Thanks, Tom, for a thoughtful and interesting response. I think we both must feel how difficult it is to interact in this kind of forum, where what we want is sustained debate but have chosen to limit ourselves to brief responses. But we – you and I – must muddle along as best we can….
You are right that my goal is not to make agnostics out of people, either in my book or in my postings in this forum. This is because I am not so arrogant as to think that intelligent people should always agree with me! But I wonder if you are willing to take a similar stand, that is, whether you too would be willing to say that you also are not interested in converting people to your way of thinking or believing?
I am especially surprised that you find an appeal to emotion unworthy of the debate or irrelevant to the issues of the pain and misery in the world – as if pure cold logic (or exegesis!) is what is required when dealing with the problem of suffering. Your view strikes me as a uniquely post-enlightenment position characteristic of a particular strain of modern Protestantism, and I have to say, in my judgment, it is a stance that I find completely inappropriate (I am particularly moved, on this issue, by the “anti-theodical” positions mapped out by Therence Tilley and Kenneth Surin, which I recommend to everyone who doesn’t mind a little heavy-hitting reading on important issues). The issue of human suffering is not a logical problem to be solved or some kind of mathematical equation. It is a human problem that requires empathy, sympathy, emotional involvement, and action.
You ask if I suspect that you, and others like you, are unaware of the pain and misery in the world. No, I suspect you do know about it. But I am personally dead set against an approach to suffering that thinks that human agony is to be seen from the distance of intellectual engagement with the “issues.” It is one thing to preach from the ivory tower of the academy or the cathedral about the inbreaking of the Kingdom of God. It’s another thing to sit beside a child starving to death in Darfur and to speak of God’s glorious purposes for this world. In the time that it has taken me to write this response to your posting, there have been something like thirty thousand children who have died in this way -– by horribly starving to death -- in the world. Surely you’re not saying that in dealing with this problem we should remove ourselves from this pain and misery and instead talk rationally about the exegesis of Paul’s letter to the Romans. At least I *hope* you’re not saying that (even though it does appear to be what you’re saying), because that strikes me as inhumane, and I know (since I know you) that you are not inhumane.
As to the substance of your response I am also a bit taken back by your claim that my views of apocalypticism are somehow out of date. I don’t know what you’re thinking about, as you don’t say, but I consider the study of ancient apocalyptic thought to be one of the areas of my scholarly expertise; I have read and studied apocalyptic literature for over thirty years, and am up to speed, I believe, on scholarship in the field. Your offhand comment that my views are somehow antiquated thus strike me as rhetorical rather than substantive. Still, I’d be interested in having the substantive discussion, if you want to tell me where you think I get it wrong.
I should say, in this connection, that I do not think that apocalyptic thinking stands in radical discontinuity with prophecy on the one hand, or that it should be dismissed out of hand on the other (these appear to be the two objections you have to my view). Apocalyptic views did, to be sure, arise out of prophetic views – in large measure because of the stark deficiencies of the prophetic insistence that suffering comes to the people of God because he is punishing them for their sins: if that is the reason for suffering, why then do people suffer if they follow his will? The apocalyptic answer gives a response. For apocalypticists, it was God’s cosmic enemies who are causing the suffering. This is the period in the history of Israel that Jewish thinkers began (contrary to the classical prophets) to hypothesize the existence of the Devil and demons and other cosmic powers of evil opposed to God. And as you know from reading my book, I am not at all unsympathetic with this view. It is the view I held for many years as a Christian, and if I were still a Christian, I would continue to hold on to it.
Yes, I have read your discussion of the Hebrew Bible and Abraham, and I’m afraid that I find it unpersuasive and inadequate. Possibly this is because you wanted to write a short and simple book and so had to overly simplify your views? In your book on evil you treat the Hebrew Bible as if it were one continuous narrative written by a single author with one overarching theme (with Abraham as the lynchpin). It is not that, any more than the New Testament, or even the NT Gospel literature, represents one point of view of one author. The Bible is gloriously rich, diverse, and textured. Different biblical authors wrote at different times in different situations to different audiences, and they have different perspectives and points of view, many of them completely at odds with one another. I know you know this. But why do you act, speak, and write as if it were otherwise? Your synthesizing narrative of the text (both of the Hebrew Bible and the Gospels) is precisely what I have spent most of my academic career trying to correct in my students. The narratives of the Hebrew Bible incorporate numerous sources, with varieties of perspectives, and sometimes stand at odds in terms of theological perspective from one another (on the problem of suffering, for example). All of that is completely lost in your account of “the” story of the Bible, with Abraham as the pivot point leading up to Isaiah 11 (and so on).
In the end, I think what I am most surprised about is that you don’t actually deal with the problem of suffering in your posting. You hint at the idea that you have some theological explanation for it all. But you don’t indicate what that explanation is. I would like to hear it. My view is that it is impossible to reconcile the pain and misery all about us – the millions of children in Africa dying of AIDS and malaria, the millions of others dying because they are forced to drink unclean water, the countless others dying from natural disasters (hurricanes, tsunamis, droughts, famine) – if there is a good and all powerful God in charge of the world.

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An interesting discussion. I'm only sorry I found it so late.
What strikes me is that there seems to be a consensus here dividing Mankind into those who suffer and those who don't. Are the people who survived the earthquake in China not suffering because their government has accepted the aid offered them while the people in Myanmar who survived the cyclone ARE suffering? Are the people in Oklahoma who lost loved ones in the recent tornados not suffering because they live in America? Is the mother whose son was innocently shot in a police action suffering less than the mother whose child dies of AIDS? Did the 90-year-old great-grandmother who was killed in a hit-and-run suffer less because she was ... well, old? Did the 76 year old man who died alone in his garden of a sudden heart attack suffer less because he died quickly ... and therefore suffer not at all?
My point is this. Mankind suffers. Mankind dies. It is exactly what God said would happen upon the entrance of sin into the world. To categorize suffering by listing out the thousands and tens of thousands who die because of this or that, minimizes the millions who die as a result of being part of the human race. We all will die. Death is not pretty or neat or easy. It is clearly the enemy.
And it is the enemy Jesus took on. Professor Ehrman, you were right when you understood Jesus as coming to suffer with and for Mankind, but He also did something else. He dealt the mortal blow to spiritual death.
I'm not pretending to understand this completely, but Scripture seems clear that physical suffering—at whatever level—is temporary, if for no other reason than that this life is temporary. The real concern, then, ought to be for spiritual suffering, because that will have lasting implications.
Becky
There are countless possibilities in responding to this idea. One of those is shown tenderly and beautifully in the film Soul Masters. It is a heart touching and inspiring film about the lives and work of Master Guo and Master Sha, two of the most extraordinary healers and spiritual teachers of our times. The seemingly impossible cases that are shown and the recovery experienced, on all levels, is truly heart touching. Painful conditions are healed, in all aspects.
Watching this film is not the usual movie experience. It is healing. It is transforming.
If Jesus suffered the Atonement so that he would understand our suffering so he could deal with it. And if we are to become like him as John 17 suggests, and live the kind of life he lives, then it follows that our suffering gives us understanding so that we can comfort others in trials, temptations, suffering, sickness pain and grief.
An example:
When I was young I had terrible excema on my feet. They would itch so badly that I would rub them on the rug until I got carpet burn. They would crack and peel and itch and burn and weep and partially heal and then start the cycle all over again.
We tried all sorts of treatments, the black evil smelling coal tar salve was the nastiest. The excema eventually ran it's course and disappeared after a number of years.
One night after I was married and had children, my second son woke up with a terrible itch. He whined and whimpered and generally caused a sleepless night for all of us. After some hours of this I almost lost my patience with him.
Then I remembered how sometimes a lukewarm bath would calm my itch when I was little. I ran a bath and put him in it and gently poured water over his itchy little body. He calmed, stopped crying and we quitely played and talked.
Suddenly, without warning, I had an epiphany. I was thnkful that I had itched, so that I would know how to help my son when he itched.
Mike wrote: "I was thnkful that I had itched, so that I would know how to help my son when he itched."
Do you also wish for a heart attack, so you can then know how to advise your son in that as well? Or perhaps, a Google search might do just as well?
Mike's explanation begs the question, why did either he or his son need to suffer from the foot condition? So the logic falls apart. Those who suggest suffering is due to "free will" neglect the fact that many serious kinds of suffering (like a baby with cancer) has no obvious connection to anyone's free will, just as natural disasters are not due to free will. Those who suggest it is in some indirect way, from sin entering the world (i.e. "original sin" from Adam) fail to explain any fairness in this, or why for example, little babies should starve to death, because of what one man supposedly did thousands of years ago (assuming a literal Adam, which is itself dubious). To those who claim it is jsut a "mystery" and that does not botehr you much, you are either cold, or in denial. Indeed, if I hooked all believers to a polygraph, I suspect we'd find most do find it a problem, even if they do not openly acknowledge it. As a struggling believer myself, I always knew it was. Last, if Jesus suffered in our place, and took our "penalty" for us, why do each of us still suffer and die? Jesus suffered for a few days, but many people suffer in excrutiating pain for months and years, and then die, but this does not even pay their own price according to Christian theology. Where is the logic in it? If the "price" for sin is not physical death and suffering but eternal hell, then how did Jesus pay the price, since he did not spend eternity in hell, or even a tiny portion of it? Anyway you slice it, the problem of severe pain and suffering seems to have no satifactory explanation if there is an all loving an all powerful God. As the author points out, even Biblical explanations are incomplete and contradictory. Sorry that it is the case, but it sure appears that way.
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