SeniorSeeker
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Further Thought:
Last Sabbath’s introduction began with Albert Camus, who wrote a lot about his struggle for answers, not just to the question of suffering but to the question of life’s meaning in general, which suffering made only more problematic. As with most atheists, he didn’t make much headway. His most famous quote shows how little: “There is but one truly serious philosophical problem, and that is suicide. Judging whether life is or is not worth living amounts to answering the fundamental question of philosophy.”—The Myth of Sisyphus and Other Essays (New York: Vintage Books, 1955), p. 3. For sure, the question of human suffering is not an easy one to answer. The book of Job pulls back a veil and shows us a bigger picture than what we might have seen otherwise, but even when we read it all, the book still leaves many questions unanswered.
There is, however, a crucial difference between those who struggle for answers to the question of suffering without God and those who do so with God. Yes, the problem of pain and suffering becomes more difficult when you believe in the existence of God, because of the inevitable problems His existence in the face of evil and pain bring. On the other hand, we have what atheists such as Camus don’t have—and that is the prospect of answer and of resolution. (There is evidence that Camus later in life had wanted to be baptized but he was soon killed in a car accident.) We have the hope that “God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away” (Rev. 21:4). Even if someone didn’t believe this promise or many of the others in the Bible, that person would have to admit, if nothing else, how much nicer life would be now to have at least that hope as opposed to the prospect of just living here amid our toils and struggles and then dying forever, with it all meaning nothing.
Question:
One argument that people bring up in regard to the question of evil is the idea that, Well, yes, there is evil in the world, but there is also good, and the good outweighs the evil. The first question would be, How does one know that the good outweighs the evil? How does one make that comparison? The second question would be, Even if true, what good would that idea do for Job (or others) amid their suffering?
German philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer used a powerful example to debunk that whole notion of some sort of balance between good and evil in this world now. “The pleasure in this world,” he wrote, “it has been said, outweighs the pain; or, at any rate, there is an even balance between the two. If the reader wishes to see shortly whether this statement is true, let him compare the respective feelings of two animals, one of which is engaged in eating the other.” How would you respond to the idea that good somehow balances out the evil?
Last Sabbath’s introduction began with Albert Camus, who wrote a lot about his struggle for answers, not just to the question of suffering but to the question of life’s meaning in general, which suffering made only more problematic. As with most atheists, he didn’t make much headway. His most famous quote shows how little: “There is but one truly serious philosophical problem, and that is suicide. Judging whether life is or is not worth living amounts to answering the fundamental question of philosophy.”—The Myth of Sisyphus and Other Essays (New York: Vintage Books, 1955), p. 3. For sure, the question of human suffering is not an easy one to answer. The book of Job pulls back a veil and shows us a bigger picture than what we might have seen otherwise, but even when we read it all, the book still leaves many questions unanswered.
There is, however, a crucial difference between those who struggle for answers to the question of suffering without God and those who do so with God. Yes, the problem of pain and suffering becomes more difficult when you believe in the existence of God, because of the inevitable problems His existence in the face of evil and pain bring. On the other hand, we have what atheists such as Camus don’t have—and that is the prospect of answer and of resolution. (There is evidence that Camus later in life had wanted to be baptized but he was soon killed in a car accident.) We have the hope that “God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away” (Rev. 21:4). Even if someone didn’t believe this promise or many of the others in the Bible, that person would have to admit, if nothing else, how much nicer life would be now to have at least that hope as opposed to the prospect of just living here amid our toils and struggles and then dying forever, with it all meaning nothing.
Question:
One argument that people bring up in regard to the question of evil is the idea that, Well, yes, there is evil in the world, but there is also good, and the good outweighs the evil. The first question would be, How does one know that the good outweighs the evil? How does one make that comparison? The second question would be, Even if true, what good would that idea do for Job (or others) amid their suffering?
German philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer used a powerful example to debunk that whole notion of some sort of balance between good and evil in this world now. “The pleasure in this world,” he wrote, “it has been said, outweighs the pain; or, at any rate, there is an even balance between the two. If the reader wishes to see shortly whether this statement is true, let him compare the respective feelings of two animals, one of which is engaged in eating the other.” How would you respond to the idea that good somehow balances out the evil?