I have been dialoging a bit with Skarlet on the subject of whether the claim that God permitting of evil to occur exculpates Him, whereas God’s foreordaining or determining of evil does not. Since I am criticizing the Arminian view, as expressed by most people I’ve talked with and by Skarlet in particular, I must point out that throughout this particular post I will be assuming the moral position of Arminianism is true, especially concerning the definition of love. This will save me from having to notate each statement. Thus, if I say, “God loves such-and-so person” I don’t have to add “under Arminianism.” Furthermore, this is an internal critique of Arminianism. I would not frame the subject in this manner if I were presenting Calvinism. All this should be obvious even before, but now I’ve made it explicit too.
Anyway, I believe the tension of the issue can most fully be expressed by the question: “Is it loving to permit an injustice to occur when you have the ability to stop it?” For the moment, I’m restricting this question to humans only, so I’m not concerned yet with whether it is loving for God to do so.
When Skarlet critiqued the Calvinist position, she offered up the illustration of an eight-year-old being attacked. I will therefore continue with that illustration, re-presenting some of what I already asked Skarlet before, but also adding some commentary and teasing out some of the logical implications as we go along. Let’s see if we can understand the entirety of the question first.
Suppose that there is an eight-year-old girl being attacked. Are you obligated to rescue her?
Obviously, there is not enough information immediately available to answer this question. The location of the parties involved, for one thing, is highly relevant. If the attack is occurring in Boston and you live in Bermuda, it is difficult to argue with a straight face that someone is obligated to go that far out of his way to stop such an attack.
More important to our discussion, the relative strength of the parties involved is also relevant. If you are in position where you could logically render aid, yet the eight-year-old girl is being attacked by several strong, athletic body-builders, or by someone wielding a weapon, while you in contrast are a mere 110 lbs and confined to a wheelchair, again it would be ludicrous to believe you are obligated to rescue the girl.
What about the other extreme then? Suppose it’s the 110 lb weakling who is attacking the eight-year-old girl, whereas you are an athlete in the prime of your life and you happened to have brought your AK47 to show off to your defensive linemen friends when the attack occurs five feet in front of you. At this point, is there an obligation to rescue the girl? It doesn’t seem that it is at all possible for the attacker to harm you, and instead it seems almost trivial that you would be able to subdue him instead, saving the girl from a horrible event. It appears that at most all that could happen to you is that you are inconvenienced for a moment.
If you stand five feet away and permit this attack to happen, are you not rightly condemned for your inaction? Does Scripture not say that we are to love our neighbor as ourselves? And if that is the case, is it loving for you to allow the eight-year-old girl to be attacked when you could have so easily stopped it? Perhaps the attacker might believe it is loving! But certainly not the victim.
So it appears that the moral imperative to act is dependent upon some sliding factors, and most of those factors seem to concentrate on the risk involved. It seems to boil down to the fact that we do not require someone to self-sacrifice in order to save another person, but we also do not let them off the hook when it is no self-sacrifice and they refuse to act. That is, if the risk of injury to life or limb is high enough, there is no moral impetus to act to save someone in need; but if there is little or no risk then one must act.
But we can clearly extrapolate this back to God. God is omnipotent, omniscient, and omnipresent. His omnipresence means that when the eight-year-old girl is being attacked by the attacker, He is in a location where He could intervene. His omniscience means that He knows even before it happens that the attack is going to happen, and furthermore He knows what He could do to prevent it or to neutralize it once it begins. And finally, his omnipotence means He has the power to ensure that the girl is saved with absolutely no risk to Himself. If all these things are true, then how does God not have a moral requirement to save the girl?
Even that example doesn’t truly show the scope to which God is involved though. For one thing, neither the girl nor the attacker would exist had God not created them. For that matter, the ability for the attacker to get to the girl would not have existed without God having created the world either. Furthermore, as Christians we believe that God’s power is what continues to keep everything that exists existing. Which means that nothing exists unless God is actively using His own power, willing it to exist. So as the attacker is attacking the eight-year-old girl, God is at that very moment continuing to sustain the existence of the attacker.
Furthermore, we know that the wages of sin is death, so life is not owed to anyone. As a result, God would not be unjust in killing the attacker, even before the attacker attacked the eight-year-old girl. So even if God did not want to use His power to remove the attacker in a different manner (such as physically forcing him away), He could still simply strike the attacker dead at any moment and the attack would cease. God would have violated no sense of justice in doing so. The attacker is not owed life, nor even existence.
More importantly: how can anyone argue that God in the Arminian sense loves the eight-year-old girl here? It seems to me that at best all you’ve got is a completely dispassionate God who couldn’t care less about her, if not a God who actively hates her. It seems to me that all an Arminian can do is say, “God says He loves her.” But at this point, shouldn’t actions speak louder than words?
So let me make this blunt for Skarlet. Skarlet, suppose that you are the eight-year-old girl. Suppose that you are in the process of being attacked, and I am standing just a few feet away. I fully know what is happening to you. I could stop it from happening without any risk at all to myself, yet I sit by and let the attack go on. Then, after all of that, suppose I had the gall to go up to you and say, “I love you.” What would you do?
Or let’s make it even more analogous. Suppose that the attacker is a creature that I designed in a lab. I used quantum mechanics to ensure the creature makes non-determined choices. In the process of designing the creature, it became apparent that I need to constantly feed it electrical current from a generator that I have to carry with me. Now suppose that that creature is roaming the country with me in tow (continuing to feed it electrical current from my generator) and it attacks you. At this point, all I need to do to stop the attack is simply turn off the generator I’m carrying. Yet I do not do so, nor do I try in any other way to stop the attack. You cannot argue that I caused the attack to happen, since it occurred as the result of a chain of non-determined quantum states; and yet would I not rightly be arrested and jailed for all of this? And would you not spit in my face if I told you that I did all this out of love for you and everyone else in the world?
Clearly “permission” does not exculpate humans when they are in as analogous a position to God as we can think of. What actually is different about God that enables “permission” to exculpate Him? Furthermore, what is it about that actual detail—whatever it is—that would exculpate God via permission and yet would not simultaneously exculpate God for determining what happened instead of permitting it?
Now Skarlet has offered one possible defense here, which is to quote C.S. Lewis from The Problem of Pain. Lewis’s argument is predicated on the assumption that the possibility of pain arises naturally as a risk whenever free will occurs. He concludes:
So it is with the life of souls in a world: ?xed laws, consequences unfolding by causal necessity, the whole natural order, are at once limits within which their common life is con?ned and also the sole condition under which any such life is possible. Try to exclude the possibility of suffering which the order of nature and the existence of free wills involve, and you ?nd that you have excluded life itself.
Yet Lewis seemingly forgets that in Heaven there will be no pain or suffering at all. How is this possible if “the possibility of suffering” is a direct result of “the order of nature and the existence of free wills”? The only answer can be that in Heaven we will have no free will. And yet if we will have no free will in Heaven, why do Arminians contend we must have free will on Earth? But an even greater problem, if not having those means you’ve “excluded life itself” then Lewis must mean that there will be no life after death in the first place! Surely not an orthodox view to hold.
Additionally, even most Libertarians grant that freedom does not require us to have the ability to make every possible choice. After all, God cannot make an evil choice yet is considered free. So that means that pain is not a necessary risk in granting creatures free will, for the free will need only be between options that are good or better, and not even allow evil to be an option. Indeed, that is how some Libertarians argue to say we keep free will in Heaven. Yet if it works in Heaven, why can’t God implement it on Earth? If it is moral in Heaven, where we will spend our eternity, how could it not be moral on Earth?
UPDATE. I had already edited this some time ago on Triablogue, but forgot to update it here too. Since there was some offense taken at the original illustration, I have edited it slightly from the original form.






