(Revised June 4, 2026)
No
single factor is invoked more often in people turning away
from God, or in
their failing to believe in Him, than the occurrence — note
that I do not say the “existence” of evil, especially as it
manifests itself in suffering.
The occurrence — not the
existence — of evil appears incompatible with God, or at
least a coherent conception of God as both — and
simultaneously — absolutely good and absolutely powerful.
That God and the occurrence of evil should coexist appears
logically contradictory and ontologically incompatible. The
one is effectively the abrogation of the other. The
existence of God, it is argued, precludes (or ought to
preclude) the occurrence of evil, and the occurrence of evil
precludes (or ought to preclude) the existence of God.
While we can readily
adduce empirical evidence, that is to say, tangible
instances, of evil to discredit the existence of God, the
availability of evidence to corroborate the existence of
God, on the other hand, is so exiguous that even when such
instances are invoked, they are deemed extraordinary events
in the affairs of men; indeed, events so far from
commonplace that we call them miraculous — that is to say,
inexplicable interventions conditionally attributed to God
in the absence of alternate explanations that may yet be
forthcoming. Whether or not this is a sufficient, if
concise, summary, the general implication is clear: evidence
of evil overwhelmingly exceeds evidence of God. If sheer
preponderance is the criterion to which we appeal, God
loses.
Evil comes as a scandal to
the believer who asks, “How can this be, given the existence
of God?
To the disbeliever no
such scandal arises — only scorn for the believer who is
left in perplexity, unable to deny the existence of God on
the one hand … while equally unable to deny the occurrence
of evil on the other.
We appear to be consigned
to either nihilistic resignation in the one camp
(understanding evil as somehow ontologically inherent and
rampant in the universe …. although we cannot explain why),
or an unreasoned and therefore untenable affirmation
of the existence of God — despite the contradictory concurrence
of evil — in the other. Both appear to be damned to
perplexity.
Neither has satisfactorily
answered the question implicit within every occurrence of
evil:
“Why?”
The Problem ... and why we must respond to it
Before we begin our attempt to
arrive at an answer to the problem of evil, we must first
clearly summarize and completely understand the nature of
the problem itself.
While this may appear
obvious, all too often our efforts to make sense of the
experience of evil in our lives and in the world fail to
adequately address implicit or unstated premises apart from
which no answer is either forthcoming or possible.
Failing to follow the
premises, we fail to reach a conclusion. Instead, we
reflexively seize what is incontrovertible (the occurrences
of evil) and … understanding nothing of its antecedents,
satisfy ourselves that it is entirely a mystery — in other
words, utterly incomprehensible to us — in fact, so opaque to
our ability to reason it through (which we do not) that we
throw up our hands in either frustration or despair …
declaring that either it is the will of God in a way that we
do not understand, or that there can be no God in light of
the enormities that we experience.
In either case — whether
we affirm that God exists despite them, or deny that He
exists because of them — we confront the experience of evil
as an impenetrable mystery. Such a facile answer, I suggest,
is not a satisfactory state of affairs at all.
Antecedents
We can only speculate upon the
pre-Adamic origin of evil.
That evil preceded
the creation of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Paradise is
clear. However, we are given no explanation of the genesis
of evil as it predated the creation of man. We only know
that it had already manifested itself in the Garden — as
something already extrinsic to it and antagonistic toward
it. That is to say, in the Creation Narrative, we encounter
from the outset the parallel existence of the serpent
(a personification of evil) with man prior to the Fall.
I say parallel because
the serpent possesses a supernatural existence
parallel to and contemporaneous with, the created nature of
man, much in the way that the supernatural being of Angels
coexists with the natural being of men.
While we are unable to
explain evil prior to the creation of man (simply
because no narrative exists to which we can appeal apart
from one utterance of Christ in Saint Luke 10.18: “I saw
Satan like lightning falling from heaven”), we are not,
however, for this reason absolved from explaining not only
how evil came to obtrude upon the affairs of men, but why it
is not incompatible with our conception of God as all-good
and all-powerful.
Philosophy calls this endeavor
a theodicy. We needn’t be intimidated by this, nor think
ourselves unequal to it, as we shall see.
To further compound the
issue, the problem is no mere academic matter from which we
can stand aloof as so many theorists to hypothetical
abstractions. It is a problem that vexes us, and lacerates
us at every turn, believer, and unbeliever alike. It has a
direct and painful bearing upon us; it affects us, afflicts
us, and, yes, sometimes crushes us.
Despite the refuge that
the believer has taken in the notion of mystery, or the
cynicism to which the unbeliever consigns himself in
hopeless resignation, each cry out, equally, “Why?” —
especially when the evil experienced or perpetrated is an
effrontery to justice or a violation of innocence.
The skeptic — most often a
casualty of evil — cannot reconcile the occurrence of evil
with the existence of God. The two appear to be … not just
rationally incompatible … but mutually exclusive. What is
more, the empirical evidence of evil is far more
preponderant and far more compelling than any evidence that
can be readily adduced to the existence of God.
The believer, on the other
hand, is painfully perplexed, and sometimes deeply
scandalized, by this seeming incompatibility which often
buffets the faith which alone sustains his belief — the
faith that, somehow, the occurrence of evil and the
existence of God are not, in the end, irreconcilable.
First and foremost, then,
it is critical to be clear about the context in which the
problem first occurred, and from which all subsequent
instances follow.
Even before this, however,
and as we have said, we must be absolutely clear about the
problem itself which, in summary, follows:
• We understand by God an
absolutely omniscient Being Who is absolutely good and
absolutely powerful.
• A being deficient
in any of these respects — that is to say, wanting in
knowledge, goodness, or power — we do not understand as
God, but as less than God.
• An absolutely good
and absolutely omniscient Being would know every
instance of evil and would neither permit it because He
is absolutely good, or, because He is absolutely
powerful, would eradicate it.
• Suffering and evil,
in fact, occur.
• Therefore, God,
from Whom evil cannot be concealed, cannot be absolutely
good and absolutely powerful.
• If absolutely
good, God would eradicate all evil and suffering — but
does not, and therefore, while all-good, He cannot be
all-powerful.
• Conversely, if
absolutely powerful, then God could abolish evil and
suffering but does not, and therefore, while
all-powerful, He cannot be all good.
• Hence, there is no
God, for by God we understand a Being perfect in
goodness and power.
Until we are perfectly
clear about this, we can go no further. Unless we fully
grasp the magnitude of this problem, we cannot hope to
understand the reasons why men either fail to believe in God
or having once believed, no longer do so. The occurrence,
the experience, of evil, as we had said in our opening,
appears as nothing less than a scandal to believers, and the
cause of disbelief in unbelievers.
It need not be so.
For our part, we must be
prepared to follow St. Peter’s exhortation,
“being ready
always to satisfy everyone that asks you a reason of
that hope which is in you.” 2
Hence, we begin.
As mentioned earlier, any
attempt to come to terms with the problem of evil vis-à-vis
the existence of God inevitably entails linguistic and
conceptual complexities, especially in the way of suppressed
premises, or unstated assumptions. It is absolutely
essential that these latent features, these uncritically
assumed concepts long-dormant in language, be made manifest.
What really is the problem
of evil, and what really is the nature of God in its
simplest formulation?
Can God really be
exculpated ? …. Can He be exonerated of this ontological
cancer that we call evil? And, most importantly, what is the
real nature of evil itself?
All too often we are too
facile with our answers through some articulation of faith
that we are not adequately prepared to defend.
Our confrontation with the
problem of evil is the greatest confrontation of all — for
it is, in the end, not only the genesis of all that we
suffer but remains the apocalyptic culmination of all that
has been and ever will be.
The problem of evil and
suffering is a moral problem with existential
consequences that extend to, and are manifested within, the
universe of experience.
Evil, therefore, cannot be
understood apart from moral agency, especially as it
pertains to man of whom it is predicated as either an
agent or a casualty. That is to say,
man either causes evil, is a casualty of evil, or both.
An all-good and
all-powerful God would not create man imperfectly. If He
chose to create an imperfect man, He would not
be all-good; if He was unable to do otherwise,
He would not be all-powerful.
Free Will
Free will is a perfection in man. If we do
not concede that free will is a perfection, then we cannot
not concede … to this concession … which is to say that we
cannot hold ourselves free to disagree with it, and deem
this better than to be free to disagree with it, which is
logically untenable.
In a word, if free will is
not a perfection, then it pertains more to the notion
of perfection that the will not be free. However,
apart from free will, there is no universe of moral
discourse; nothing meritorious and nothing blameworthy, no
intention, action, or event in the affairs of men that is
susceptible of being construed as either good or evil — and,
consequently, no action is good, and conversely, none is
evil — for we maintain that there is no evil and no good
pertaining to the actions of men.
But there is
evil.
And there is
good.
To claim otherwise is
counterfactual. Our daily experiences confirm this.
What is more, if I am not free not to love God, then my
loving God — or anyone or anything else, for that matter —
is without value, for we do not ascribe the notion of
valuation to that which proceeds of necessity.
That the sum of the
interior angles in any triangle is 180 degrees possesses
nothing in the way of valuation. We do not say that this is
good or evil. It is geometrically necessary. If we agree
that free will is a perfection (that it is better to possess
free will than not to possess it), then in creating man, God
would have deprived man of a perfection in his created
nature, had He not endowed man with free will — a notion
that would be inconsistent with either the goodness or the
power of God, or both.
Eve already knew … was
acquainted with … good … for the Garden of Paradise was
replete with everything good, and devoid of anything evil.
Eve experienced no want, no privation. We must keep
this in mind, given our classical understanding of evil as
“a privation of good.”
We must first be clear that Eve chose to know good
and evil. This is a far-reaching, and portentous
statement.
Eve, by nature created
good, therefore chose … not to know good, the first
term, with which she was already naturally acquainted … but
she chose to know the second term as well: evil.
Eve already knew good, but she knew nothing of evil,
for only good existed in the Garden of Paradise, and she
herself was created good.
Now, it is not possible to
know evil without (apart from) experiencing evil, any more
than it is to know good without experiencing good. We cannot
know, understand, or comprehend, pain and suffering without
—that is to say, apart from — experiencing pain and
suffering — any more than we can know, understand, and
comprehend the color blue without, and apart from,
experiencing the color blue. We simply cannot “know” blue
abstractly: all the nuanced metrics of physics and
chromatics that can be explained to us in the greatest
detail will never yield the experience of “blue”— or so much
as approximate it.
In choosing to know
evil, therefore, Eve inadvertently, but
nevertheless necessarily and concomitantly, chose
to experience the evil of which she erstwhile knew
nothing.
It was not the case that
Eve was conscious or cognitive of the deleterious nature of
evil (for prior to Original Sin, as we have said, Eve had
only known, experienced, good).
What is more, no one
chooses what is evil except through misapprehending it as a
good, for every choice is ineluctably a choosing of a perceived good,
even if the good perceived is intrinsically evil.
The most evil act is
latently a choice of a good extrinsic to the evil act
itself. Man only acts for, and is motivated toward, a
perceived good, however spurious the perception or the
perceived good. It is impossible to choose an
intrinsically evil act apart from a perceived
extrinsic good motivating the intrinsically evil act.
Eve’s choice, while free,
was nevertheless instigated through the malice and lie of
Satan who deceived Eve that an intrinsic evil — explicitly
prohibited by God — was, in fact, an intrinsic good, which
it was not.
I hasten to add that the
susceptibility to being deceived does not derogate from the
perfection of man, for the notion of deception is bound up
with the notion of trust, which is an indefeasible good. The
opposite of trust is suspicion which already, and hence
anachronistically, presumes an acquaintance with evil.
In choosing to know evil,
Eve’s choice necessitated, and hence, precipitated,
those conditions alone through which evil can be
experienced, e.g., death, suffering, illness, pain, etc.
Her choosing to know
evil bi-conditionally entailed the privation of the good,
the first term, through which alone we understand its
privative, evil, the second term.
Evil instantiates no esse 7 (that by which
something is, i.e. has being), no act of
being by which something exists in reality and in
which any positive attributes or predicates can inhere
— for evil has no substance: which is to say, evil
possesses no being of its own apart from the good of which
it is only privative: it is a negation in part or entire.
For this reason, we see the two terms occurring
diametrically in the Book of Genesis at the beginning of
Holy Scripture where they are spoken of in terms of the
tree of the knowledge of good and evil, of which alone,
in all the Garden of Paradise, Adam and Eve are forbidden by
God to eat. 3
The existence of the good,
does not, as some suggest, still less necessarily entail,
the experience of evil. The existence of the good,
does not, as some suggest, still less necessarily entail,
the “existence” (the experience) of evil. Adam and
Eve in the state of natural felicity in the Garden of
Paradise knew good apart from any acquaintance with,
or any conception of, evil.
Evil necessarily
implicates good, but good in no way necessarily
implicates evil. The notion of knowledge by way of contrast
and opposition is confined to relatively few empirical
instances and always yields nothing of what a thing is, only
that in contradistinction to what it is not.
To know what a thing is
not tells us nothing of what it is.
We do not know the color “blue” by its opposition to, or in
contrast with, nor in contradistinction to, a “not-blue”,
for there is no existent “not-blue.” There are only other
colors we distinguish from blue — but we do so without
invoking the notion of contrast or opposition. I do not know
blue as “not-red” (or, for that matter, through invoking any
or all the other colors). We know blue in the experience of
blue only. If there is an “opposite” of blue, or a
corresponding negative to blue, it can only be the absence
of color — not simply another color that is “not-blue,” for
in that case every other color would be the opposite of blue
— and the opposite of every other color as well.
Once again, in Eve’s
choosing to know evil, she consequently and concomitantly
chose the conditions under which alone such knowledge
was possible. Among the conditions informing such knowledge
are death, suffering, illness, pain — all that we associate
with evil and understand by evil.
Far from being culpable,
God had warned Adam and Eve to avoid the tree of
knowledge of good and evil.
“But of the tree of knowledge of good and evil,
thou shalt not eat. For in what day soever thou shalt eat of
it, thou shalt die the death. *
[de ligno autem scientiae boni et mali ne comedas
: in quocumque enim die comederis ex eo, morte morieris.]
(Genesis 2.17)
To argue that the goodness
of God is compromised by His injunction against the
plenitude of knowledge through His forbidding them to eat of
the “tree of knowledge of good and evil” is spurious
inasmuch as it presumes to hold knowledge, and not felicity,
to be man’s greatest good. In withholding complete
knowledge, it is mistakenly argued, God deprived man of an
intrinsic good.
But this is the very
argument of the devil.
Felicity, or complete
happiness, not omniscience, or complete knowledge, is man’s
greatest good, and only that which redounds to happiness is
good for man, not that which redounds to knowledge, and the
two do not necessarily coincide.
Evil is a privation of the
good; consequently, to choose evil is to choose a privation
of the good: specifically, that which vitiates or diminishes
the goo
In the strictest sense, there
is no purely evil being. This is tantamount to saying there is a
being nothing, or, alternately, a nothing being.
In a word, it is an oxymoron.
This is also not to say that
there is no single being, or categories of beings, in which the
good has been exhaustively, but not totally, extinguished — and
we understand such beings as evil not in the sense of what they possess in
their being, but in the sense of what is deficient in
their being: specifically, the good to whatever degree,
and precisely to that degree — of the absence of good in
their being — are they construed as evil.
In that inverted and
simulative realm of evil, just as there are differing magnitudes
of goodness in the holy, there are differing magnitudes of the
absence of goodness in the evil. As some are to greater or
lesser degrees holy, so, to greater or lesser degrees, are the
evil.
The ultimate expression of
this near total privation of the good is personal because it
pertains to a will, and the person in whose will we find
this nearly total extinction of the good we understand as Satan,
or the devil.
We at least know that this
primeval malice that we understand as that supremely
individuated evil, pertained to freedom … specifically freedom
of the will … apart from which there is no moral discussion. We
have no narrative through which we can answer the question of why,
in the first instance, Satan sinned through a willful refusal to
cooperate with God. The refusal to comply with the greatest
possible Good is opaque to us.
This has been speculated upon
by theologians throughout history as attributable to pride,
specifically concerning the Incarnation of Jesus Christ in the
Immaculate womb of Mary which instigated the sin of angelic
pride: specifically, in Satan’s refusal to worship God Who became
man — in the Person of Jesus Christ — for we must remember
that, in the hierarchy of being, “man … was created less than
the angels”5.
“For God created man
incorruptible, and to the image of His own likeness he made him.
But by the envy of the devil, death came into the world.”7
That this primeval malice
obtruded upon the natural world through the equally free agency
of the will of Eve and Adam is, unquestionably, the greatest
tragedy in human history.
This, however, is not do
indict God for endowing man with free will, as I have argued.
Indeed, understood in the context of the Felix Culpa, the
remedy that we find in salvific history in the Person of Christ
Jesus has immeasurably exceeded in supernatural felicity
what had erstwhile only been endowed with natural felicity and
was subsequently lost through sin.
While chronologically
antecedent to nature it was not manifest within it, even while
concurrent with it, for the two — the natural and the
supernatural — are ontologically distinct. The present argument
purposes to explain the origin of evil as it touches upon human
existence in nature, not the provenance of evil as it pertains
to diabolical being in the supernatural. Apart from the
diabolical, by whose instigation Eve was deceived, the
provenance of this primeval malice which antecedes the creation
of man will always remain a mystery.
Geoffrey K. Mondello
Editor
Boston Catholic Journal
Saturday August 18, 2024
Feast of St. Agapitus, Martyr
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