Austin Hall Library

Augustine on "God's Problem"

I awoke this morning to thoughts about the problem of evil and suffering in the world--"God's Problem," according to Professor Bart Ehrman. Hardly a new problem, I recalled this morning that it was one of the intellectual impediments recounted by St. Augustine sixteen hundred years ago that needed to be settled in his own mind before he could give his free assent to faith. He discussed his struggle with this question, which he "turned over and over in [his] unhappy mind" in Book VII, paragraph 5 of Confessions.

In the remainder of Confessions, Augustine narrates his growing disenchantment with Manichaeanism, his continued bondage to materialism, his eventual rejection of astrology, and his turning to Neoplatonism. In Neoplatonism he finds the freedom he needs from an excessively corporeal view of God and the world. From that vantage point he begins a diligent study of the Bible and comes to see clearly his need for God's grace to free him from his sin and the bondage that kept him from faith.

A few things struck me as significant when I recalled St. Augustine's struggle with the problem of evil. I was reminded of how important a philosophical approach (Neoplatonism) was to Augustine's ultimate theological belief. Until he learned from the Neoplatonists that God must be understood as spiritual rather than material in nature, he could not reconcile the claim of a perfect and omnipotent God with the reality of suffering and evil in the world. From this he came to see the privative character of evil--that evil is not a being in its on right but the absence of the goodness that ought to be present in a given being. Finally, Augustine came to understand at a deeper level the causal connectedness of the material world and the root of free choice in the spiritual nature of the will. In short, understanding that evil is not a "thing"; it is the absence of some"thing" that ought to be present, and that there is genuine freedom at work in human choices based on the spiritual disposition of the will, enabled Augustine to make an act of faith in God as He is presented in the Bible.

There is no conflict between faith and reason properly understood. Christian thinkers throughout the ages have embraced some use of philosophical approaches in their theological work, sometimes for apologetic reasons and other times as a help in the technical articulation of theological doctrines (e.g., the Trinity). But, they were always clear that neither reason nor philosophy could alter the received deposit of faith (revelation).

The deposit of faith is received by the gift of grace. If a person does not have the grace--or if they have lost it or mislaid it--they are thrust back on naked reason alone--to be sure, the noblest of the faculties--but, a faculty nonetheless that cannot understand the mysteries of God, which are revealed only to those of faith. Rather than a sound faculty to guide us, in the words of Morris West, "reason may become an executioner's ax or an atomic trigger."

None of this solves with scientific certitude my questions about the problem of evil and suffering in the world. But, at a minimum, it prevents me from searching for answers where they may not be found. And, it cautions me not to lose sight of the fact that certain questions may only be answered in due time as impulses of grace, and that a man who loses his faith has, in a certain sense, lost his way entirely.

God's Problem or Ours?

It is difficult to imagine a more relevant question than that of the problem of evil and suffering in the world. Whose problem it is, however, is not as clearly established as the existence of the problem itself. But, University of North Carolina religion professor, Bart D. Ehrman, believes it is God's problem, that it is the most important question facing man, and he believes he can demonstrate that the Bible fails to provide an answer to the problem. He confronts this task in his most recent book, God's Problem: How the Bible Fails to Answer Our Most Important Question--Why We Suffer.

I was introduced to the work of Professor Ehrman, one of America's foremost textual critics today, a while back when I read his book Lost Christianities: The Battles for Scripture and the Faiths We Never Knew. While I found the central thesis of that book completely unpersuasive, Ehrman struck me as a sincere and serious scholar. But, what fascinates me most about his previous work (he is a prolific writer), and his latest book, is how reflective it is of a soul who simply cannot seem to shake his religious imprint no matter how hard he tries.

A former evangelical from a somewhat fundamentalist background, with a mother who remains devout in her faith, Ehrman underwent a crisis of belief and eventually abandoned his Christian faith. Nothing noteworthy there. It happens to some, and Ehrman is certainly not the first or last professor who gains a PhD and loses his religion. But, what I do find interesting is the fact that Professor Ehrman, who rejects Christian faith and the authority of Christian Revelation, devotes so much of his scholarship to the refutation of Christian claims by means of Christian Revelation (the Bible). 

Now, how does that work? How is it that one can demonstrate empirically the falseness of a religion, the truths of which its adherents have for 2000 years asserted are a matter of faith? While it may be possible to establish that a religious claim is contrary to reason, how is it that one proves that evil/suffering is God's problem and the Bible demonstrates that--while at the same time rejecting the Christian God and the Bible as an authoritative source for anything? While perhaps not on par with the question of evil and suffering, I find Professor Ehrman's approach equally perplexing. Peter Kreeft's words may have some application here: "The reason for unbelief is an unfaithful lover, not an inadequate hypothesis. The unbeliever's problem is not just a soft head but a hard heart."

Nonetheless, God's Problem is well written and evil and suffering in the world does indeed appear irrational. The latter is why I am a bit puzzled at what Professor Ehrman thinks he actually achieves when he carefully goes about proving that the Bible nowhere gives a satisfactory explanation of why a benevolent God would allow suffering (caused by human behavior or nature) in the world. Isn't all one is really left with after such a scholarly exercise is the distinct possibility that the Bible doesn't purport to provide a satisfactory answer to that question? Moreover, a satisfactory explanation to whom? I thought it was God's problem, and if an explanation is satisfactory to Him, isn't that enough? Must it be explained to the satisfaction of humans by means of the Bible?

I don't mean to make light of the problem of suffering and I would very much like to understand it better than I do. That's why, while I appreciate the effort, I cannot appreciate misdirected attempts to resolve the problem. A person who is relieved at having abandoned his Christian faith, whether an agnostic or an atheist, can't be expected to be of much help in understanding the mysteries of Christian faith that may only be understood by faith. Certain questions, like the existence of God, demand a strictly philosophical answer before a proper theological application can be made. Any person who sincerely approaches the question of God's existence philosophically and thereafter remains either an agnostic or atheist is not going to have much in the way of sound Christian theological applications to make about God or His mysterious ways. Theological truth is primary, but unattainable, in significant part, by the uninitiated. 

For an intriguing explanation by Professor Ehrman of how the problem of suffering ultimately ruined his faith, see this link. I find it intriguing because it seems to illustrate the very phenomena I note above--the further one drifts from faith the less clear and reasonable Christian explanations and Christian revelation appear. Makes sense to me. 

For the Medievalists

Here is another great pre-order that is available for budding medievalists, or simply those interested in acquiring a decent education. Originally published in hardback back in 1991, Introduction to Medieval Philosophy: Basic Concepts by Joseph W. Koterski, S.J. is an excellent introduction to that subject. The new paperback version is available for pre-order from Amazon and should be out around Thanksgiving. This is a long-awaited occurrence, since the hardback is very expensive, even on the secondary market. Romanus Cessario, O.P.--who should know--has stated that "[n]o serious student of philosophy or theology should miss reading this book."

How Gothic Won Over Greek in Britain

I just pre-ordered Rosemary Hill's, God's Architect: Pugin and the Building of Romantic Britain, and I almost cannot wait for it to arrive in late February. Augustus Welby Northmore Pugin (1812-1852) was one of Britain's most eccentric and greatest architects. He quite literally changed the face of Britain in the span of a short career as an architect and Hill's work of biography is reportedly outstanding.

Interested in an architecture of serious religious conviction, it was Pugin who led the  Gothic Revival in Britain between about 1830 and the 1880s. From the age of six, he accompanied his parents to visit the old English cathedrals, studied their architecture, and made drawings of them. From this early age he developed an enthusiasm for medieval decor that eventually blossomed into a deeply held conviction in favor of Gothic architecture. Known for being a bit eccentric, Pugin designed his own clothes--with a nautical/sailing theme--and sometimes appeared dishevelled and dirty. When frustrated he swore like a sailor and, apparently, he was frequently frustrated, but he was known as a man of good humor and deep faith.

Pugin's most admired work is the church of St. Giles in the Staffordshire town of Cheadle, which has been described as "one of the most admired and visited of all the Victorian buildings." Charles Barry was among the visitors at the church's consecration in 1846, and Barry was the architect selected to design Britain's new Houses of Parliament and rebuild the Palace of Westminster. It is said of Pugin that without his influence and mastery of medieval design, the Houses of Parliament and Big Ben itself would look much different than they do today.

It is often the case that those with the greatest influence on others for good are virtually unknown. That is certainly the case for the revival of Gothic architecture in Britain. 

Library Categories

I was asked recently to mention the various categories or subject areas of my current library. The categories have changed only a little through the years, typically as the result of a different emphasis for a period of time. While I continue to purchase and read books on a variety of subject matters, I remain pretty well tied to my long-standing purchase plan.

The main categories of my library are as follows: biography/autobiography (from St. Augustine to Thomas Jefferson, to Winston Churchill, to Friedrich Nietzsche), literature (a broad category that covers fiction and non-fiction, poetry and prose), the classics (books on the Greek and Latin languages, as well as classical culture), philosophy (from antiquity to the modern period, with the largest collections in antiquity, the Middle Ages--particularly the works of St. Thomas Aquinas--and the natural law), theology (chiefly Catholic theology and moral theology, but with a smattering of the greatest Protestant works), history (another very broad category with divisions for the writings of the Church Fathers, ancient history, the Middle Ages, and the history of England and the Anglican Church), and law (this collection ranges from sources on the Western legal tradition, to English and American constitutional law, to texts on specific legal subjects).

Among the categories mentioned above, I have several small but good collections on subjects like the War Between the States, the Crusades, influential books on military strategy (Chinese, Japanese and German), et al. I also have a very fine collection on the writings of, and about, St. Augustine of Hippo. Then there is a small collection of miscellaneous books that I have kept through the years--on business, art, and architecture--perhaps others I cannot now recall from memory.

Truth Out of the Fog

(AP Photo by Dr. Scott Lieberman) This morning was one of those beautiful fall mornings so common in the South, when fog covers the landscape as far as the eye can see. It shrouds trees and buildings and broods over the low-lying meadows like mother quail over hatchlings. Soon the sun appears opaquely through the trees and eventually burns away the relative humidity just above the surface of the ground--leaving a translucence that reminded me this morning of the clarity and comprehensibility of truth. And, then I thought of Silvano Borruso--a simple man with the ability to make complex matters clear. 

Borruso was only repeating what, at one time, all the great thinkers knew when he said, "truth is always the agreement of the mind with what is," but he also said, "truth has never claimed to offer happiness. Very often it offers discomfort at best, persecution and even death at worst. The one thing it offers--and delivers--is interior freedom." 

I think about these things with some regularity these days--often while working in a field, riding a   tractor, or wielding a power saw. Nature itself is an expression of truth--a testimony to what is--and one of the ways of getting at truth is the evidence of the senses. This reminds me of a comment by Etienne Gilson, who once remarked that it is not difficult to find the truth. What is difficult is not to run away from it after finding it.

It would be difficult to find better guides for the nature and accessibility of truth than the writings of Borruso and Gilson.