Passing Shadows

A Brief Meditation on Theodicy

I find the creation narrative from The Silmarillion to be particularly enlightening on the subject of theodicy, or the problem of evil. In this masterwork of J.R.R. Tolkien’s cosmology, God (known as Ilúvatar) creates the world through music. He creates higher beings, called the Ainur, in his likeness and then endows them with the ability to “sub-create” by adding to the music of creation. One of these higher beings, named Melkor, becomes conceited and wishes his music to rival—and eventually rise above—the music of Ilúvatar.

In this story, Tolkien is retelling the story of creation and God’s primeval enemy. The music serves as a helpful metaphor. Melkor begins sowing discordant notes into the music of Ilúvatar and the other angelic beings, but each time, Ilúvatar takes Melkor’s dissonance and repurposes it, refashions it, turns it for good. At length, Melkor is banished and wreaks havoc upon the world in his anger and envy of Ilúvatar.

This is a crafty, yet beautiful, way to speak about the origins and nature of evil in our own world. The philosopher Hume perhaps has said it most succinctly, “Is [God] willing to prevent evil but not able? Then he is impotent. Is he able, but not willing? Then he is malevolent. Is he both able and willing: whence then is evil?” What we are presented with here is God’s power, his goodness, and the existence of evil. Any attempt at theodicy will adjust the dial on one of these three things. And if you live long enough, God’s power and goodness will inevitably come into question when faced with evil and suffering.

In our attempts at theodicy we can limit God’s power (but the Scriptures are clear that God is omnipotent), or we can try to limit God’s goodness (the Scriptures testify to his goodness), or we can downplay the existence evil—a view popularized in Christian Science, in which evil is considered an illusion. But we need only to look around—or read any book of the Bible to know that evil exists.

So then, which dial are we to turn down? Theodicy is worthy of attempt, but every effort to solve the problem of evil is ultimately beyond comprehension in this life (and perhaps even the life to come). What I would advocate for—feebly and humbly—is the “God as Victim” interpretation of the problem of evil. This view merely acknowledges that God is no less powerful and no less good in the face of evil, and yet he takes the sin and the effects of evil upon himself. Like Ilúvatar he repurposes evil, refashions it—turns it upon Himself for our good and his glory. His glory is in the weakness of the cross and the power of his resurrection.

In the opening chapters of Genesis, God allows sin not because he is not powerful enough to stop it, nor because he is not good, but because he knew he was going to be the ultimate victim of evil and in one fell swoop, would ensure its ultimate demise. This view attributes a certain degree of anthropomorphism to God, but I see merit in this perspective. The Bible speaks in such ways, and the incarnation itself is a real-life anthropomorphism: God becomes human and is glorified in the seeming disgrace of a humiliating death.

But not only that—God, through his body, redeems evil, buys it back, and transforms every evil act ever committed. Every murder, every death, every heartache, every atrocity doesn’t simply receive a big, beautiful bow, but rather is brought before the Triune God and, somehow, made untrue. As J.R.R. Tolkien wrote, “Every sad thing comes untrue.” It is undone because God became the victim of evil in ways that humans suffering evil could never comprehend. The loss of a child, for instance, is not trivialized in some ethereal platitude, but taken deep into the heart of our God—who took the pangs of evil deep inside himself and was killed by the children he created in love.

Because of this, God is a fellow sufferer with us and is able to deliver us from evil, as Christ taught us to pray. Those who would question God’s goodness for allowing sin and evil must grapple with the message of Scripture: that Christ came to be the victim of evil, so that God and humanity might be brought through it—like the Israelites through the Red Sea—and into victory, resurrection, and a sharing in the divine life forever, where every tear will be wiped away, and all that remains is God’s goodness, power, and glory to be worshipped by his people forever.

“In the end, the Shadow was only a small passing thing: there was light and high beauty forever beyond its reach.”