By the Rev. Gerald Slusser, Ph.D.

The problem of evil is usually posed like this: "If God is perfectly loving and is all-powerful, how is it that there is evil, especially so much evil, in the world?" This question posed so abstractly here is in life a very existential, living, gnawing problem. The following is an account of the arousal of this question for one person:

"On good and evil, it's interesting that I can think about it and imagine that there is no good or evil in the long run. But then I was walking out the door this morning and my wife had the TV on. They related a horrible story of a man who killed his own seven month old son to get back at his wife for some imagined offence she'd committed two years earlier. The details were so cold and cruel that it actually pulled an involuntary cry from me and feeling of pain in my breast. I can barely think about it. There is no other word for it than evil. Monstrous evil! There was something in me that had an immediate reaction to this event. It was immediate and visceral. There was no thought in it. And it makes me so sad."


Notice two things about this actual experience:

  • First your own horror as you read this so calmly given TV report that doubtless passed on quickly to some other tabloid tale. What is it in us that cannot avoid such a response of horror?
  • Secondly, we not only note this observer’s horror but that "it actually pulled an involuntary cry from me and a feeling of pain in my breast. I can barely think about it . . . There was something in me that had an immediate reaction to this event. It was immediate and visceral. There was no thought in it [the response]. And it makes me so sad."

He was not just intellectually horrified, but morally and physically shocked, left deeply sad.

What is it in us that so responds with horror?



My short answer to this question is that such responses occur because we are in touch with the Divine response to the occurrence. As will be shown later, ultimately human consciousness is intimately connected with the Divine consciousness. Thus God’s horror and pain is also our horror and pain.


If God is good and the creation is good as our Christian tradition teaches, how and why is there such evil? Older theology, Classical Theism, said that what we perceive as evil is not really evil; from an Eternal perspective it is a means to good. Whereas we can sometimes see that this is the case, that good does come out of apparent evil, how can the murder of a seven-month-old child lead to good? Fanciful answers just do not serve us adequately. This "from an eternal perspective all is good" argument seems, ON THE SURFACE, too facile, too wishwashy, to be acceptable. How then deal with the problem? First, see the fallacy in the older reasoning. The basis for it was the assumption that God to be God had to be in absolute control of everything. Total power and total responsibility for every occurrence. This line of thought seems to have been modeled on an imaginative extension of the power of a great king or emperor. A different view is essential to any acceptable attack on the problem. Further, this simple theism confuses God the Creator with God in with and for Godself. This latter is what Eckhart, for example, termed "the Godhead". He goes on to say "God and his Godhead are as different as heaven and earth." Little of modern theology has noted this difference. However, some have, Paul Tillich has spoken of the God beyond God. In his A History of Christian Thought he notes that there are two elements in God. The one is God insofar as he is beyond any difference, beyond subject and object, beyond all categories, beyond all temporal and spatial things, not even essence and existence, being and quality, not functions and acts. But there is also the other element, God as self-giving, the Giver of being, the unity of all forms, the principle of all beauty. Out of love God gives the creation, calls it into being out of nothing. This latter is God the Creator. We will return to these considerations later, for now, realizing the existential nature of the question of evil, what assumptions can we use for a beginning?


Suppose we begin with the idea that God the Creator experiences all evil that there is, but that God is not the author of any evil. How could that be the case? First, this assumption accepts the factuality of evil, without defining it as yet. There are events, which it seems, could have been better otherwise. Today, one might ask would it not have been better had Milosevec (or Hitler) never been born, or at least had died in infancy. Second, this approach affirms without question the goodness of God. We shall see later how this affirmation is also a matter of experience as is the experience and recognition of evil. At the outset, it is useful to see how one or more major contemporary approaches to theology have treated this problem.


Process theology, as John Cobb and David Griffin have discussed it, makes three important distinctions between Divine responsibility and blameworthiness. First, God’s power is not exerted by coercion, but by persuasiveness and suggestion. This difference is based on the realization, the insight that choices are made about events of the world in their very beginning. Further, it is the insight of A. N. Whitehead, the philosopher whose metaphysical thought Cobb and Griffin are following, that such choices are not by any means reserved for the human level. Whitehead rejects the common notion of non-sentient material substance, bits of material "stuff", as the ultimately real, and suggests instead that the primary nature of reality is experience, a pulse of experience being the smallest "bit" of reality. The complete experience of an entity is "nothing other than what the actual entity is in itself, for itself". It is important here to be aware that Whitehead did not mean that experience equated with consciousness in any sense of that word. The experience of an actual occasion, as he termed the simplest form of existence, is termed prehension. Prehension is not conscious, not intentional, not an interpretation, does not involve thought or words. One might term it mere registration. Secondly, the Divine intention provides, at the genesis of each moment of experience, of each actual entity, a "vision" of its best possibility for being. However, the becoming event itself may or may not "choose" to realize this ideal possibility; it may choose instead to deviate from the proffered ideal. Thus evil is not necessary, but does occur. Choosing anything less than the ideal is less good than was possible and in that measure is evil.


The second notion suggested by Cobb and Griffin is that there are two kinds of experience that may be termed evil. The one is triviality and the other is discord. By triviality is meant the failure to achieve the maximum harmony and beauty of novelty and contrast that were possible. Thus triviality may be of small consequence in the larger scheme of things, but it is a form of evil, a missed opportunity. Not everything that is trivial is to be considered evil. Consider the idle moment when one is enjoying a bite of chocolate. In the larger scheme, it is trivial, but it is not evil; in fact it can be considered good because it provides a moment of joy and harmony.


The second form of evil, discord, is another matter. By discord is meant physical or mental suffering whether of a person or a gnat. It is evil because it precludes the maximization of enjoyment, harmony, and beauty in contrast. (It is necessary to say "beauty in contrast and with novelty" as an adjunct to harmony because harmony alone can be sterile and thus trivial in a negative sense.) But discord is always unharmonious and destructive in one degree or another. Thus we have a definition of good as the maximization of enjoyment and beauty in each particular coming to be of a moment of experience. (Individuals, of course, may not enjoy, in the sense of taking pleasure in, that which is in fact good, even though in the long run they may see the goodness of the event.) In this context not only discord, but also unnecessary and useless triviality are morally evil. The morally good is not merely the abstention from discord and triviality, but requires the creation, the promotion of worthwhile experience at every level of existence, for "all things great and small". Thus failure to create, to promote worthwhile experience is a moral evil either of a qualitative or quantitative nature.


With this insight in view, "God’s loving purpose must not be thought of as merely the avoidance of discord. To have left the finite realm in chaos when it could have been stimulated to become a world, would itself have been to acquiesce in unnecessary triviality." The initial aim given by a loving God to each becoming actual entity must have the intent of overcoming triviality and avoiding discord. As noted above, the aim must be for the maximization of enjoyment as the realization of novelty and harmony. Further, every realization of such novelty and harmony (which is beauty) cannot be a mere repetition of a previous experience because the mere repetition has no novelty. Actually, mere exact repetition is probably impossible. As the ancient Greek philosopher observed "you cannot step into the same river twice". "In other words the aim is for the perfection for experience. Perfection is the maximal harmonious intensity that is possible for a creature, given its context. The more variety and hence intensity there is, the greater the possibilities for disharmony. But this is a necessary risk, if there is to be a chance for the perfection of experience to be attained."


The third major point elaborated by Cobb and Griffin is this: There is a correlation between several dimensions of experience, namely: 1) the capacity for realizing, for experiencing good; 2) the capacity for realizing, experiencing evil; 3) the capacity for instrumental good or evil, i.e., being an instrument of good or evil to others, and finally 4) the power of self-determination. This correlation is a necessary one and not dependent on either the choice of the becoming experience or that of God. Why is this the case? If there is to be any world, any meaningful world, it cannot have a mere puppet-like existence, i.e., be a mechanical world. (Unfortunately, this mechanical world is the view of materialistic scientism and strips all meaning from life.) Secondly, it is the increased complexity between novelty and harmony that makes for greater enjoyment, but also for the possibility of discord hence greater suffering. Greater complexity overcomes triviality, but does not guarantee bliss. Here one can also see the need for the existence of beings of greater sensitivity and consciousness in order to appreciate the more complex beauty. This is good and it further increases the appreciation one has for the goodness experienced by others. Yet this very sensitivity/consciousness may make the greater suffering so intense that the increased consciousness feels more like curse than a blessing. Recall Job’s moaning wish that he had never been born. This greater sensitivity also extends to the appropriation of the suffering of others that is likewise painful. In such cases one may choose some form of narcosis to blot out the pain. This is effectively the choice of harmony over intensity and regression to a more trivial form of existence to avert discord.


However, as Cobb and Griffin note, there is another positive note to increased sensitivity. There is a correlation between the ability to experience good and the ability to do good (instrumental good). An increase in consciousness makes possible greater ability to choose and to affect one’s world. Humans thus have an ability to make far greater contribution to the world than do the so-called lower animals. Unfortunately, this contribution may be for ill as well as for good; the capacity for instrumental good correlates with the capacity for instrumental evil. The recent history of humans records an ever-increasing destructive capacity not only for other humans, but also for the environment. Currently the world appears to be headed for an ecological disaster more destructive than the ice ages and all due to human overpopulation and pollution. Nonetheless, it must be realized that such danger is inherent in the increased consciousness represented by the application of that consciousness to human desires. The essence of the problem seems to lie in the nature of human desires that are primarily focussed on "me", ego aggrandizement, self-interest. It is our choices that make the difference and to date our choices have not been overly wise.


The greater the consciousness and consequent freedom the greater the capacity for good and for evil. Sub-human consciousnesses, for example that of ordinary animals, are mostly conformed to their inherited instincts; they have little or no possibility of making what might be termed choices based on self-interest or desire. It is said, for example, that the shark has not changed for a million years (with the exception of those sharks who have learned to live in fresh water in Nicaragua). With regard to the ability of an organism to respond to the initial aim given by God for its formation, the higher the consciousness the higher the ability to disregard that aim and choose for self-interest. Now, if it be the intent of God that the world achieve maximum enjoyment/beauty, then the initial aim will be directed toward increased consciousness in order to appreciate that enjoyment/beauty but also to create it. Correlated with this increased consciousness will necessarily be an increased ability to disregard the initial aim and choose instead a course that will bring greater triviality or discord as dictated by self-interest.


Cobb and Griffin make an interesting point here. "This increased capacity for self-determination is part of the increased capacity for intrinsic and instrumental good and evil, since increased freedom means the capacity to synthesize the data from one’s environment in a disharmonious way. Hence, even if the environment in which we find ourselves is not objectively negative, we can make ourselves miserable. And we can form ourselves in such a way as to make ourselves objectively destructive elements in the environment of others. We can even do this deliberately which is the essence of moral evil. Hence, increasing the freedom of the creatures was a risky business on God’s part. But it was a necessary risk if there was to be the chance for greatness."


Many theologies have seized upon the fact of freedom of choice as the principle cause of evil in the world. Their point is that freedom is such a great good that God gave up part of His omnipotence in order to allow it. Yet there seems to lurk in this line of thought, or in its train, some doubt that freedom is such a great good that it is necessary to allow creatures of such unimaginable evil as a Hitler and his hordes of followers. Couldn’t God have created beings who thought themselves free, but were in fact incapable of intentional instrumental evil? The problem here say Cobb and Griffin, is that the premise that there could be beings in all respects like ourselves, except incapable of intentional instrumental evil, in fact means that they would not be truly free. Their freedom would be an illusion. It is not merely because of the goodness of freedom that God brought about such beings as ourselves, but because only such beings can be capable of the values we enjoy. The ability to appreciate the values entails the ability to make wrong choices, to bring evil into the world. Thus, in this respect, it must be said that God is in some measure responsible for the existence of evil in the world, the evil of discord. This line of thought of course is built on the notion that God has lead the world toward this higher and more sensitive and hence more powerful consciousness which humans have. In the final analysis, say Cobb and Griffin, "the question as to whether God is indictable for the world’s evil reduces to the question as to whether the positive values enjoyed by the higher forms of actuality are worth the risk of the negative values, the sufferings." The way one answers this question, they suggest, is dependent on one’s feeling about the value of overcoming unnecessary triviality as compared to avoiding discord. Is drabness a worthwhile price to be paid for avoiding a measure of suffering?


Obviously individuals answer this question in different ways. Some choose drabness, even narcosis, to avoid suffering. Others seem to bear suffering willingly in order to experience novelty, creativity. Some minimize their risks of pain by reducing their relationships in quality and quantity seemingly thinking, "if I do not love I will not be hurt". Some harden their hearts in order to avoid seeing the suffering in the world. These various ways of avoidance are choices for triviality in order to avoid suffering and pain. The view of Process Theology is that God is a great Adventurer who enjoys all enjoyments, but also suffers all sufferings, willingly choosing the risk in order to have the shot at experiencing the joy, the beauty, the novelty. Further, say Cobb and Griffin, "There could not be beings who would be like us in all respects-i.e., who could enjoy the kinds of values we enjoy, but who could not really be free. Hence God did not bring about creatures such as us, [but] without our great capacity for discordant self-determination and destructive instrumental value . . .because beings capable of the values we enjoy must necessarily have these other capacities."


Process theology is by no means the only attempt to answer the problem of evil, beyond the received, or classical, Christian theism, while affirming the goodness of God. Another recent attempt is represented in the thought of John MacQuarrie, the eminent Scottish theologian, lately the Lady Margaret Professor of Divinity at Oxford. Christian theology has employed two models to explain or describe the nature of God’s creative activity. These two models are "making" and "emanation". The "making" model is the more traditional of the two. It easily slides over into the deistic formula where God is the absentee clockmaker. MacQuarrie critiques this model as being defective because it represents the relation between Being and the beings as between things, and it fails to express the notion that creation is not from something, but ex nihilo. This model stresses the transcendence of God who makes the world, as in the descriptions in Genesis. The second model, that of emanation, can be compared with the sun sending forth its rays. It is complementary to the Maker model, (which is the more typical Biblical model) and suggests the immanence of God in Creation. It also avoids the notion that God’s creativity activity is simply whimsical or unintentional. MacQuarrie argues that it is necessary to combine both of these in order to get a more useful metaphor. However one cares to speak about it, it seems necessary to preserve both the notions of transcendence and that of immanence, the notions of intention and of participation.


In dealing with the problem of evil, MacQuarrie sees the creative activity as an ordered movement into ever fuller and richer kinds of being. (Note the similarity to Process thought.) At the same time, he wishes to reject any notion of progress, some kind of automatic mechanism which guarantees that things, historical things especially, will go on getting better and better. He feels that we know entirely too little about history to undertake any such evaluation, which would be speculative at best. Thus, belief in providence or faith in providence is not founded upon historical analysis, but upon trust and loyalty to God, Being as gracious (i.e. loving and giving) to all its creatures. Such a belief, MacQuarrie indicates, is founded existentially. It comes about through happenings, life experiences that increase and strengthen our being, not particularly because of our efforts, but sometimes even in spite of our efforts. He cites as a clear and early statement of the belief in Providence, the story of Joseph. This story points to events that, despite the intention of the human agents, turn out to be for the good for everyone. MacQuarrie sums up the belief in providence this way, "this belief asserts a direction in events, a direction which we can sometimes know as grace as we move with it, sometimes as judgment when we go against it; and this direction is toward ever fuller being." Thus there is dialectic in Providence between grace and judgment and every event must be seen as including both possibilities. The essence here is a faith and trust in God, a "knowledge" that no matter how things seem, all is well. As Dame Julian of Norwich said: "It behoved that there should be sin; but all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well". The story of Joseph is so ancient that it has the character of legend; but there are other, more existential ways in which such profound trust can arise.


Here it is useful to cite a story related by J. Krishnamurti that is more contemporary and, I believe not extremely uncommon except in its intensity. It is termed an experience of bliss by Krishnamurti, but also may be termed an experience of ecstasy, unity, or a unitive experience. A man came to Krishnamurti with this story:


I awoke one morning very early; the city was still asleep and its murmur had not yet begun. I felt I had to get out, so I dressed quickly and went down to the street. Even the milk truck was not yet on its rounds. It was early spring, and the sky was pale blue. I had a strong feeling that I should go to the park, a mile or so away. From the moment I came out of my front door I had strange feeling of lightness, as though I were walking on air. The building opposite, a drab block of flats had lost its ugliness; the very bricks were alive and clear. Every little object, which ordinarily I would never have noticed, seemed to have an extraordinary quality of its own, and strangely, everything seemed to be a part of me. Nothing was separate from em; in fact the ‘me’ as the observer, the perceiver, was absent, if you know what I mean. There was no ‘me’ separate from that tree, or from that paper in the gutter, or from the birds that were calling to each other. It was a state of consciousness that I had never known.


On the way to the park there is a flower shop. . .on this particular morning I stopped in front of it. As I stood looking at [the flowers on display] I found myself smiling and laughing with a joy I had never before experienced. Those flowers were speaking to me, and I was speaking to them; I was among them, and they were part of me. . . .Everything was alive, and I loved everything. I was the scent of those flowers, but there was no ‘me’ to smell the flowers, if you know what I mean. There was no separation between them and me. That flower-shop was fantastically alive with colors, and the beauty of it all must have been stunning, for time and its measurement had ceased. I must have stood there for over twenty minutes, but I assure you there was no sense of time. I could hardly tear myself away from those flowers . . . There was a Presence-no, not that word. It was as though the earth, with everything in it, and on it, was in a state of benediction and I was part of it.


This experience went on for over an hour and the man was virtually stunned by it for a week, in fact was telling Krishnamurti about it two years later, asking what he might do to get it back. He had been filled with ecstasy beyond measure, with incredible joy and now wanted it again, or even as a perpetual state. Krishnamurti’s reply to his request is of major importance to our thought. The experience "came to you uninvited. You never sought it. As long as you are seeking it, you will never have it. The very desire to live again in that ecstatic state is preventing the new, the fresh experience of bliss. . . Greed even for the sublime, breeds sorrow . . . It is not a reward, a result. It comes when it will; do not seek it."


My point in narrating this experience, which I do not believe is common, but as a type is not truly uncommon, is that such existential experiences are insights into the true nature of things. More commonly one will experience a shorter period, perhaps only a minute or two of bliss, or unity, but discount it as a mental aberration, a passing imaginary feeling. My argument is that these moments are insights into our true identity, our unity with God.


An additional note of importance is the danger of confusing providence with fate. This confusion arises when a belief that begins in existential conviction, that is in faith, or in the kind of experience noted, is projected into the world as a metaphysical system. Such a metaphysical system is equivalent to determinism in which everything is determined in advance. Unfortunately, the great theologian, John Calvin, who has been so important in Protestant history, slipped into this error. He claimed "that not a drop of rain falls without the express command of God". He even asserts that human actions merely carry out what God has previously determined. If this were the case it would make nonsense of any belief in human responsibility and thus it must be rejected. The notion that freedom is a real aspect of human existence and that it carries risk must be upheld.


Now, specifically, can one really believe in Providence in a universe that seems to include so much that is evil? Is Being itself gracious, loving, caring, giving to all of its creatures? In his previous discussions, MacQuarrie has begun with the existential level of human experience and then proceeded to consider those levels that we know only from the outside. But in concerning evil, he proposes to use a different approach because evil is not a positive phenomenon, which could be considered in a higher manifestation, as with human beings, before turning to its lower forms. He sees evil as a reversal of the positive affirmative tendency toward Being, a reversal of the very creative act of letting be. He states "there is no higher evil that manifests more being as distinct from a lower evil that manifests less." The essence of evil is negative and destructive and is the enemy of all being. At this point, he also rejects any ultimate dualism. That is, the dualism that is typically set up between God and the devil, for example. He admits a kind of dualism between being and nothingness but notes that that is not an ultimate dualism, since we do not have two positive principles opposed to each other.


In trying to understand the problem of evil we must face the fact that when we view actual human life, we see disorder in that existence. This disorder which may be viewed as an imbalance can go in either of two directions. The one direction being the individual or social indulgence involving the classic sins of pride, anger, envy, etc., and tyranny or utopianism with their variations. Societies seem to share in the same disorders as do individuals. To these we must add simple individualism with its egomania. All these in various ways are attempts to rise above the limitations of human existence, to be superhuman, and to do so in ways that are impossible because they ignore the fact of our finitude.


The second form of imbalance is that of sensual indulgence, insensitivity to others, despair or the irresponsible forms of collectivism. These latter types represent a retreat from responsibility, from decision-making and even from rationality. They represent attempts to control by setting up a set of rules and regulations that will guarantee that everything works properly. These are choices for harmony at the cost of beauty and diversity.


The second form of imbalance is that of sensual indulgence, insensitivity to others, despair or the irresponsible forms of collectivism. These latter types represent a retreat from responsibility, from decision-making and evenfrom decision-making and even from rationality. They represent attempts to control by setting up a set of rules and regulations that will guarantee that everything works properly. These are choices for harmony at the cost of beauty and diversity.


These observations lead to consideration of the motif of "sin" as it has been classically termed in Christian thought. The term "sin", which means a turning away or falling away from our proper possibilities and responsibilities, are all forms of alienation. This term "alienation" comes from the existentialist thought expressed clearly in the work of Paul Tillich, for example. Tillich argues that the basic alienation is really from one’s self in the full range of one’s possibility and actuality. This alienation leads also to separation from others, other humans and other aspects of the creation. It also, of course, leads to alienation from one's deeper self, from one’s true being. And with this latter note, we recognize that all alienation is alienation from the Divine. Christian thought rather uniformly agrees that this problem is universal. This human disorder is within the human situation and within that human situation there is no remedy and thus we must look for something outside, beyond humanity for a solution.


It is helpful here to introduce the word idolatry. Idolatry is not merely some kind of mistaken belief. It always includes a kind of commitment. It is an act of faith. Very simply, idolatry is faith and trust in that which is not truly God. Within the spiritual tradition, the term sin is not often used; however, one may equate sin and idolatry with what in spirituality are termed attachments. An attachment should be viewed as faith and trust in that which is not God. When attachments are of a collective nature, then we may speak of society as a whole. Civilizations have always encouraged worldliness. Perhaps very early in human history, society was organized only to deal with the issues of food and shelter, but these all too soon succumbed to the lure of power, prestige, wealth whether of goods or wives. And whether this worldliness takes the form of individualism or collectivism or simply the mindlessness of "the man in the gray flannel suit", it ends up being the same problem, basically alienation from the Divine.


Here we have been emphasizing the human situation mostly resulting from human conscious choices. At the same time, however, we must look at what one might term natural evil. In the earlier discussion of process thought, it was noted that in the process of creation risk is entailed. This risk MacQuarrie characterizes as the risk of nonbeing. He notes that what constitutes a particular or finite being is the very fact that it is determinate; and whatever is determinate is what it is just insofar as it is not anything else. This means that every determined thing is deprived of certain other characteristics. Thus creation is the going out of Being into nothing and the acceptance by Being of the limitations of these determinant characteristics. Thus the risk that God takes in going out and giving His being to the creation is the risk, the threat of nothingness, the risk that being may be dissolved in nothing. On the other hand, as MacQuarrie notes "the more love (letting be) exposes itself in risk, the more it accomplishes conferring being and, indeed, in calling the beings out of nothing."


As may be seen from the above discussion there are considerable similarities in these two modern theological discussions of the problem of evil. Both note what MacQuarrie terms the dipolar nature of God, i.e., God as "the God Beyond God" or God as Absolute and Transcendent, but secondly God as immanent, God the Creator and Source who not only creates but experiences the creation. Evil for each system has a dual nature. For one it is triviality and discord, for the other evil is the disorder brought about by the personal choices resulting from envy, greed, etc., and the disorder brought about by trying to guarantee order and safety, in other words settling for harmony instead of risking for beauty and novelty. For both evil is a risk that emerges in the creation of a universe in which there is freedom of choice, real freedom by the creatures at all levels. Both feel that the risk is worth the reward which is the continued creation of beauty, novelty, a meaningful universe of joy and excitement. Can we then say that these thoughts solve the problem of evil? In the final analysis, whereas these insights provide a support for faith, they do not solve rationally the problem of evil. We must face the facts that not only are God and God’s ways beyond our ability to comprehend, but that evil is even more mysterious, if that be possible. But for those who have had the experience of bliss, as described above, it is an assurance that there is finally but one Consciousness who is not only above all, but also in all. As the Hindu-Buddhist tradition as put it "Thou art That"; your true identity is the One Consciousness. It is that One Consciousness that is realized in the state here called bliss. In that state there is no doubt, because there is no self to doubt or question and no attachments to bind one to suffering. At first blush, this "oneness" with God seems foreign to Christian thought, but then we recall those amazing words of Jesus in John 14:20 "I am in my father, and you in me, and I in you". Or the words of St. Paul from whom the church has taken so much of its theology, and who touched on this realization of Jesus, but never said it so boldly: "it is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me", or his equally important "God is at work in you both to will and to work". In this realization there is and remains existential assurance which perseveres above all the questions about evil. There is no final, rational solution to the existential problem of evil, but its pain, its suffering, are transcended through the experience of bliss, the faith that arises and is maintained by such an experience. It is thus that one can know "the peace which passes understanding".




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