I recently came across a blog by the Rev. Timothy Keller, a Presbyterian minister in New York and the author of the New York Times best-seller The Reason for God.  When Keller was diagnosed with cancer, he asked himself  "Why me?"  When he survived and others died, he asked himself the same question.  In his blog, he attempts (and, I think, fails) to explain the inadequacy of four responses to the problem of suffering.

First, he wants to answer the response that the prevalence of suffering and its seeming randomness proves that there is no God.  His answer is unsurprising: with an explicit nod to Nietzsche (and an implicit one to Dostoevski), he answers that if there is no god, then all would be permitted.  The problem with Keller's argument here is that even if his conclusion is true, it doesn't prove that there is a god, but only that man needs there to be one.  When I was in graduate school, a lot of us read a novella by Miguel de Unamuno, "St. Emmanuel the Good, Martyr."  Emmanuel was a priest who had lost his belief in God, but who continued his vocation because he believed that people couldn't survive without faith--and hence became an existential saint.  It seemed profound at the time, but looks a little threadbare and condescending now.  And I'll assume that Keller isn't mirroring Unamuno and sincerely believes his own argument.  But there is a second problem with the argument: although appeals to authority are a long tradition in argumentation and although Nietzsche and Dostoevski are certainly heavy-hitters, Keller needs to provide some actual evidence that his conclusion is true.  Are people and societies who don't believe in god less moral than those who do?  Are these non-believers running amok in immorality?  And are those who do believe in god more moral?  Given the long history of religious wars and violence, to say nothing of the decent lives of many atheists, Keller would be hard-pressed to support his point.  Indeed, I would argue that throughout much of history the opposite of Keller's proposition obtains: if there is a god, then all is permitted--as long as it's done in His name.  So he doesn't support what he wants to prove, and even what he attempts to prove (that man needs there to be a god) isn't what he finally intends to prove.

Keller treats the other three arguments much more briefly.  The second "inadequate" response is that God isn't fully in control.  That was the argument made by Rabbi Harold Kushner in his popular 1981 book, Why Bad Things Happen to Good People.  After struggling with his belief after the death of his young son and, like Keller, examining the possible implications, Kushner came to the conclusion that God can't be both omniscient and omnibenevolent.  Unwilling to give up God's goodness, Kushner came to the conclusion that God is not omnipotent.  Keller will have none of that and dismisses this argument with the assertion that "that kind of God doesn't really fit our definition of 'God.'"  So what?  Isn't it worth considering--for a religious person, that is--that the definition of God needs to be re-examined?  Doesn't Kushner's argument have enough purchase that it deserves to be treated seriously?

Keller is equally dismissive of a third conclusion that some of his parishioners reach: that suffering isn't really random.  I'm sure my born-again Christian cousin is convinced that her gay, atheist relative deserves cancer (and the eternal punishment she thinks will follow).  But, argues Keller, that conclusion is rejected in the book of Job, where Job's friends, who try to convince him that he deserves his suffering, are described as "miserable comforters."   And, of course, if this response were accurate, then there would be no problem, and Keller's blog would be unnecessary.  I'm not sure why Keller even bothers to include this point, since no one (well, remembering the Phelps clan, I need to qualify that with an "almost") believes that the victims of the Aurora shooting or the Sikhs who were killed in Wisconsin were uniformly bad people who deserved their fate.

Keller warms up to his last point, which is two-fold.  God didn't create a world with suffering, death, or evil.  But since man turned away from Him, everything changed, and thus in some way, we are all deserving of our fate.  Because 6,000 years ago two mythical people disobeyed God, the innocent and the guilty alike, the young and the old, atheists and believers, the meek and the strong--all are condemned to arbitrary suffering.  One might think an omniscient, omnipotent, and omnibenevolent god could have thought up a less punitive system, but His ways are inscrutable, so we should accept what we can't understand.  And then, Keller's second point, is only for Christians: God came to earth, subjected Himself to suffering and death, and hence showed his love and assured us that He has an ultimate purpose.  This probably isn't of much consolation to the 70% or so of the world that is not Christian, and I'll let Christians figure out for themselves whether they find it helpful, but it is Keller's triumphant conclusion as to why "God allows evil and suffering." 

And isn't 'allow' already a giveaway?  Hasn't Keller's god already been reduced from the active creator of all that exists to a passive observer, just sitting back and relaxing while he allows suffering?  If Keller really had the courage of his convictions, he might have a more robust view of his god. 

If this is the best this prominent religious thinker can come up with, I'll be content with my atheism.  Why me?  Don't even ask.  It's not a question that even arises in the less tangled world where we atheists live.