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on thinking theologically about theodicy

A friend of mine has been tapped to teach a seminar on theodicy in pastoral care and theology next fall, and he's asked me to think through what I believe a seminar like that should include.

Theodicy (a.k.a. "the problem of evil") is one of those theological digressions that take place in nearly every introductory class of theology that I teach.  I once was very reluctant about that.  These days, though, I think it offers the most fertile ground for getting pastors to think theologically, so I find it -- sadly enough -- one of my most exciting topics.  Particular suffering of the sort encountered in pastoral ministry problematizes theology's preference for neat answers.  Any pastor who's ever walked into a hospital room knows this.

My classes on theodicy tend to be a mix of Simone Weil, Marilyn McCord Adams, John Hick, James Cone, Sarah Coakley, GK Chesterton, Augustine, Aquinas, and Barth.  A serious theological discussion about theodicy will always dip into Dostoyevsky, reckon with memories of tsunamis, and include the silence of unspoken personal horrors, but I find that the emerging discussion always tends towards certain important emphases.  I rarely (if ever) lecture from notes, because I tend to keep certain theses in my mind that I'm more interested to explore with classes, so I don't really have any lecture notes to share.  Instead, here are those theses:
  1. Suffering is mysterious, which is why we should pay attention to it and talk about it as much as possible.
  2. Evil is [such as it "is"] actually evil, which is why it is never covertly good.  No evil is ever "educational" or "a training in righteousness".  God does not inflict suffering upon his creation in order to "teach us a lesson".  Such a god is monstrous -- demonic and satanic, in fact.  This is not the God and Father of Jesus Christ.
  3. God is not a finite agent, which is why we cannot expect God to respond to suffering the way we would.  When talking about God and suffering, one must always talk about the cross.  Always.
  4. Christ's suffering is real and particular, though, which is why it doesn't provide a general principle that confers meaning upon all experiences of suffering.  The cross is a particular suffering, as all suffering is particular.  When we talk about God and suffering, we're left to talk about particular sufferings, not generalized "suffering".
  5. In thinking theologically about theodicy, the temptation is always to try to "justify God" to we humans -- which is why we should always question theodicy as a theological enterprise.  In other words, where do we talk about our mortality and its relation to even asking the question, "Why God?"
  6. Christianity cannot provide a theoretical answer to the problem of evil.  Because there is no theoretical evil.  All evil is particular.  It is the absence of a particular good.  So the Christian response to evil is a particular lament, a particular work of good.  To speak of suffering Christianly is to speak of resurrection hope particularly.  And to work at those points at which the resurrection touches particular human lives.
  7. Christian prayer, then, is the best stimulant of the compassion necessary for Kingdom work.  That's why we Christians constantly pray, "deliver us from evil".  Without prayer and worship, there is no Christian response to suffering and evil.