Is Suffering and Evil Better Explained by Christianity or Naturalism?

Nick Meader
Interfaith Now
Published in
11 min readJun 21, 2023
Photo by Zoe VandeWater on Unsplash

The problem of evil is perhaps the strongest argument against the existence of God.

Going back to Epicurious (3rd century BC), it can be phrased:

1. If an all-powerful, all-good, and all-knowing God exists then evil does not.

2. Evil exists.

3. Therefore an all-powerful, all-good, and all-knowing God does not exist.

However, as the philosopher Eleonore Stump [1]has noted, this argument requires an additional assumption:

There is no morally sufficient reason for God to allow instances of evil.

Since we are not omniscient, it is a high burden to demonstrate God could not have a morally sufficient reason for evil. Therefore, most philosophers consider this argument unsuccessful. For example, Graham Oppy, a leading atheist philosopher, concludes:

I think that it is quite clear that no one has yet produced an argument which shows that our current best partially articulated theistic worldviews are rendered inconsistent by claims about the distribution of evil in our universe.[2]

Atheist philosophers have not abandoned the logical argument, but often favour evidential and emotional arguments for evil. They aim to show theism is less likely given evil and suffering (evidential argument for evil), and the perceived hiddenness or indifference of God (emotional argument for evil).

Good and evil in Christianity

The philosophical literature tends to focus on the argument for evil against a generic version of theism. However, as Stump points out most people do not identify as generic theists:

Most people [theists] are Jews or Christians or Muslims. If we are going to claim that their beliefs are somehow inconsistent, we need to look at a more complete set of Jewish or Muslim or Christian beliefs concerning God’s goodness and evil in the world, not just at that limited subset of such beliefs which are common to all three because what appears inconsistent if we take a partial sampling of beliefs may in fact look consistent when set in the context of a more complete set of beliefs.[3]

Genesis 3 is the first discussion of the problem of evil in the Bible. Genesis 1–2 defines ‘good’ in the context of relationship with a faithful and generous God ending with, “God saw all that he had made, and it was very good” (Genesis 1:31). Love, relationship, and beauty are good because they reflect the goodness of God:

Not only is the man who is an island- Descartes’ isolated cogito — ruled out from creation itself, but this particular differentiation is integral to our correspondence with God and so the very existence of creation.[4]

Adam is also given the responsibility to choose between good (to trust and obey God’s word) and evil (to go his own way):

Whilst it is good to obey God, and evil not to obey God, Adam chose, in disobedience to God, to obtain his own, immediate knowledge of good and evil.[5]

Of course, there remains an important distinction between ‘natural evil’ (like earthquakes or tsunamis a consequence of the ‘fall’) and ‘moral evil’ (such as the violence and abuse common throughout our bloody history). Nonetheless, Genesis 3 places the origin of suffering and evil in human rebellion.

God’s response to evil: his presence, suffering, and victory

The doctrine of the fall explains how evil fits into the Christian story. Yet, we must not stop there. Questions remain:

Cannot God display his power without contradicting his goodness? Cannot God display his name without making little babies suffer pain?…Does the God displayed, then, become less than our God of love?[6]

We do not have complete answers to these and many other questions about evil. Partly this reflects our finitude:

…given the limitlessness of God’s intellect and the finitude of ours, the mysteriousness of evil in our world is just what we might expect; it is reasonable to suppose that we cannot understand why an omniscient and omnipotent entity does what he does.[7]

Yet, the Bible writers do not hide the doubts we all experience. The majority of psalms are complaints addressed to God.[8] Full of questions about the why and how of suffering. Why does God often appear absent when I need him? Why do the wicked prosper? Over and over they bring their troubles to God. For example:

When I tried to understand all this,
it troubled me deeply
till I entered the sanctuary of God;
then I understood their final destiny. (Psalm 73:16–17, NIV)

Suffering and injustice are everywhere. It’s not fair! The Psalmist is comforted by two factors. The presence of God helps us gain perspective:

…the sanctuary of God could refer to the tabernacle or temple, where God made his holy presence known among his people. In other words, the psalmist’s experience of the presence of God calibrated his perspective. He now realized that present realities are not ultimate realities.[9]

Second, there is the promise of the defeat of evil (Psalm 73:17). There will come a time when war and violence will end:

He will judge between the nations
and will settle disputes for many peoples.
They will beat their swords into plowshares
and their spears into pruning hooks.
Nation will not take up sword against nation,
nor will they train for war anymore. (Isaiah 2:4, NIV)

The reformer Martin Luther saw these promises of the defeat of evil and the hope of the new heavens and new earth, fulfilled in Jesus’ death on the cross:[10]

Divine power is revealed in the weakness of the cross, for it is in his apparent defeat at the hands of evil powers and corrupt earthly authorities that Jesus shows his divine power in the conquest of death and of all the powers of evil. So when a Christian talks about divine power, or even about church or Christian power, it is to be conceived of in terms of the cross — power hidden in the form of weakness.[11]

Evidential problem of evil: naturalism

Graham Oppy’s view, in common with many other atheist philosophers, on naturalism and the problem of evil is brief. There isn’t one! If naturalism is true, suffering doesn’t surprise us. An indifferent universe doesn’t care about the needs of conscious beings.

I take it to be obvious on its face that there is no argument from evil that defeats naturalism.[12]

Oppy is partly right. Yet our human capacity for evil and self-destruction also seems counter-intuitive if naturalism is true. The holocaust, or the transatlantic slavery movement, are paradigmatic examples. We can all agree these events resulted in terrible suffering and injustice.

Most of us take a step further –these events were evil and we must prevent them from happening again. This seems more than a personal opinion or preference. Otherwise:

…we would be committed to thinking that if an individual or group of individuals valued genocide, then it would for that very reason be moral. Surely this is wrong-headed. Genocide is wrong for everyone, not just for us and people who share our preferences and attitudes.[13]

The difficulty for naturalists, granted that such moral facts exist (realism), is how to ground these moral facts:

If the notions of suffering and flourishing presuppose objective moral values, then if we accept the foregoing theistic argument from evil, the existence of suffering and flourishing would be highly surprising in a naturalistic worldview — in fact, their existence would be rationally inexplicable.[14]

Moral realism and anti-realism in naturalism

Naturalists can deny the existence of moral facts (anti-realism), leading to the absurdities we identified above. In addition, the reasons for rejecting moral realism likely apply to epistemology with equal force. Leaving us knowing nothing.[15] Most ethicists reject this option.

For moral realists, the challenge is justifying the objectivity of these moral facts on naturalism. For example, we learn that certain actions lead to harm for ourselves and others. However, as noted by David Hume this explanation runs into an is/ought fallacy:

“X brings good consequences” does not logically imply that “X is morally good.” Statements about facts (without presupposed principles of moral evaluation) cannot entail any conclusions about morality. Valueless facts do not imply values. Is does not imply ought.[16]

Similar issue for Christianity?

Frame argues the impersonal standards proposed by naturalists do not generate obligations. Our obligations are to people. For example, as a husband and father, I have a responsibility to take care of my wife and children. Neglecting their needs– whether I feel obligated or not — is wrong.

If moral obligations arise from personal relationships, then absolute obligations arise from absolute personality…Moral standards, therefore, presuppose absolute moral standards, which in turn presupposes the existence of an absolute personality.[17]

The most common response from atheist philosophers, like Graham Oppy, is to argue grounding of morality is also arbitrary on theism.[18] This argument goes back to Plato’s Euthyphro dilemma:

  • Is good ‘whatever God says is good?’ Some argue, if we take this option, God could say lying or robbing our friends is good. Morality becomes arbitrary.
  • Or does ‘God love the good, because it is good?’ If so, then God is unnecessary.

The most common response from Christians is to argue these two questions are complementary. Father, Son, and Spirit have eternally existed in love, faithfulness, humility, generosity and personal relationship. Reality is personal, grounded in God’s goodness.

Deaths of despair — a sign of the emotional problem of evil?

If the emotional problem of evil is only an issue for religious people, this leads to certain testable predictions. For example, if naturalism is consistent with a world of suffering and injustice, then we would expect non-religious people to cope better with such a world. Trying to fit the square peg of the Christian God into the round hole of a suffering world should have emotional consequences.

If so, we would expect naturalists to have a health advantage. But the data point in the opposite direction.

Steven Woolf and Heidi Schoomaker, epidemiologists at Virginia Commonwealth University, showed declines in health have accumulated over decades.

The Centers for Disease Control (CDC) reported that twice as many Americans in 2017 died from alcohol, drugs, or suicide than in 1999. A report for the Brookings Institution labeled these “deaths of despair.” However, religious people are an interesting departure from this trend in Western societies.

For example, Shanshan Li and colleagues from the Harvard T. H. Chan School of Public Health followed up with 74,534 women over 16 years. Their JAMA Internal Medicine paper reported a 26% reduction in the risk of dying over the study duration for those who attended a religious service once a week. The benefits were even higher (33% reduction) among those who attended more than once per week. Meta-analyses (data from studies statistically combined to provide a more precise estimate) found similar results. For example, higher levels of religious participation were associated with an 18% reduced risk of dying during the follow-up period in a meta-analysis of 44 studies.[19]

Tyler VanderWeele, a Harvard professor in epidemiology, found in a literature review religion was associated with 20–30% reduction in incidence rates for depression, and reduction in smoking, alcohol consumption, and illegal drug use.[20]

Isn’t it just the benefits of community?

Of course, most atheists dispute that non-religion is associated with less longevity and greater risk of mental health problems. A common response is to argue these data are explained by the importance of community. Matt Dillahunty, a YouTuber and atheist activist, suggested:

It may be the case that what people need is community, which religions have done a really good job of building, and it’s one of the things that secular organizations are working towards now — building stronger communities.

However, there is scant empirical support for this conclusion. For example, a European study of over 9,000 people found regular social involvement by itself was not associated with health. Only religious-related social involvement was associated with health benefits. Additionally, most epidemiological studies these days statistically adjust for differences in social and community participation. Religious involvement continues to be associated with mental and physical outcomes after these adjustments in most studies.[21]

Suffering and meaning

I’m sure that some (though not all!) health benefits of religious participation are due to belonging to a community. But there are other factors.

The late Pastor Tim Keller argued secular Western culture sees the purpose of life as choosing what makes you most happy. He suggested suffering cannot have a meaningful place in such a worldview. We can only try to avoid the impact of affliction. In contrast, most cultures in history have seen suffering as an inevitable fact of life that can have inherent meaning.

Evidence suggests that these health benefits are not limited to Christianity. But they include Christianity. Most studies are conducted in populations that are overwhelmingly Christian.

According to the reformer Martin Luther, God’s character is primarily revealed in the weakness and suffering of the cross. As Keller observed:

Why should we be surprised…that our lives are filled with darkness and pain. Even God in Christ did not avoid that.[22]

One hurt by the archers

This all sounds very theoretical, an example may help. William Cowper was an 18th-century poet who became a Christian in a psychiatric hospital in St Albans, just outside London and not far from where I grew up.

Anxiety and depression never left him. Cowper’s mental health problems likely explained his isolation from the world, ‘a stricken deer that left the herd’ with only a few faithful friends. Not the story you were expecting? Everyone loves a ‘testimony’, where someone was struggling in pre-Christian days. Then an elaborate change occurs after conversion.

I praise God for those stories, but they are not the full picture. What about those who endure long periods of what feels like meaningless suffering? Cowper’s story is for them. He wrote his most famous poem during one of those periods. For the last 27 years of his life, Cowper never stepped foot in a church partly due to overwhelming anxiety and depression.

The Task is a curious poem, it covers a huge range of reflections on everyday life. Then out of nowhere a striking figure appears, someone who had also ‘been hurt by the archers’:

I was a stricken deer that left the herd
Long since; with many an arrow deep infixt…
There was I found by one who had himself
Been hurt by the archers. In his side he bore,
And in his hands and feet, the cruel scars.
With gentle force soliciting the darts
He drew them forth, and healed and bade me live.[23]

During times of unending suffering, Christians can look to Jesus the one who bore the cruel scars of a slave’s death. Someone familiar with suffering. We can look to the Holy Spirit who helps us in our weakness (Romans 8:26). And we can trust our Father, who will give us all we need:

He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all — how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things? (Romans 8:32, NIV)

References

[1] Stump E. The Problem of Evil. In W Lane Craig, K Meeker, JP Moreland, M Murray and T O’Connor (Eds.) Philosophy of Religion. Edinburgh University Press; 2002

[2] Oppy G. Problems of Evil. In N Trakakis (Ed.) The Problem of Evil: Eight Views in Dialogue. Oxford University Press; 2018

[3] Stump, ibid.

[4] Reeves M. The Glory of God the Christological anthropology of Irenaeus of Lyons and Karl Barth. Unpublished PhD thesis, Kings College London; 2004

[5] Reeves, ibid.

[6] Frame J. Apologetics: A Justification of Christian Belief. P&R Publishing; 2015

[7] Stump, ibid.

[8] Vroegop M. Dark Clouds, Deep Mercy. Crossway; 2019

[9] Longman T. Psalms. IVP; 2014

[10] Although some have argued Luther could have given greater emphasis to Jesus’ resurrection and ascension

[11] Trueman C. Luther’s Theology of the Cross. The Theologian: The Internet Journal for Intergrated Theology. http://www.theologian.org.uk/churchhistory/lutherstheologyofthecross.html#top

[12] Oppy, ibid.

[13] Murray M, Rea M. An Introduction to the Philosophy of Religion. Cambridge University Press; 2008

[14] Tratzakis, Reply. In N Trakakis (Ed.) The Problem of Evil: Eight Views in Dialogue. Oxford University Press; 2018

[15] Metcalf T. Ethical Realism, or Moral Realism. 1000-word Philosophy. https://1000wordphilosophy.com/2015/11/05/ethical-realism/

[16] Frame, ibid.

[17] Frame, ibid.

[18] Oppy, ibid.

[19] Chida Y, Steptoe A, Powell LH. (2009). Religiosity/spirituality and mortality. A systematic quantitative review. Psychotherapy and Psychosomatics 78(2):81–90.

[20] VanderWeele T. Religion and health: a synthesis. In M Balbani and J Peteet (Eds.) Spirituality and Religion Within the Culture of Medicine: From Evidence to Practice. Oxford University Press; 2017

[21] See the Li paper cited above as one example of substantial adjustment for social participation.

[22] Keller T. Walking with God Through Pain and Suffering. Hodder & Stoughton.

[23] Cowper W. The Task, Book III https://www.gutenberg.org/files/3698/3698-h/3698-h.htm

--

--

Nick Meader
Interfaith Now

My background is in psychology, epidemiology and medical statistics. I’m mainly discussing here theology, philosophy of religion and mental health.