One of the most common quotes and memes of the era of the “New Atheist,” the very online phenomenon of virulently polemic, attention-seeking, anti-God “intellectuals” that took root in the early part of this century and (fortunately) seems to have run its course for the most part, is this one. It still is quoted a lot, however, by lingering and aging followers of the likes of Dawkins, Hitchens, Harris and other celebrities of the “Angry Atheist” cadre, as well as a few social-media acquaintances who have had bad experiences in their lives, therefore in their minds, God must not exist.

The fallacy behind this supposed “paradox” has been apparent to me vaguely yet powerfully (a big but blunt mallet) for a long time, 25 years or more, in the wantonly presumptuous judgmentalism directed at God by statement two of that string (malevolence). However, not until recently, in a comment to another hoisting of the tiresome meme, I finally struck the root problem and then was able to articulate it.
Epicurus’ paradox is trite and superficial. The issue ultimately revolves around the concept of God-given liberty (free will). How?
* God values significantly free creatures: A world containing intelligent beings with genuine moral freedom (the ability to choose good or evil) is more valuable than a world of automata who always do good because they have no real choice. True love, virtue, and relationship with God require the real possibility of refusal. That’s because involuntary love is not love. To allow for voluntary love, He permits malevolence to exist. This doesn’t mean He is malevolent, any more than my permitting my kids to fail and risk pain (in order to learn) would mean I hate them. Put another way: tough love!
* Freedom and evil are logically linked: It is logically impossible for God to create beings who are significantly free to choose, yet guaranteed never to choose evil. If God forces them always to choose good, they are not truly free to make that choice. As Plantinga put it, even an omnipotent God cannot do what is logically contradictory (e.g., create a square circle or free creatures who are not free). This is not a constraint on God if you realize that logic and reason are His creations, bestowed upon us as gifts of capability.
Therefore, moral evil is possible and actual: Much of the evil we see (war, murder, cruelty) results from the free choices of humans (and possibly fallen angels). God allows it not because He is powerless or malevolent, but because eliminating the possibility of evil would require eliminating genuine freedom — a greater good.
This is logically consistent with God’s Biblical attributes; in the Bible, he knowingly allowed numerous good people, even his own Son, to suffer, deeply. Before Jesus, He also directly inflicted suffering and death upon evildoers and those who disobeyed Him, precisely for those reasons. Under these contexts, God quite possibly — reasonably in fact — has a morally sufficient reason for creating a world with free creatures, even though it contains evil. Plantinga constructs a possible world (a coherent scenario) where God and evil coexist without contradiction.
The skeptic must prove it is impossible for God to have such a reason — something no one has successfully done.
Faced with that, the skeptic either admits that hole in his argument, or claims (without evidence) that there is no God. I’m thankful not to be in that person’s shoes, and instead, to understand that God, having an intellect infinitely superior to mine, logically must possess reasoning and reasons I cannot possibly grasp without being on His level, and live with that. That includes reasons for evil and suffering. So it is.
I’ll acknowledge, I’m smart — since I was a little kid, many have said, very much or extremely so. Regardless, I still cannot compare to God, who graced me with a strong gift, yet still, an infinitely tiny fraction of His own capacity for understanding. I’m content to concede that without hesitation, and with waiting until I’m in His infinite and holy company to find out more than I’m capable of understanding, under the current physiological limitations of my quite imperfect, earthly neurological construction. Once one has reached that level of both self-awareness and surrender of pride, it’s actually easier to comprehend His vastness, even if in the smallest of ways. I encourage the same from fellow “intellectuals,” because it’s both a reassuring and rational place to be with one’s own capacities.
