Ars Disputandi ISSN: 1566-5399 (Print) (Online) Journal homepage: https://www.tandfonline.com/loi/rjpt17 Problems of Evil and the Power of God Alan Rhoda To cite this article: Alan Rhoda (2010) Problems of Evil and the Power of God, Ars Disputandi, 10:1, 158-162, DOI: 10.1080/15665399.2010.10820037 To link to this article: https://doi.org/10.1080/15665399.2010.10820037 © 2010 The Author(s). Published by Taylor & Francis. Published online: 06 May 2014. Submit your article to this journal Article views: 305 View related articles Full Terms & Conditions of access and use can be found at https://www.tandfonline.com/action/journalInformation?journalCode=rjpt20 Ars Disputandi Volume 10 (2010) ISSN: 1566-5399 Alan Rhoda Problems of Evil and the Power of God UNIVERSITY OF NOTRE DAME, USA By James A. Keller Aldershot: Ashgate, 2007; x + 176 pp.; hb. £ 55.00; ISBN: 978–0–7546– 5808–5. It is conventional wisdom that the problem of evil poses a fundamental challenge for theism. But not only are there several different problems of evil, there are also different versions of theism, each offering different resources for responding to those problems. A chief virtue of Problems of Evil and the Power of God is the sensitivity Keller displays for these nuances in the course of arguing for a process theistic understanding of divine power. Following a brief introduction (chapter one), Keller develops (in chapters two through four) three different problems of evil and argues that each poses considerable difficulties for ‘traditional theism’, his label for the view that there is an omnipotent, omniscient, all-good God (2). More specifically, Keller’s target is traditional Christian theism (2–3) and its doctrine of divine omnipotence, according to which God has ‘the power to unilaterally determine or control all logically possible creaturely states of affairs’ (8). Actually, the word ‘all’ in that definition of omnipotence is too strong. The whole point of the free will defense, for example, is that God cannot unilaterally bring it about that there exist creatures with moral freedom who always freely refrain from sinning. Yet that is certainly a ‘logically possible creaturely state of affairs’. Keller’s real target, however, is the claim that God can unilaterally determine or control some logically possible creaturely states of affairs. That’s where the divide between traditional and process theists should be located, and I shall henceforth assume that traditional theists are only committed to this weaker notion of omnipotence (with ‘some’ rather than ‘all’). In chapter two, Keller addresses the familiar evidential problem of evil: There is much apparently gratuitous evil and suffering which a traditional omniGod presumably could have and would have prevented. Prima facie this would seem to count strongly against the existence of such a God. While acknowledging the value that theodicies, including those that appeal to soul-making and creaturely free-will, have for meliorating the problem, Keller argues that they are not enough to make the problem go away. Even the most plausible and coherent package of theodicies leaves a significant residue of apparently gratuitous evils, including truly horrendous ones, like the Holocaust. Setting the ‘ignorance defense’ (i.e., skeptical theism) aside until a later chapter, Keller argues that even Alan Rhoda, December 1, 2010. If you would like to cite this article, please do so as follows: Alan Rhoda, ‘Review of Problems of Evil and the Power of God,’ Ars Disputandi [http://www.ArsDisputandi.org] 10 (2010), 158-162 Alan Rhoda, Review of Problems of Evil and the Power of God if we grant that God might justifiably allow some gratuitous evils, there is no good reason for thinking that God unilaterally intervenes to prevent any of them. God’s preventing some gratuitous evils, but not all, would open God up to a charge of unjust favoritism unless God has a general policy of preventing the worst gratuitous evils of which creatures are capable (14). In light of horrors like the Holocaust, however, Keller thinks it implausible that God has any general interventionist policy of that sort (16). Surely, he reasons, if God had a general policy to prevent the worst evils of which we are capable, he would have prevented horrors. It is therefore better, Keller thinks, to attribute to God a thoroughly non-interventionist policy since any God who could unilaterally intervene to prevent horrors and didn’t would be unjust. If we deny that God can so intervene we thereby deny omnipotence and embrace the process theistic perspective that divine power is merely ‘persuasive.’ The second and third problems of evil addressed by Keller have to do with divine hiddenness and miracles, respectively. In each case Keller’s recurring concern is that it would be unfair and unjust for God selectively to disclose himself to some persons and not to relevantly similar others, or to perform miracles for the benefit of some persons and not for relevantly similar others (47, 56–62, 66). Moreover, Keller argues that if God is omnipotent and perfectly loving, as per traditional theism, then God should make himself and his will evident to all persons and intervene miraculously in all relevantly similar cases (47, 60, 66). That God evidently does not do so is therefore reason for doubting traditional theism (50). In contrast, given process theism, the lack of epistemically unambiguous revelation and credible miracle reports is to be expected (143–147). While Keller’s discussion of these three problems is insightful, I remain unconvinced. It seems to me that so long as God guarantees to everyone— whether in this life or a life to come—a fair chance to obtain the supreme goods for which their nature is suited, it is no fault of God’s if he decides to distribute lesser goods, such as miraculous healings or special revelation, in a nonegalitarian manner. Recall Jesus’ parable about the workers who received the same daily wage whether they started at the beginning of the work day or near the end (Matthew 20:1–16). While God’s loving nature plausibly requires that he work to promote everyone’s ultimate or supreme good, it is not clear, I think, that God owes to creatures those lesser goods—health, wealth, prosperity, intense religious experiences, etc.—that are not necessary for their obtaining the highest goods appropriate to them. Moreover, I presume that God can and will make allowance for and/or provide suitable compensation for those who, due to no fault of their own, have a harder time in achieving the highest goods. Keller next turns (in chapter five) to the ‘ignorance defense’ (i.e., skeptical theism) as a possible rejoinder to the problems of evil discussed in chapters two through four. While conceding that there is a proper place for epistemic modesty regarding the purposes and methods of God, Keller argues that the ignorance defense—if immodestly invoked as an all-purpose defeater for the problem of evil—actually undermines confidence in traditional Christian theism unless Ars Disputandi [http://www.ArsDisputandi.org] 10 (2010) 159 Alan Rhoda, Review of Problems of Evil and the Power of God supplemented by strong, independent reasons for accepting that theology. He writes: [T]he more stress proponents [of the ignorance defense] place on human ignorance, the more they place in question their own positive claims about God. On what basis can they claim to know the things about God that generate the problems of evil; in other words, on what basis can they claim to know (or justifiedly believe) the claims involved in traditional theism . . . ? (89) I am sympathetic to this charge. Elsewhere I’ve argued that the ignorance defense is not sufficient by itself to defuse the evidential problem of evil.1 While epistemic modesty regarding matters divine may usefully complement theodicy, it is not, I would contend, an adequate substitute for theodicy. At any rate, Keller’s main goal here is to press the need for a positive justification of traditional theism, particularly its doctrine of omnipotence. The prospects for a positive justification of the doctrine of omnipotence are the focus of chapters six and seven. These two chapters are concerned with rebutting purported Scriptural and philosophical justifications of the doctrine, respectively. Regarding alleged Scriptural justifications of omnipotence, one might have expected Keller to examine specific prooftexts or pericopes, especially ones stressing God’s sovereignty and power over creation, and to argue that none clearly establish God’s omnipotence. Keller’s actual strategy is much more ambitious: He argues that ‘it is unlikely that God is revealing any particular propositions through the Bible or its human authors’ (94) because, for every alleged revelation, either it is not clear that it actually is a revelation or it is not clear what its content is supposed to be. In support of this claim, Keller argues that ‘only an obvious miracle could give strong grounds to believe that something is a divine revelation’ (97). An ‘obvious’ miracle is one in which ‘there is a logical inconsistency between statements describing the event and statements describing some accepted laws of nature’ (57). But Keller has already argued in chapter four that we have no good grounds for believing that any obvious miracles have occurred. It follows that we have no good reason for believing that God has given us ‘clear and clearly divinely certified revealed truths’ (112). Indeed, since we have good reason for expecting that a perfectly loving, omnipotent God could and would have given us such revelation (112), we have here an argument against traditional theism. It seems to me, though, that the foregoing argument suffers from overreach. If Keller’s claim were merely that no putative divine revelation can carry absolute epistemic authority for us, it would be hard to deny. It would seem that there can be no knock-down arguments from revelation because it is always possible to doubt either the authenticity of the alleged revelation or its interpretation. But to argue, as Keller does, that only obvious miracles could provide strong grounds for accepting an alleged revelation as authentic sets up an impossible and inappropriate standard. The standard is impossible to meet on account of the well-known Duhem–Quine thesis, according to which there can never be a direct 1 Alan R. Rhoda, ‘Gratuitous Evil and Divine Providence,’ Religious Studies (forthcoming). Ars Disputandi [http://www.ArsDisputandi.org] 10 (2010) 160 Alan Rhoda, Review of Problems of Evil and the Power of God logical inconsistency between observation reports (appearances) and reality claims (e.g., descriptions of putative laws of nature). Inconsistency can only emerge given additional background assumptions connecting the appearance and reality claims. It is therefore always possible to avoid inconsistency by rejecting one of those assumptions. It’s not surprising, then, that we lack knock-down arguments for obvious miracles. By the nature of the case, such arguments are not to be had. But that’s no reason for thinking that beliefs in miracles or in divine revelation cannot be well-grounded. Given the right conditions such beliefs may be more plausible than their denials, and this is all the traditional theist needs to have prima facie justification for his theology—hence the inappropriateness of Keller’s evidential standard. What about philosophical justifications of omnipotence? In chapter seven Keller discusses four lines of argument, of which I’ll limit myself to what I take to be the most important one: arguments from divine perfection. God, the traditional theist argues, is the greatest possible being. As such, God necessarily possesses a maximal set of compossible great-making properties. Omnipotence would seem to be a property that belongs in such a set. Hence, absent a strong argument to the contrary, we should hold that God is omnipotent. As for Keller’s response to this argument, I found it rather disappointing. He points to ways in which traditional theists disagree among themselves about the scope of divine omnipotence (Can God cause a person to do something freely? Does God have control over which counterfactuals of creaturely freedom are true? Etc. (119)), discusses in broad terms how different metaphysical or axiological assumptions could lead to different answers to such questions (120), and invokes the previously discussed problems of evil to suggest that traditional theistic metaphysical assumptions ought to be called into question. But what’s missing is a positive argument for the process theistic position that a non-omnipotent God qualifies as the greatest possible being. Why should we think that a God who can only exercise persuasive power vis-à-vis creation is greater or even as great as a God who can unilaterally create or intervene in creation as he desires? To initial appearances, we have the ability unilaterally to bring things about—for example, I am unilaterally causing these words to appear in my word processor. Indeed, Keller concedes as much (138). But then why shouldn’t God, the greatest possible being, also have unilateral power to bring about some creaturely events? Could I really have more power with respect to certain particulars than God does? I find the intuitive force of the argument from divine perfection to omnipotence sufficiently compelling that, in the absence of a strong positive argument for process theistic limitations on divine power, I think it should be doubted that process theism even qualifies as a version of theism, rather than as an abandonment of theism in the face of the problem of evil. I had hoped that Keller would give me a strong positive argument along these lines to chew on. So far as I can see, he didn’t. The closest Keller comes to giving a positive argument for the process theistic position on divine power occurs in chapter eight, the final chapter. Keller here provides a brief overview of (Whiteheadian) process theism according to which ‘God cannot unilaterally determine the details of the world’ (138), but can Ars Disputandi [http://www.ArsDisputandi.org] 10 (2010) 161 Alan Rhoda, Review of Problems of Evil and the Power of God only provide ‘resistible inclinations’ (or lures) for non-divine occasions to develop as God desires. Keller argues that because God has perfect memory of the past, including the inherent propensities of each non-divine occasion at each moment, God’s luring activity cannot ‘cut off any possibilities’ (138). But this strikes me as a non sequitur. I don’t see why it should be thought that a God with perfect memory couldn’t close off possibilities, or even open up new ones, ones that were latent in God but not in already existing non-divine occasions. At any rate, application of the process theistic model of divine power to the problems of evil is fairly straightforward: God is literally doing all he can to combat evil and make the world a better place (141–143). Process theists thereby avoid a question that confronts traditional theists, namely, why isn’t God doing more? On the other hand, Keller admits, process theists have to surrender any assurance that God will ever be able to eradicate evil once and for all (148–149). To many traditional theists, this will seem a significant cost, a cost that Keller strives to mitigate by arguing against the possibility of life after death (149–160). The idea seems to be that if we won’t be around for the eschaton, then we shouldn’t be bothered that there will in all likelihood be no final eradication of evil. Instead, we should content ourselves with doing what we can here and now to make the world a better place, efforts that will make a lasting difference by being forever preserved in the memory of God. In closing, while I don’t find Keller’s main argument convincing, his book poses a provocative and intelligent challenge that traditional theists ought to take seriously. His work deserves to be read by anyone who works on the problem of evil and by anyone interested in ongoing dialogue between process and traditional theists. Ars Disputandi [http://www.ArsDisputandi.org] 10 (2010) 162