Showing posts with label theodicy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label theodicy. Show all posts

Thursday, May 8, 2014

The Problem of Evil: Devils, Aliens and Doctor Who

by Laura Brekke

A word of preface: this blog contains spoilers about episodes in Season 2 Doctor Who. If you haven’t seen them yet – get thee to a TV and watch first!

Cultures across human history have struggled with the problem of evil. From vindictive gods who must be appeased, to hoards of supernatural demons tempting the unwary away from the righteous path, evil is the topic of much mythical and theological deliberation. The persistence and origin of evil, particularly in the post-Enlightenment era, continues to perplex theologians and philosophers alike. And, so too, the wrestling with this problem of evil continues as well, and is taken up by the science fiction cult phenomenon Doctor Who.

In the pair of episodes from season 2, “The Impossible Planet” and “The Satan Pit,” the Tenth Doctor and his companion Rose, encounter a planet somehow suspended just within the reach of a black hole. A legend tells that this black hole had once swallowed the planet up, but then spit it out again, giving rise to the planet’s name “The Bitter Pill.” Upon this impossible planet, the Doctor and Rose encounter a crew of scientists, drilling to the center and looking for the source of incomparable energy which is radiating out across the universe from the planet’s center and somehow keeping it from being swallowed again1.

After the station is rocked by several earthquakes, the crew is plagued by a series of violent possessions, and the Doctor discovers a malevolent alien chained at the planet’s core. The alien, a great, horned beast chained in a pit of fire, confirms to the Doctor that he is the root of every mythic devil-figure in every culture across the universe. Imprisoned in the planet’s core, the beast uses telepathy to transmit the concept of embodied evil across the stars, possessing crew member Toby in a bid to escape his pre-historic prison. Of course the Doctor, in his brilliant, whimsical way, is able to defeat the alien monster by plunging the planet into the black hole. The Doctor swoops in on the TARDIS just in time to rescue the remaining members of the crew and his beloved companion Rose, before whisking them away from the yawning mouth of the black hole’s abyss. Cue the Doctor Who closing theme.

Well, then. What does this have to say about the problem of evil? Rather a lot, actually.

For starters, we have to remember that at this point, Russell T Davies was the head writer, and an ardent and vocal atheist. He was clear in several episodes that he was challenging long-accepted religious (particularly Christian) tenets. In “The Satan Pit,” the Doctor gives a monologue in which he asserts that there are no true “gods” as such:

DOCTOR: So that’s the trap. Or the test, or final judgment, I don’t know. But if I kill you, I kill her. Except that implies in this big grand scheme of Gods and Devils that she’s a victim. But I’ve seen a lot of the universe. I’ve seen fake gods and bad gods and demi-gods and would-be gods, and out of all of that whole pantheon, if I believe in one thing, just one thing, I believe in her.

In his monologue, the Doctor declares that there are no true gods – not in the sense of any ultimate Creator or all-knowing deity. There are only false impressions of would-be deity impersonators in a world governed by science. In fact, when the Beast claims to have been imprisoned before the universe began – before time itself – the Doctor rejects his claim for it defies his truth of science and reason. “Is this your religion?” the Beast asks the Doctor, who responds with, “It’s a belief.”

The back and forth between the Beast, the origin of much great evil, and the Doctor, who is characterized by ultimate good (although, those of you who follow the show know that it is a shadowy sort of good, marked by imperfections) asserts 2 points: 

1. there are no universal religious truths, insofar as even science can be categorized as religion (there are only beliefs)

2. that evil is real, and the representations of supernatural evil in every mythic incarnation are the result of an ancient alien being chained in the heart of a planet suspended in orbit around a black hole.

There is no intentional “God.” But supernatural evil can be pinned to the first cause, a brutal, power-hungry, violent Satan-like telepathic monster. The show doesn’t posit that all evil is a result of this ancient alien. Episodes like “Rise of the Cybermen” and “Age of Steel” (also Season 2), are parables of how human weakness and greed lead to acts of incomprehensible evil (the slaughter of thousands of innocent victims in order to create an army of Cybermen).

But the show does make the claim that the eerily similar stories of a powerful supernatural evil – an evil which has the power to manipulate individuals into choosing the bad, giving into the pressures of fear, and causing general discord between people – is real and can be attributed to an ancient telepathic beast.

This seems almost laughable. For a show which has gone out of its way to create a god-free universe, to challenge notions of the supernatural, and to dismantle the power of myth, it seems like a weak way-out to simply exchange the idea of a fallen angel for an imprisoned telepathic alien. But precisely because such a show does not turn to “rational science” to explain away evil, we are confronted with just how complex the problem of evil still remains.

Just as theologians have tried to make sense of how radical evil2 can exist in a world that Christians affirm was created good by a loving God, so too, these non-theist characters are trying to navigate how inexplicable, radical evil can exist in a world governed by science and the triumph of reason. Radical evil just doesn’t compute. St. Augustine believed fully that radical evil was the result of Satan, a fallen angel, who manipulated humans into terrifying acts. Karl Barth argued that evil, real evil, is actually nothingness (das Nichtige) which comes as the result of doing the opposite of God’s will. And, Process Theology wrestles with the theodicy question by limiting God’s power and saying that, “Yes, God is good, but God is not Almighty, and therefore evil is a result of human error without a divine corrective (because correction would be coercion).”

Ultimately, the problem and mystery of evil isn’t adequately explained by philosophers, theologians, or even the good Doctor himself. It’s hard to believe that any human being can become so sin-warped that he would entertain the idea of burning people in ovens; and yet, we are nevertheless faced with the grotesque horrors of the Holocaust. People report demon possession every year, and it manifests in ways which science can’t always ascribe to recorded forms of mental illness. We have biological fears of the dark; and we have biological fears, in many ways, of ourselves, fears which can be manipulated and result in great harm.

The problem of evil – of radical inexplicable evil – is a perennial one. By attributing supernatural evil (or influence to choose evil) to a prehistoric, telepathic alien monster imprisoned within a planet suspended in orbit around a black hole at the far reaches of the universe, Doctor Who is saying (like most theologians have said): we don’t really know. Why not an ancient telepathic alien? It makes as much sense as a fallen angel (which is to say, none).

Radical evil is precisely non-sensible.  It doesn’t make sense. And while we try to wrestle with it, to find its’ first cause instead of just living with its unholy effects, we are left with philosophical wanking, and ancient myth. Truthfully, no one really knows where and why there is radical evil. But one thing is certain, it exists – even the Doctor accepts the fact that it exists. What becomes the issue worth spending a lifetime unpacking is this: what will we do, you and I, in the face of it? 

1. I want to say that the curiosity of the human scientists is, in itself, worth discussing. But, that would be a digression from the topic of evil, so I’ll save it for another day!  
2. I am making the distinction between “natural evil” – like a monsoon or cancer, which is the unfortunate result of a natural process – and “moral evil” – the evil as a result of human choices. When I say “radical evil” I am talking about the seemingly inhuman ways in which human beings create/perpetuate evil. The horrors of the Holocaust, or the Cambodia Killing fields are two examples of radical evil.

Laura Brekke is a woman of many names and many interests. When she is being a grown up, she directs Religious Diversity as a Catholic university in California. When she is being an academic, she ponders theological anthropology and popular culture. When she’s being a pastor, she writes a blog musing about faith, spirituality, and our reluctance to be vulnerable. And when she is just being herself, she proudly embraced her inner Whovian fangirl.

You can follow On Pop Theology on Twitter @OnPopTheology or like us on Facebook at www.facebook.com/OnPopTheology. If you'd like to support what we do here, you can donate via the button on the right of the screen.

Image Credits:
Image #1

Image #2 
Image #3
  
You might also like:  

Friday, June 7, 2013

When Winter Comes

winter is coming, Game of Thrones, Ned Stark, HBO
by Jacob Campbell

I love Game of Thrones - the show, not the books, and yes, I know this makes me some sort of Westerosian heretic. I am presently on my third attempt to tackle the books, so please, a little grace. But the show...holy cow, it is good. I love Ned Stark, the ostensible hero of the first season. He is noble, just, and loves his family, but what makes him so interesting is that those are the very things that trap him as well. His virtue keeps him caged, in a world where everyone else acts in complete freedom, regardless of law or tradition. And I also love the ancient motto of his house, a reminder to prepare for hard times are ahead: “Winter is coming...”. 

The show teaches me, again and again, that notions of good and evil really are limited, that they break down in a complex world. It teaches that winter really is coming. Winter itself is neither good nor evil, it’s merely the reality of naturally complex world and a perfect metaphor for the struggles of life. And, it also proves to me that I probably shouldn’t watch a show with this much sex.  

But yeah, in Game of Thrones, there really aren’t many truly good guys or, for that matter, truly bad guys. Life is more complex than that. A character may commit a petty atrocity in one scene and in another, we see him acting nobly and heroically. And what’s more, both seem entirely consistent with his nature. Like King David, who a professor of mine refers to as a petty tyrant, some characters do cruel things and yet remain the shows ‘good guys’.  

Consider Tyrion Lannister: he’s a scheming, whoring, drunken, acerbic dwarf who, at the same time, is brilliant, nurturing, and even shows himself to be the hero on more than a few occasions. Can he be categorized as simply good or simply bad?

And here is the one I’ve been wrestling with: can God? 

The events two months ago in Boston left many shaken. And while the national attention was focused on the bombings and ensuing manhunt, other more personal tragedies unfolded in my life. A member of my church was broken as his wife left him, and took their children with her. A friend’s twins, born prematurely, were unable to survive; they died in the NICU. With the world so often in turmoil, so viciously dishing out pain and horror, it always seems like winter. 

God on Trial, Job, auschwitz, BBC, movie, holocaustAnd inevitably the “why, God?” questions emerge. They don’t just emerge; they pile up. How could a God who is good continue to allow such pain at every turn? How could he not stop it?  But I’m not convinced anymore of the premise of behind such questions. I don’t think it’s a simple world we live in; it’s far more complex. As Game of Thrones shows us, in a complex world, our simplistic notions of good and bad no longer work.  

We cannot confine God to our categories, even the ones we name “good” and “bad”. It’s easy to think of God as good in the long, green summer; it’s easy to call God good as long as nothing too terrible happens. But when winter comes, it’s much harder to grapple with a good God. The lines start to blur. 

This isn't just a philosophical exercise for me; there have been far too many winters in my life already. My father was an alcoholic. He abused my brother and mother both physically and verbally. That same brother was later killed in a gas station robbery, leaving my father deeply depressed. That began a long slow decline of more alcoholism and eventually, death by cancer. My wife and I have struggled with joblessness and financial difficulties. Sometimes it feels as if God has turned against me. 

Now, I don’t mean to claim I have the hedge on suffering, but I can truly say I have experienced my fair share. And what I have discovered is that chasing the “If God is good...” rabbit into a bottomless hole accomplishes nothing.      

There is a great line in the movie God on Trial, which has Jewish prisoners in Auschwitz prosecute God for allowing the Holocaust, where one of the rabbis gives an impassioned speech that includes the line, “God is not good; he was never good. He was simply on our side.” 

What do we do with God when it seems like he’s turned on us? Is this not the cry of Job, “Yet God has found fault with me, he considers me his enemy.”  What do we make of God when it seems like winter has come, and that winter never ends?

We need to understand that God is above what we understand as good or bad. How does a good God let bad things happen? Because he is God. He is neither good nor bad. Sure, Scripture proclaims God as good in places. And certainly, the goodness of God was manifested in Jesus. 

God is, infinite, good, bad, unknowableBut something as wild and uncontainable as God cannot be serviced by simplistic terms like ‘good’ or ‘bad’. Heck, ‘magnificent’ and ‘malevolent’ don’t do him justice. When winter comes, it’s all our finite brains can do to attempt to understand God in the present by trying to frame him in good or bad terms. 

Job pleaded to know the mind of God and was answered with more mystery. In the presence of God, Job was humbled as a mere human. And in the end, that is all we are. As we wrestle with an infinite reality, we need to remember how finite we actually are.    

It can be difficult to see God in the hard times. But hard times always come, and when they do, we must let go of our limited categories, give up confining God to the boxes of ‘good’ and ‘bad’. God transcends such things. We don’t need hollow phrases like, “It’s just his will,” or “God has a plan”. Sometimes it is best, even in the midst of a winter of suffering, to just be still, and know that God is God.

Jacob Campbell is a husband, father and teacher living in Chattanooga, Tennessee. According to Facebook he's a fan of the movie Road Warrior. Do with that information what you will. You can follow him on Twitter @Jake43083.

You can follow On Pop Theology on Twitter @OnPopTheology or like us on Facebook at www.facebook.com/OnPopTheology.

You might also like: