Human Suffering: is there really a point to it all?

This post is in response to a comment my friend Cory made to my previous post "Watering Camels." I think he brings up a good question (he has given me permission to publish his comments here):

Cory #1: Hey Cade, hope you are well. Read your post, but have a hard time with the "God allows us to go through tough times because it's just all part of his plan" thesis. What exactly are starving children learning from their suffering? Or children born with AIDS? Or those who died in the Tsunami? Death and suffering seem a high price to pay to teach someone a lesson.

Perhaps Scott losing his job was just bad luck, and not some divine master plan to teach him virtue.

Here is my response, which is overly huge. Hense, the seperate post for it:

Cade #1: Cory, thanks for reading the post and taking the time to respond. Since commenting on facebook does not show up on my proper-blog (it's imported to facebook), would it be okay for me to post your comments there?
You bring up some interesting points. As far as I can tell you are addressing a side tangent I made toward the end of the post, but still, your reflections are worth considering (as usual).
Here's my response:
...Keep in mind that I believe there is a God and my primary source for information about him is the Bible (not a universal assertion, but humor me). This is going to color my response obviously.... See More

As Obi Wan puts it; "In my experience there is no such thing as luck." Please do not laugh at me for drawing philosophical wisdom from Star Wars (haha), for the wisdom in this case is sound. I just do not see strong enough evidence for the belief that all events are strictly random. Of course, there is the timeless caveat that I see no strong evidence to the contrary either, which leaves the issue of luck in a slight state of ambiguity as far as I am concerned. I guess my point here is that I feel I am justified in my following beliefs because no one has proven that there is no order to the universe.

...blah blah blah--and so forth.

Getting back to the real world, I should clarify an important aspect to the idea of God having a "divine master plan" or "purpose" behind the evil which befalls humankind. I believe that much of the advance of evil is human driven. Bad things happen to us because people do bad things to people. I do not see the one person's infliction on another (purposeful or not) as strictly random. There is action and reaction and often these are guided by choice. This is not a new view on the problem of evil, but I still feel it is relevant.

As for God's involvement in the matter, I think it is theologically sound to believe that God allows our choices and the choices of others to affect us both negatively or positively. It seems defensible to believe that allowing choice to flourish and evolve is part of God's "plan."

I agree that death and suffering are high prices to pay, but look at what the human race has in exchange: autonomy. We have freedom of choice. If suffering at the hands of another person is the price I pay for the ability to make choices of my own free will, then I might venture to say that the price may be fair.

The moral integrity of such an assertion (justifying human suffering) could possibly be questioned due to the apparent imbalance of power and resources across the world (i.e. poverty). I have an answer to the issue, albeit, not an easy one. Those with power and resources have the opportunity (obligation is not fully accurate) to attempt to alleviate what material suffering they can through philanthropy and political maneuvering. Historically, these efforts can help greatly, but they do not eliminate the problem. This is because there will always be selfish people.

Anyway, my position is, the price of human suffering may indeed be a fair one--at least holistically. Is that easier for me to say due to my sheltered life? Perhaps. I think it is plausible that God's plan (as I see it) of allowing us to be autonomous agents is morally permissable.

I apologise for the excessive response, but that is me adhering to form. I believe this comment is even bigger than my post.

I would be interested in hearing any further views you have on these topics if you have the time to respond. Otherwise, what did you think about the idea behind the main post-proper?

Oh, and I missed seeing you and Adrian over Christmas! So merry Christmas plus four!

cade

Here is Cory's response to that (again, some important questions and points):

Cory #2:

Cade,

"no one has proven that there is no order to the universe"
ummmm.... quantum mechanics. Now it could be that quantum mechanics is really just a part of some higher order reality (i.e., it is incomplete), but based on what we know so far, the universe at its most fundamental level is probabilistic. Einstein's intuition of "God does not play dice" remains unproven (i.e., Neils Bohr and the Copenhagen interpretation of quantum mehcnanics remain the accepted one).

With regard to the second half of your response, it seems you are trying to advance two theses:
1. The suffering in the world is caused by human choice
2. Free will is worth the cost of suffering

I think both have problems:
1. Your premise here is a false one. What about natural disasters for example? Genetic birth defects?
2. Really? I'd gladly give any free will I have away to prevent the Holocaust. However, my main problem with this argument is the assumption of free will to begin with. This is a hotly debated topic, and hardly something I would hang my hat on as a theodicy. From my reading on the subject, most psychologists and neuroscientists believe free will is an illusion created by the mind. I would argue that few, if any, decisions you make are truly free. Can you, a heterosexual male (presuming based on your post), suddenly decide to be attracted to other men? "You" are reducible to your brain. Your brain is a product of environmental and genetic variables that are beyond your control. Tell a depressed person to just choose to stop being depressed. Or a heroine addict to just choose to stop using. Or a person with brain leisons in the right places to stop being violent. I'm not arguing that there cannot be a kernal of freeness to our "will", but decisions are not made in vacuum. We are definitely not completely responsible for our behavior.

Here is my response:

Cade #2:

cory,

Ah, you have me picking my brain on some of these.

You also have done a great job of summarizing my points.

I admit it, I am not a scientist. I do not do scientific research, nor do I keep up with relevant journals. In other words, I really cannot comment on quantum mechanics. From your brief discription it seems as if there is not a consensus view on QM. Anyway, because I am not a scientist, it would be foolish for me to make arguments from that perspective--I would be in over my head. I have always considered scientific issues and questions as an outsider. I suppose it is worth mentioning that I do not follow scientific thought religiously either; as in, I do not look to science to be the sole avenue for discovery. I look at science as one of several ways in which to discover and understand our lives. But I digress.

I had neglected to address natural disasters, though I had thought about it. This is an excellent point. My thought on that in recent years has been mixed. Part of the problem people have with such tragedies is premature death. As we all die eventually and have no genuine control over that, the primary problem I see with God allowing for natural disasters is with the destruction of homes. When people have their posessions and homes rooted up and taken away, it is a tremendous psychological blow. I suppose it would be easy to dispair in that situation, but then, people dispair in any situation if you think about it.

In my opinion, life's true happiness is a loving and rich relationship with God (necessary to know in order to understand my reference point for judging these things). The idea that one person has more opportunity for true happiness than another seems to me to encompass the ultimate moral violation (a sin which only God is capable of committing). At first glance, natural disasters would be prime evidence of God's perpetration of such a wrong. When one's experience is so profoundly affected by being homeless (physically and psychologically), their ability to be open to a loving relationship with the creator is often visibly diminished. I guess I could say that in reality, people can turn away from God no matter what happens to them. The most blessed men and women will still choose a life without God if that is what they wish. I feel this is a sound idea considering how many persecuted churches throughout the world still maintain an attitude of joy. Even when there is no release, there are men and women who adhere to their relationship with the creator. Sometimes, cataclysmic events can turn people toward faith in God.

The problem of genetic defects, brain leisons, or other physical abnormalities such as alzheimers can still provide opportunity for surrounding individuals to become better people through service. My own problem with God's allowing these things to happen have more to do with whether it is fair to the afflicted individual. Therein lies a weakness in my reasoning perhaps, regarding God's "plan."

The final comment on the existence of free will is admittedly, a divisive subject--as you mentioned. There is hardly a consensus view on its existence. As it is a primarily metaphysical and cerebral subject without tangible evidence one way or another, I think I am safe in judging it to be sound. It would be safer to provide the disclaimer that I could be wrong--which I could be, obviously. Your statement "decisions are not made in vacuum" is undeniably true, but there may still be a kernal of "freeness" as you mentioned. However, I have a hard time wrapping my head around the idea of not being "completely responsible" for our behavior. This is because most of my deviding lines between sanity and insanity are subjective--though not arrived at through a vacuum.

I can see how many of these questions could be taken in completely different directions given the assertion that "I" am reducible to my brain. It is not a universally accepted "fact" though. Logic can be stretched to justify an infinite number of possibilities including the belief that there is no reason to believe in the existence of the human soul. Like so many other problems we have discussed, there just seems to be no practical way to arrive at a universal conclusion.

I hope I make sense.

Watering camels.

Many of us today are in some form of limbo. Due to the economy, unemployment has noticably risen. Our family has been experiencing this very thing ourselves; what with my father losing his job this summer (and still looking for one). I have talked to many Christians who go through spiritual "dry spells" where they feel God has become "silent." This is another feeling of limbo for many of us. Of course, others(not just in my peer group) are still single. That is, they are single and are actively seeking to change that (some of us are fine being single, obviously).

In any case, there are many ways in which humans can find themselves...between things. We anticipate the conclusion of events which will give rise to the resolution of our doubts, fears, and healthy desires. I crave this resolution on several fronts. Sometimes my agitation arises from a desire to simply be able to judge myself based on a substantial past rather than an uncertain future. In other words, I wish I was older and didn't have to worry about what to do anymore. The obvious irony here is that most older people wish so badly that they could be young again and relive the risk and excitement of their past. Others of our elders wish, more specifically, to change their past. I can understand that, though the thought impresses even more the importance of my choices now.

...and the band plays on.

Author/speaker/guru Joshua Harris had some interesting things to say on this matter of anticipation (aka "limbo") in his book I Kissed Dating Goodbye. I recently began to re-read this book with some friends in my church and this point caught my eye. Harris reiterates the story of Rebecca in the Old Testament. The story involves a servant of a prominant hebrew entering a town to scout out a wife for the hebrew's son. I know this sounds like an unromantic way for the couple to get hitched, but I am not discussing the virtues of ancient hebraic customs. Lets just say that Rebecca (the chosen bride) was honored to be chosen and her life up to this point had been lived in anticipation of marriage. So, she was pretty pumped.

Now, Harris' point, and the point of my post, is not about the resolution (marriage in this case). The point of interest is in what Rebecca was doing before she was approached by the servant. At that moment, she was watering the camels. The implication which Harris makes is that Rebecca was fulfilling her duties as a single woman. She was not sitting around waiting for her groom to ride out of the hills and sweep her off her feet. She was being active. This view reinforces one of the major points in Harris' book: that God has a meaningful life in store for those who are still waiting for their wedding day. I believe the same principle goes for all of the many "wedding days" of which we are looking forward to.

If God has allowed a man to lose his job, and therefore his security, it is because God has other plans for that man. If a woman finds herself without a country or a home, it is because the experience will lead her to places and people which God has planned for. I believe God has countless ways of molding us into better people, but the Bible is clear that he does not do so unless we are actively seeking out his purpose (aka, we invite him in). When a person sits around wishing for good things to happen has chosen a dead end road. I believe the point of our Earth-experience is to embark on a journey to make good things happen--beginning with our invitation to God to be a part of it. The wisest will take a step further and realize that God himself has ideas for the story (as Donald Miller points out in his excellent book A Million Miles in a Thousand Days). Instead of trying to find our own way, our stories will be better if we follow the lead of the author (of life, incidentally). By engaging in meaningful life now we are better prepared to take on the "wedding day"--whatever that may be.

"We all have our camels to water" Harris says in his book. Congruently, I say do not worry so much about finishing: we have a lifetime of beginings to go through first.

Now, lets see if I can practice what I preach. :)

Some interesting bits

I just finished reading "The Forgotten Garden" by Kate Morton. Very good book (95% good). This is not a review of the book however. There were a lot of places in the book where I said "that's an interesting point" or "that's an interesting turn of phrase." It's a testament to good writing I guess. When there is more to offer than a good plot, I find a work of fiction to be tremendously more rich. The prose should always be a primary focus--keeping in mind the balance between form and story. Anyway, while reading, I felt compelled to take note of two different passages which held special interest for me. There were many places in the book which warrented note, but these are the two which I wrote down. Nothing to do with the story you know, just...interesting bits.

Here they are.

#1: On page 46 paragraph 3 of "The Forgotten Garden," the character Cassandra reflects on the nature of art and what it means as she is about to enter an art museum in England.

"A giant mausoleum of the past. Inside, she knew, were rooms and rooms, each one full of history. Thousands of items, out of time and place, reverberating quietly with the joys and traumas of forgotten lives."

I find this to be a profound commentary on what exactly we are experiencing when we are exposed to another person's artwork. I first detected this idea when I once entertained the notion that some of the artists with whom we are familiar, become our friends (in a way). For example, when I listen to a song, I am effectively experiencing the writer in a personal way. By being a patron of the arts, I gain insight into the lives of other people who I have never actually met. It's like (if not the same as) the strange phenomenon of celebrity. A famous musician is walking down the street when a complete stranger approaches to tell him/her that a particular lyric saved their life. How strange it must be that one can affect another, as a friend does, when one has never met that person.

That is what art is to me. It is a one-sidded relationship with another person. Most often, we are not granted the opportunity to give back to the artist responsible for a given work, except financially (but even that is mostly impersonal). Yet, every person who endeavors to express artistically has made the commitment to share themselves with the world. This under no guarantee of reciprocation. I would go so far as to say that artists are responsible to carry out their expression. As patrons, we are responsible for absorbing and learning from others' creations and finally, to somehow pay it forward (as they say).

However, patrons too must proceed responcibly. For we are handling nothing less than the lives of others. We should be careful to perceive the full beauty and truth in what artists portray, as well as see the full treachery and deceipt. With all of this in mind, I personally choose to choose my friends carefully. Some give credence to the old adage "keep your friends close; keep your enemies closer," but I struggle with that idea in practice. There is likely to be another post about that subject later on so, for now, I will let it lie.

As the passage from "The Forgotten Garden" says, art practically "reverberates" with the passion of the artist. This energy effectively sticks with the patron. What a privilege to experience such an exchange on either end. What a sacred and secret treasure with which humankind has been endowed.

#2: On page 349, paragraphs 8-11, I found the exchange between the characters Cassandra and Julia an interesting commentary on the relationship between story and real life. Here is the passage:

"Life'd be a lot easier if it were like a fairy tale," said Cassandra, "if people belonged to stock character types."

"Oh, but people do, they only think they don't. Even the person who insists such things don't exist is a cliche: the drear pedant who insists on his own uniqueness!"

Cassandra took a sip of wine. "You don't think there's any such thing as uniqueness?"

"We're all unique, just never in the ways we imagine." Julia smiled, then waved her hand, bangles clattering. "Listen to me. What a dreadful absolutist I am. Of course there are variations in character."

I'm sure I'm not the only person in history who seeks out and draws parallels between myself and the characters I read about and see on the screen. I think this is a perfectly natural thing to do and for that matter, essential to the experience of story. After all, what frame of reference do we have for another's story if not our own?

In clarification, I should mention that characters (fictional or otherwise) are almost never complete manifestations of the said parallels. In other words, one character from Kate Morton's book, Elisa Makepeace is not a complete picture of myself. Congruently Elisa's experiences are not my own. Yet I find pieces of this character or story which relate to me; never the whole. The connections I find in stories are a matter of essence. It is the idea, the soul of the characters' persons and situations which resonate with me. Perhaps this seems to be a declaration of common sense, but I think it is important not to take this understanding for granted.

The reason why the aforementioned deliniation is important is because the reverse side can also be problematic. We all understand that it is important for readers to realize that they are not reading their own biographies (except when they are). But not all readers (or viewers) realize the missed opportunities when they fail to connect with stories at all. For example: I am not Nick Hornby's Rob Gordon, but that ficional character has a tendency to be such a deplorable clod, that I see how my own boorish qualities could hurt those around me. Thus, a connection is born.

We learn valuable lessons in this way. Stories have such a rich ability to pass on truth, wisdom, and even meaning which social avenues cannot sustain fully. Stories fill in the gaps so to speak.

Sometimes, when experiencing a story, I not only see myself in a story, but I see a story gathering within myself. That is, my life, opinions, and beliefs can be affected--changed-- by a story. My choices are made differently because the given story has changed me somehow. Such an idea is pertinant to the above quotation from Kate Morton's book because of the mention of "stock character types." I am here reminded of some of Joseph Campbell's basic proposals; the idea that time honored myths endure because of the universal truths found in them. At least I think that is what he said (smiles). In any case, I occasionally find myself taking somewhat seriously, and examining, the re-occuring character types. I am thus attempting to decide which of them I am like and therefore, what my own story will be (or should be).

Obviously, I look at the Bible (God's Word) first, though I do not think of those scriptures as "myth" in the strictest sense. After all, I personally believe the words to be explicitly true (as in, what God wants said is there and the events really happened). It is not the same thing as when I say for example, that the adventures of the Pevinsie children in Narnia "ring true." I do not believe the events in C.S. Lewis' books actually happened, but the essence is true.

In this way, I find myself asking "Am I the Frodo or the Samwise? The Atticus or the Scout?" Even outside the bounds of fictional story I often ask those questions. I look at the people around me and wonder, what a person's story was which led them to this place in life.

Fictional or real, I ask the question, "Where then shall I take my life if the events of a story ring true?" In my limited experience, the answer is often "Nowhere." But such an answer is not fully accurate. A story might not cause me to drop everything and move in a dramatic new direction, but it may change my thinking along the way. A tale may not change me today, but it will affect my choices in the future--sometimes big choices. Sometimes, the changes will manifest beneath my awareness. Nonetheless, I do not remain the same.

The Bible's story ecourages me to "pick up your cross" and follow Him. That means a lot of different things, but I know it rings true. I am still trying to figure out what it means for me everyday.




This ends the "bits" which I thought about and to type, I way over-did it. Art and story are treasures both of which I am always thankful to God for.