Markholley
Nov 7 · 2 min read

I was raised as an atheist, and then converted to Buddhism as a young man, (as wholeheartedly as it was possible for my idealistic self to do.) I considered entering the monastery when I was in my early 20s.

In my middle age, if people ask, I tell them that I’m a recovering Buddhist. Due to my background, I’m probably not as familiar with the majority Christian religion that many in the US believe in as I should be, but the concept of Original Sin and the Problem of Evil are two things that kept me from exploring it overmuch.

I’ve experienced my share of problems. I lost my parents while I was still reasonably young, I was abused, I have an Axis I mental illness. But I was still raised in relative First-World comfort and I have social advantages that some don’t. If whatever god people believe in says “Hey, this guy has had every chance to praise and love and obey me and he’s still over here denying my very existence and I just can’t let that go,” then fine. Fair enough.

But when the same god is giving a giant middle finger to a twelve-year old child soldier or a terminal cancer patient and saying what basically amounts to, “Well, that’s life for you. Your ancestors shouldn’t have listened to that talking snake because that corrupted them and now you get to suffer. I hope you believe in me with your whole being otherwise after this unimaginable pain you’ve got an eternity in an even worse place waiting for you”, that’s when I have an insurmountable problem with that god.

Epicurus put it well enough for us:

“ Is God willing to prevent evil, but not able? Then he is not omnipotent. Is he able, but not willing? Then he is malevolent. Is he both able and willing? Then from whence comes evil?”

Some people add this:

“Is he neither willing nor able to prevent evil? Then why call him God?”

    Markholley

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