam and Eve ate of the apple. This raises some difficulties. It seems morally outrageous that a son should be punished for the misdemeanors of the father. Why should the descendants of Adam (assuming for a moment that he existed) be regarded as guilty of the sin that Adam committed?
Such an interpretation of the biblical story would be too literal, nor has such a literal interpretation of it ever been popular. When, for example, St. Augustine seeks to atone for his sins through his Confessions of them, he does not blame any part of his sinful nature on his inheritance from Adam. No doubt he believes in Adam, but by being born a man, he accepts that he is born in a fallen state and that he has original sin. In this matter he follows the work of Plato. You are born morally imperfect, and it is this imperfection that accounts for why you live out your life in a world which has suffering in it. The sins that you pile up during your life are premised on the capacity for sin that you had from birth.
No doubt, neither the concept of sin nor the concept of a fallen state, are currently popular. However, the question we are addressing is whether they can be used to provide a coherent response to the problem of evil.
It is usual to distinguish between moral evil and natural evil. By moral evil is meant the evil that is brought into the world through the actions of men and women — for example, the evil of a murder follows on the actions, deliberations and free choices of the murderer. Natural evil encompasses such things as natural disasters — volcanic eruptions and the like. It is usual to accept that moral evil can be explained in terms of freewill, but natural evil cannot. However, the concept of the fallen state, and original sin, does bridge the gap. If we are born fallen then the external world reflects that fallen state. Only if we were wholly innocent would it be morally wrong for us to be born into a world where there is suffering. In short, the essence of the reply to the problem of evil is that in fact no suffering is arbitrary. Although this answer will not be acceptable to some, to those with a strong faith in God's benevolence and omnipotence it is sufficient, and the problem of evil does not prove that God does not exist, even if it does pose the most extreme challenge to a faith in his existence.
Whilst these answers are very austere, they have been embraced by innumerable men and women of strong faith. They are not exclusive to any one religion. A mixture of the freewill defence, the claim that punishment is not incompatible with the goodness of God, and a touch of mysticism — for after all, we cannot claim to fully (or even remotely) comprehend God, should be sufficient to rescue the belief in God from this extreme charge. However, atheists will not be impressed! Nonetheless, atheism is not necessitated by the facts of existence, and appearances are compatible with any number of interpretations.

IV. St. Augustine: Of the commodities and discommodities commonly communicated both to good and ill

from City of God, Chapter VII
Yea but (will some say) Why doth God suffer His mercy to be extended unto the graceless and thankless? Oh! why should we judge, but because it is His work “that maketh the sun to shine daily both on the good and the bad, and the rain to fall both on the just and unjust”? For what though some by meditating upon this, take occasion to reform their enormities with repentance? and other some (as the apostle saith) despairing the richness of God's goodness, and long suffering, in their hardness of heart and impenitency “do lay up unto themselves wrath against the day of wrath, and the revelation of God's just judgment, who will reward each man according to his works”? Nevertheless God's patience still inviteth the wicked unto repentance as this scourge doth instruct the good unto patience. The mercy of God embraceth the good with love, as His severity doth correct the bad with pains. For it seemed good to the almighty Providence to prepare such goods in the world to come, as the just only should enjoy and not the unjust: and such evils as the wicked only should feel, and not the godly. But as for these temporal goods of this world, He hath left them to the common use both of good and bad: that the goods of this world should not be too much desired, because even the wicked do also partake them: and that the evils of this world should not be too cowardly avoided, wherewith the good are sometimes affected. But there is great difference in the use both of that estate in this world, which is called prosperous, and that which is called adverse. For neither do these temporal goods extol a good man, nor do the evil deject him. But the evil man must needs be subject to the punishment of this earthly unhappiness, because he is first corrupted by this earthly happiness: yet in the distributing of these temporal blessings God showeth His provident operation. For if all sin were presently punished, there should be nothing to do at the last judgment: and again, if no sin were here openly punished, the divine providence would not be believed. And so in prosperity, if God should not give competency of worldly and apparent blessings to some that ask them, we would say He hath nothing to do with them: and should He give them to all that ask them, we should think He were not to be served but for them, and so His service should not make us godly, but rather greedy. This being thus, whatever afflliction good men and bad do suffer together in this life, it doth not prove the persons undistinct, because so they both do jointly endure like pains; for as in one fire, gold shineth and chaff smoketh, and as under one flail the straw is bruised, and the ear cleansed; nor is the lees and the oil confused because they are both pressed in one press, so likewise one and the same violence of affliction, proveth, purifieth, and melteth the good, and condemneth, wasteth, and casteth out the bad. And thus in one and the same distress do the wicked offend God by detestation and blasphemy, and the good do glorify Him by praise and prayer. So great is the difference wherein we ponder not what, but how a man suffers his affects. For one and the same motion maketh the mud smell filthily, and the unguent smell most fragrantly.
Summary
Some believe that because bad people prosper in this world, there can be no God. This argument is a fallacy. God's mercy rewards the good and punishes the bad, but this occurs essentially in the afterlife, when the good go to heaven and the bad go to hell. Earthly goods are not the ultimate goods and should not be too much desired. God sends prosperity and adversity to both the good and the bad. But good people are not corrupted by prosperity nor are they dejected by adversity; whereas bad people are. This is the primary expression of God's providence, but God also demonstrates his existence by punishing some sinners on earth and rewarding some good people with prosperity. Nonetheless, the good life is not to be desired for material benefits. God allows the sun to shine equally on both good and bad, so that some bad people may repent; he also demonstrates the justice of his divine retribution, since the manner in which some people abuse God's grace and revel in their sins exonerates God in his punishment of them.

V

A theodicy is a term given to the attempt to justify God's existence when confronted with the problem of evil.
To St. Augustine is attributed the following theodicy.
(1) In his perfection, God made the world without flaws
(2) Evil is not a substance, but a deprivation (an absence of goodness). Therefore, God did not make evil.
(3) Evil originates in the abuse of freewill of angels and men, whose chose, out of pride, to rebel against God.
(4) Evil is possible in the world because the world is capable of change, and anything capable of change is imperfect.
(5) Everyone is guilty because they inherit the sin of Adam.
(6) Everyone deserves to be punished.
(7) Natural evil arose through the fall of man, which introduced natural disorder.
(8) God is right not to prevent suffering.
(9) But in fact, God shows us his mercy by making salvation through Christ possible.
As thus presented Augustine's theodicy is open to a number of objections. For example, Schleiermacher objected that it is not logically possible for a perfectly created world to go wrong, since this would imply that evil has created itself out of nothing, and that is a logical contradiction. It is also claimed that if free beings have the power to choose between good and evil, then they must have been given the knowledge of evil by God. It is also stated that Augustine's reliance on the myth of Genesis and on the idea that the sin of Adam is present in all of us, is contrary to the teachings of modern science that tell us that the world has evolved through survival of the fittest.
Any discussion of Augustine's theodicy will be intricate. His theodicy is not exactly a reply to the problem of evil. His reply to the problem of evil does not require him to establish that evil is not a substance, for instance. He needs only to show us that the apparent prosperity of bad men is possibly an illusion, and he offers a plausible argument in defence of that position, which I have summarized in section IV. It is not possible to state on a cursory glance whether Augustine's theodicy does or does not work.
Likewise, discussion of this theodicy involves one in interpretations of Augustine's work which is decidedly a matter of debate and for “scholars”. For example, I do not agree that Augustine ever intended that a literal interpretation of the inheritance of Adam's sin, and I should say that as Augustine derived the notion of original sin more from the work of Plato than from the Bible, I doubt whether this is what he had in mind. The phrase, “The old Adam” or “the Adam within” traditionally refer to those forces in human nature that we share in common with Adam. In other words, if Adam is fallen because he ate of the apple, and if I am also fallen, it follows that I too have eaten of the apple, but in a metaphorical sense, meaning that my birth into this world reflects my fallen and imperfect state.
It is not necessary to defend the existence of God against the problem of Evil to discuss whether evil is a substance or not, nor whether God created it or not. The question of whether evil is a substance addresses questions that are deep and profound but out of place in an introduction to the problem of evil.
From St. Augustine: Confessions
That evil is not a substance
Anything that is deprived of all goodness, ceases to exist. If anything continues to exist, it must be good: therefore, whatever exists, is good. It follows that the evil that I sought to commit, was not a substance, for if it were a substance [it would exist and hence] it would be good. For it would be either an incorruptible substance, and hence an absolute good, or it would be a corruptible substance, which if it were not good could not be corrupted. Thus it is made most manifest to my perception that everything that Thou [O Lord!] has made is good, and there is no substance whatsoever, that Thou has not made.
This passage occurs within the context of a confession. St. Augustine admits that the evils that he sought to commit were not in any sense positive choices. That is to the say, not choices of one good to the detriment of another. In other words, bad actions pursue illusions of goodness, but not real goodness. If there were any substance in a bad action it would have some goodness. A truly bad action pursues a complete fiction.
It is not necessary to build a metaphysics about the creation of the universe on such a passage. It seems to make perfectly good sense in psychological terms, stating, the things I desired were illusory goods — there was no substance in them. However, this is a matter of interpretation, exegesis and debate.

VI

The theologian Irenaeus (AD c.130-202) also offered a theodicy that contrasts in some respects with that of St. Augustine. He argues that evil is a necessary part of God's divine plan. Through creation he seeks to bring man to perfection, but human perfection can only be developed through free choice, which means that we have the potential to disobey God. It is part of this need to create a world where human beings can be perfected that natural evil was also necessary. Humans abuse their freedom and disobey God, thus introducing evil into the world. God cannot remove this evil by taking away our freedom. However, eventually God will bring all evil and suffering to an end and all will grow towards the likeness of God, and enter into Heaven; thus, evil is always temporary.
Irenaeus attempts to ground his theodicy in the Bible, arguing that the lines in Genesis 1: 26, where God says, “Let us make man in our image, after our likeness”, means that God made men first in his image, and then through time develops them into his likeness — so there is a two-stage process of creation.
There are two central features of this theodicy: (1) that God had to create an imperfect world, populated by imperfect people, and distance himself from it, if he was to create beings that are both free and good. Being human means being free. (2) That God will bring all men to perfection.
One modern supporter of this theodicy is the theologian John Hick, who argues that the goodness that is developed through free choice is necessary; to be “programmed” to love God, without choice, would not be equal goodness. He also claims that God cannot act too decisively in the world but must maintain an “epistemic distance”, for otherwise human beings would be overwhelmed by the knowledge of God's purpose, and they would not obey him out of choice but because they felt that he overlooked their every action. A world in which there was no evil, would be a world in which it is impossible to develop virtues, such as courage, honour and love. God's purpose would not be possible in a world that had no evil and suffering. The world is adapted to the purpose of “soul-making”.
The theodicy of Irenaeus has been criticized for (1) In contradiction to the Bible and Qur'an it promises to bring all to heaven; whereas these texts state that the unrighteous will be punished. It seems unfair that the unjust should go to Heaven; (2) The extent of the suffering experienced in this world could not be necessary for “soul-making”; (3) No amount of suffering could ever be an expression of God's love.
It should be appreciated that the theodicies of both Augustine and Irenaeus attempt to answer other questions in addition to replying to the problem of evil. The problem of evil turns into a refutation of God's existence if, and only if, all of its premises are true (that is, it is accepted here to be otherwise a valid argument). The premise that is most likely to be false, to a believer in God, is the premise that a benevolent deity would not tolerate the existence of suffering in the world. To claim that this premise is at least doubtful, it is not necessary to know whether all souls eventually go to Heaven, or whether there is a permanent “place” called Hell to which some souls are confined for eternity. Both questions seem too large for the human mind and to commit a kind of hubris of trying to know too much. The essence of the freewill defence is that suffering is the expression of God's love.
However, the theodicy of Irenaeus, in trying to do too much, is also in danger of denying the premise that God is omnipotent. If evil is created by God as a necessary feature of a world designed for “soul-making” then God is limited by this “logic” and he is not omnipotent.

VII

There is the objection that an omnipotent God could have created only those beings that freely chose not to commit evil. This objection is put by J.L. Mackie in his essay Evil and omnipotence (in Mind, April 1955)
If there is no logical impossibility in a man's freely choosing the good on one, or on several occasions, there cannot be a logical impossibility in his freely choosing the good on every occasion. God was not, then, faced with a choice between making innocent automata and making beings who, in acting freely, would sometimes go wrong: there was open to him the obviously better possibility of making beings who would act freely but always go right. Clearly, his failure to avail himself of this possibility is inconsistent with his being both omnipotent and wholly good.
Mackie claims that freewill cannot be used as an excuse for the existence of evil.
In the context of a debate in which theologians have sought time and again to reveal to us the backbone of God's plan for the World, Mackie's objection has to be pertinent. However, like those theologians he claims to know too much, and also distracts us from the closer business of a refutation of the problem of evil, which devolves around a discussion of whether a benevolent deity would tolerate suffering.

VIII

It is not clear whether the following extracts offer any new insight into the freewill defence, but it is a good example of modern writing on the matter.
Alvin Plantinga: The Freewill Defence
from Philosophy in America (1965)
The Freewill Defence

First of all, a distinction must be made between moral evil and physical evil. The former, roughly, is the evil which results from human choice or volition; the latter is that which does not. Suffering due to an earthquake, for example, would be a case of physical evil; suffering resulting from human cruelty would be a case of moral evil. This distinction, of course, is not very clear and many questions could be raised about it; but perhaps it is not necessary to deal with these questions here. Given this distinction, the Free Will Defence is usually stated in something like the following way. A world containing creatures who freely perform both good and evil actions — and do more good than evil — is more valuable than a world containing quasi-automata who always do what is right because they are unable to do otherwise. Now God can create free creatures, but he cannot causally or otherwise determine them to do only what is right; for it he does so they do not do what is right freely. To create creatures capable of moral good, therefore, he must create creatures capable of moral evil; but he cannot create the possibility of moral evil and at the same time prohibit its actuality. And as it turned out, some of the free creatures God created exercised their freedom to do what is wrong: hence moral evil. The fact that free creatures sometimes err, however, in no way tells against God's omnipotence or against his goodness; for he could forestall the occurrence of moral evil only by removing the possibility of moral good.

Objection

Now God is said to be omniscient and hence knows, with respect to any person he proposes to create, whether that person would or would not commit morally evil acts. For every person P who in fact performs morally evil actions, there is, evidently, a possible person P' who is exactly like Pin every respect except that P' never performs any evil actions. If God is omnipotent, he could have created these possible persons instead of the persons he in fact did create. And if he is also all-good, he would presumably, have created them, since they differ from the persons he did create only in being morally better than they are.

Reply

1. God is omnipotent, omniscient and all-good
2. God creates some free persons
3. Every possible free person performs at least one wrong action
4. Every actual free person performs at least one wrong action
5. God creates persons who perform morally evil actions

Objection

The existence of physical evil, evil which cannot be ascribed to the free actions of human beings, is inconsistent with the existence of an omniscient, omnipotent and all-good Deity.

Reply

To make this claim, however, is to overlook an important part of traditional theistic belief; it is part of much traditional belief to attribute a good deal of the evil we find to Satan, or to Satan and his cohorts. Satan, so the traditional doctrine goes, is a mighty non-human spirit, who, along with many other angels, was created long before God created men. Unlike most of his colleagues, Satan rebelled against God and has since been creating whatever havoc he could; the result, of course, is physical evil.