Biblical Text

You can read John 3.1-21 here.

You can listen to the scripture passage here.

Sermon Video

You can watch the sermon video here.

Sermon Transcript

[Note: The actual sermon will differ somewhat from what I had typed.]

One of the most well known verses of the bible declares, “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.” And yet we may ask, “If God really loves this world, why does he allow so much evil in it?” How can we reconcile the presence of horrific evil with the belief that God loves this world? Can these two – the reality of evil in the world and the belief that God loves this world coexist?

We are in the middle of a sermon series on The Problem of Evil, which we began last week. And today we are tackling the theme of Evil and the Love of God. In the sermon last Sunday, I mentioned Epicurus’ Trilemma. Let me state it again now as a refresher. “Is God willing to prevent evil, but not able? Then he is not omnipotent. Is he able, but not willing? Then he is malevolent. Is he both able and willing? Then from whence comes evil?” 

Last week we dealt with the last question that addresses the origin of evil. Today we will tackle the second part of the trilemma which assumes that God is omnipotent and asks why evil exists if there is a God who is powerful enough to remove it. In other words, if God is able to remove evil and does not then it must mean that he is not loving but rather is malevolent who somehow is okay with all the suffering in the world.

In the sermon last week we saw that God could very well have created a world in which there was no suffering and evil. However, that would have been a world in which ironically  questions such as those raised by Epicurus would themselves be impossible to ask. That is, the irony is that Epicurus could become such a famous philosopher only because suffering and evil exists. A world from which suffering and evil were absent would be a world in which Epicurus himself would be absent.

Of course, noticing the irony of things does not solve the problem and we still need to reconcile the presence of suffering and evil with the belief that God is loving. In his absolutely brilliant book The Righteous Mind, Jonathan Haidt writes, “When a group of people make something sacred, the members of the cult lose the ability to think clearly about it.”  While Haidt was writing about moral foundations, we can make it relevant to our discussion.

You see, Epicurus’ foundational thought, what he considered sacred, is captured in his words, “Pleasure is the first good. It is the beginning of every choice and every aversion. It is the absence of pain in the body and of troubles in the soul. The summit of pleasure is the elimination of all that gives pain.” Now it is easy to think, therefore, that Epicurus was a hedonist of sorts and approved of all sorts of pleasure without control. That would be setting up a straw man. Let him speak for himself.

Epicurus wrote, “When we say that pleasure is the end, we do not mean the pleasure of the profligate or that which depends on physical enjoyment – as some think who do not understand our teachings, disagree with them, or give them an evil interpretation – but by pleasure we mean the state wherein the body is free from pain and the mind from anxiety.” For Epicurus, pleasure is the absence of bodily pain and mental anguish. And this is what he considered sacred.

If it is indeed true that the highest goal for humans is to seek a life from which bodily pain and mental anguish are absent, then the presence of suffering and evil would certainly present an insurmountable obstacle to believing in a loving God. Epicurus displays a remarkable and rigorous line of deductive reasoning that I wish more Christians were willing to engage in while defending their views. For one thing, note how he defines his terms clearly to avoid being linked with the hedonists.

Deductive reasoning, used primarily in Mathematics, is the most rigorous form of reasoning humans engage in. The form of deductive reasoning is as follows. There is a premise and a conclusion, both statements about how things stand in reality. For example, I could have the premise “All humans are mortal” and the conclusion “Sherlock is mortal”. These may or may not be true statements and we will touch on this shortly.

However, this premise does not lead to the conclusion because “Sherlock” may very well be the name of my dog. Or, if we are talking about the fictional detective Sherlock Holmes, then mortality is an irrelevant idea because he will live for as long as people are willing to write stories about him. So just having a premise and a conclusion, both of which may be true, does not mean we have established a logical link between the two. 

While my dog Sherlock is definitely mortal, the premise “all humans are mortal” does not lead to the conclusion “Sherlock, my dog, is mortal.” What we need to link the two is another premise statement that links the first premise and the conclusion. A second premise like “Sherlock is a human” would allow us to link the first premise “all humans are mortal” with the conclusion “Sherlock is mortal.” And now we reach the main reason for which deductive reasoning fails.

While it is true that the two premises taken together will logically lead to the conclusion, it may be the case that one or both of the premises are false. For example, I may actually be thinking of my dog Sherlock while making the fallacious claim “Sherlock is a human,” in which case, while the conclusion may be true in reality, it is false logically because the truth of the conclusion is dependent on the truth of the premises. As soon as you falsify one premise, the conclusion is also falsified.

What we have called “premises” in the context of deductive reasoning is what Haidt calls “sacred”. Something that is sacred is something that one is unwilling to challenge. So Epicurus’ statement that “Pleasure is the first good” is what is sacred to him. Once again, we need to remember how he defined pleasure and not attack him having misunderstood him. But just because Epicurus claimed that pleasure is the first good, does not make it true.

In her magnum opus Atlas Shrugged author Ayn Rand writes, “We are on strike against the dogma that the pursuit of one’s happiness is evil.” The American philosopher and poet Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote, “The crowning fortune of a man is to be born to some pursuit which finds him employment and happiness.” In her book ChangeAbility television producer and somatic healer Sharon Weil writes, “Pleasure feels better than pain. Make the pursuit of pleasure your guide.”

But where could such an assumption, such a premise come from? It seems that Epicurus was not alone in elevating pleasure or happiness above all other goals. What do we say about this? Is it reasonable to believe that pleasure or happiness is the greatest good in human life? Or is Ecclesiastes right when it concludes, “I will test you with pleasure to find out what is good. But that also proved to be meaningless. Laughter is madness. And what does pleasure accomplish?”

In the 1991 Star Trek: The Next Generation episode The Game, Commander Riker brings a game back with him after a holiday. Unbeknownst to him, the game stimulated the brain. More to the point, it stimulated the pleasure centers of the brain, making the crew members crave more, eventually becoming addicted to the game, eventually making them unconcerned about the safety of the ship. This is an example of brain stimulation.

Brain Stimulation Reward is a recognized area of research in Psychology. In a 1972 study conducted by researcher Robert Heath a subject known only by the code name B-19 was given the ability to self stimulate herself. She ended up ignoring her family and her personal hygiene and when her family finally checked in on her they discovered a sore in her finger that had developed from repeatedly pressing the button that would deliver the stimulation. 

There are many such occurrences in the research into brain stimulation. It seems that, when it comes to seeking pleasure, even to one’s own detriment, humans are very similar to other animals. Because the sensation of pain is so distasteful, we recoil from it like Epicurus, Rand, Emerson and Weil. And this is what happens when someone who really does not understand the biological side of pain decides to make sweeping conclusions about it.

In their seminal book, Pain: The Gift That Nobody Wants, Paul Brand and Philip Yancey claim that, without the sensation of pain, we would not be able to determine the kinds of experiences that could threaten our existence. If we did not experience pain when a part of us is thrust into a fire, we could permanently damage our extremities without even knowing it. If we did not feel pain when we broke a bone, we would go through life without worrying about broken bones. 

But there is a non-physical side to the rejection of pain. They write, “Just as a society that conquers pain and suffering seems less able to cope with what suffering remains, so a society that pursues pleasure runs the risk of raising expectations ever higher, so that contentment lies tantalizingly out of reach.” As in the case of the Star Trek episode and of Brain Stimulation Research, pleasure can become a drug in and of itself making us crave more while rewarding us with less each time.

It also seems that pain and suffering have a role to play in developing our creativity. In his book, The Third Man, Grahan Greene writes, “In Italy for thirty years under the Borgias, they had warfare, terror, murder, bloodshed – but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and the Renaissance. In Switzerland, they had brotherly love, five hundred years of democracy and peace, and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock.”

The sheer engineering genius behind the Switz cuckoo clocks notwithstanding, no one gazes in awe at one like they do at the Sistine Chapel or the Mona Lisa or David. For the creations of Michelangelo and Leonardo Da Vinci reach into the very depths of our souls and stir up an unquenchable longing that no engineering feat could ever duplicate. And this stirred up longing is a direct result of the painful situations in which those artists found themselves.

The other belief systems have their own ways of dealing with the problem of pain and suffering. The Buddhist author Tulku Thondup Rinpoche says, “According to Buddhism, we living beings are trapped in the cycle of existence known as samsara. In samsara, we wander aimlessly and experience unbearable suffering—day and night, year after year, life after life—because of the tight grip of our grasping at self.” In other words, suffering is the result of grasping at self.

In Hindu thought, pain and suffering are just the outworking of the law of karma in a person’s life. The solution is neither to deny it, as does the Buddhist, nor embrace it, as does the Christian, but to accept it as part of the process needed to liberate the soul from the karmic cycle. That is, one has to understand that any pain or suffering one endures is in the service of the law of karma. Hence, there is little incentive to alleviate the suffering of others because they are getting what they deserve.

The Muslim author Abdulaziz Sachedina addresses the problem of pain by writing, “Muslim scholars have argued that because all God’s acts are purposeful, and nothing is in vain, the suffering of children is best understood as a divine sign, a warning for the discerning, or a ‘test’ for their parents. And because God is benevolent, the ‘unmerited’ sufferings that children endure will be richly compensated in the hereafter.” It is a carrot and stick approach. 

Within Jewish thought, pain and suffering is often seen as part of the Messianic birth pangs, the necessary evils that God will use somehow to bring about good in the world. Some Jewish thinkers would say that we should attempt to alleviate pain and suffering when we can, but endure it without complaining if the situation cannot be changed by us. In this regard, there is an unfortunate fatalistic aspect to Jewish thought on pain and suffering.

As can be seen, the different religions approach the problem of pain and suffering in different ways. But none of them dares to link it to God’s love like the passage in John 3 does. There, Jesus explains his upcoming death as an expression of divine love. But how does this relate to the problem of pain and suffering? Last Sunday, I had hypothesised that God wanted to create creatures with whom he could have a never ending relationship defined by love and obedience.

Now, for a non-coercive relationship to be never ending, it has to be based on unconditional love. Otherwise, every occasion at which the conditions for love present themselves would threaten the everlasting nature and status of that love. It is only if love transcends the possibility of conditions that would threaten its existence that the love can be guaranteed to be everlasting. Hence, if God wants an everlasting loving relationship with us, we have to be capable of unconditional love. 

However, unconditional love can only be developed within the context of conditions that are capable of subverting that love. That is, unless I am tested to think up conditions on which to base my love for God, I cannot truly know if my love for him is unconditional. Unless I am faced with circumstances that shake my belief that God loves me, I cannot develop to love him unconditionally. If there were no challenges to my love, I would never be able to know if my love was genuine. 

As I claimed last week, God’s purposes are two-staged. There is the current first stage in which we experience a lot of pain and suffering that challenge our view of God. We are given reasons – some of them strong and persuasive – to turn our backs on God and reject him. And we are therefore presented with the possibilities of obeying him or disobeying him. Only where there is a fork in the road is there a possibility of going down the wrong path. And so it is with this life.

Here we are presented with challenges to our faith – sickness, disabilities, abuse, disasters, crime, injustice, and I could go on. With each difficult situation we face, we are also asked the question, “Do you love God only when things go well for you or do you love him despite the horrible things that have happened?” And this question can only be posed to me when I am facing a situation in which things are not going quite well for me – that is, when I am facing pain and suffering.

You see, the Christian faith does not ask us to attempt to escape the cycle of pain and suffering like Buddhism does. The Christian faith does not ask us to think of pain and suffering as our just desserts for past transgressions like Hinduism does. The Christian faith does not ask us to think of pain and suffering as earning us brownie points that we can exchange for rewards like Islam does. The Christian faith also does not ask us to have a fatalistic view of pain and suffering like Judaism does. 

The Christian faith does not ask us to attempt to find a meaning or purpose for this or that painful situation we are enduring. Rather, it asks us to do something infinitely more daring – to dare to believe, despite our pain and suffering, that God is a loving God. It is a tall ask. It asks us to stretch our ability to trust and love beyond what is humanly possible. And it would be a ridiculously heavy burden were it not for the bible’s answer to a crucial question. 

The question is, “Why should I trust that a God who allows so much suffering actually loves me?” In answer to this, while weaving in the ideas of light and darkness, good and evil, Jesus tells Nicodemus, “God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.” This is a God who, because he loves us and because he knows we live in a world full of pain and suffering, sent his one and only Son.

This is a God who did not remain distant and aloof, but who willingly entangled himself in the murkiness of our world with all its pain and suffering. And not only that, he did not exempt himself from pain and suffering but was, as Isaiah says, “A man of sorrows and acquainted with grief.” Now, the worst thing we can have in a relationship between unequals is for the superior party to ask the inferior party to make some sacrifice, while exempting themselves from it.

We experience this daily. Our superiors at work tell us to do things they would not do or to bear with things they do not have to bear with. Our politicians tell us to do things in the interest of the nation while themselves doing just the opposite. And this is why we cannot and do not fully trust our bosses or our political leaders. They have not displayed solidarity with us in our struggles and so we do not commit to them fully for we have not seen similar commitment from them.

However, concerning Jesus, Paul tells us in his letter to the Philippians, “Who, being in the form of God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very form of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death – even death on a cross!” Paul presents Jesus’ complete solidarity with humans as an example for us to follow.

And so we are faced with another question, “Is the display of love on the cross sufficient for us?” For God gave his one and only Son as a display of love. There is nothing greater that he could give. There is no greater proof of divine love than that of Jesus on the cross. And if that does not convince us of God’s love, nothing can and nothing will. But note that the giving of Jesus is not done in a vacuum. It is not an empty gift with no purpose.

Rather, the gift is given in the context of this world being under the sway of evil and living in darkness. The gift is given as God’s solution to the problem of evil displayed through extravagant divine love. For in the end, the death of God’s Son on the cross is the public display of the gift of love to vanquish evil. Dare we believe it?