Engaging the Epicurean Paradox
"To love means loving the unlovable. To forgive means pardoning the unpardonable."
So, August came and went. It was a busy month here in the Petty household, with some unexpected new developments that kept me from returning to Substack until now.
We’ve moved! Don’t worry, we’re still in North Idaho. In fact, we’re still in the same town, but we now have a home of our own. No more third story apartment, no more concrete building stairs or fighting for parking spots. The girls have a yard now, and more space, and we couldn’t be happier.
That said, August is past but September is here, so onward to adventure!
In the past few weeks, I’ve been meditating on the concept of paradoxes.
These seemingly self-refuting ideas can make one’s head spin, and often seem to pose more questions than they give answers. A paradox can feel impossible, like something ever-so-slightly off from reality. Merriam-Webster defines this phenomena as “a statement that is seemingly contradictory or opposed to common sense and yet is perhaps true.” That definition alone is a fascinating one that has had philosophers debating long after Socrates.1
We see or hear of paradoxes all the time. Sometimes they’re big ideas, but other times they’re simple.
“The more choices we have, the less satisfied were are with our choice.”
“The more one experiences failure, the more likely they are to succeed.”
“The more afraid you are of death, the less you’ll be able to enjoy life.”
These are only a few paradoxical statements that seem contradictory at first, but in practice turn out to be true. After all, G.K. Chesterton once called paradox “truth standing on her head to get attention.”
How can failing make one succeed? It teaches a person both how not to do something and how to maintain perseverance.
How can more choices lead to less satisfaction? More choices mean a higher possibility of the wrong choice, or at least not the “best” choice.
How can fearing death remove you from the joys of life? Fear of death will isolate a person and keep them from taking necessary risks that may produce positive or joyful outcomes.
There are more, of course. Paradoxes are everywhere, including throughout the Bible itself. Jesus was known for his fair share of them ("He who loves his life shall lose it, but He who loses his life for my sake shall find it.”). But perhaps the most important paradox of our age doubles as a vital, and even sacred, theological truth: the notion that God can be both all good and all powerful.
Sometimes called the Epicurean Paradox, this logical dilemma concerns the problem of evil. It has been around for centuries, likely since the dawn of time. Epicurus, from whom the paradox is named after, proposed this concept hundreds of years before Christ, and his philosophies have influenced modern thinkers such as John Locke, Thomas Jefferson, and Karl Marx.
But is there really a problem here?
Indeed, many have considered the concept of an dually “all powerful” and “all good” God as an impossibility. They demand that He must be either one or the other, or else forsake any claims of omnipotence and omnibenevolence. After all, if God is all good, then He must not be all powerful since an "all good” deity would certainly wipe out evil entirely. However, if God is all powerful, then He must not be all good because (again) evil remains in the world.
It’s quite the conundrum. Or, at least it appears to be.
For some, the Grandfather Paradox makes more sense than agreeing to the concept that God could be both “all good” and “all powerful.” And yet, this is exactly the answer we get throughout the Bible. As paradoxical as it may seem, just because something is a paradox doesn’t make it any less true.
At the beginning of Genesis, God created all things good. Everything was good. In fact, He deemed it not just good, but “very good.” The animals, the plants, the people. All good. Good was all there was because God Himself is good (Psalm 145:9).
God creates good things. There is not one instance in scripture that shows Him creating otherwise.2 Even Satan, when he was Lucifer, was created as good3. In fact, James 1:17 tells us that all good things come from God alone, just another example of His graciousness toward us.
Beginning this summer, our pastor has been taking us on a verse-by-verse journey through the Book of Genesis. One of the points that he’s hit home is that good may be able to exist without evil, but we would have no idea that something were evil apart from the standard that is good.
Good is the affirmative. We know what good is because good should be the default setting. God Himself made all things good because He is good. Evil, then, is taking something good and bending it against its initial purpose. It’s a corruption of God’s initial will and design rather than an opposing force. This is why Adam and Eve were meant to stay away from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. They already knew what good was, it was evil they had no concept of.
So then, how can God be all good if He allows evil to exist?
In 2 Samuel 24:1, it’s written that, in His anger against a disobedient Israel, God moved King David to count an unlawful census of the people. However, in the account penned in 1 Chronicles 21:1, Satan is credited as the origin of David’s disobedience. So was it God or the Devil?
We know from 1 John 1:5 that there is no darkness in God, and we also know from James 1:13 that He cannot (and will not) tempt a person to sin. It’s not in His nature, since He is indeed good. But God does at times allow evil for purposes often beyond our own understanding. God wasn’t the one who made David sin, but He ultimately used Satan’s plans for evil as a vehicle towards His purposes — which we know are good.
The same could be said of Joseph’s predicament at the end of Genesis. He was sold into slavery by his brothers and lived a miserable life in Egypt until God raised him up as a leader in the land. Eventually, he was put in a providential position where he could then help his people. God didn’t cause Joseph’s misfortune, but (in divine foreknowledge) He did use it. “You meant evil against me, but God meant it for good,” Joseph told his brothers (Genesis 50:20).
While it’s impossible to fully know the mind of God, we do know that He allows evil in order so that good can come out of the most heinous acts. Evil is a choice. People choose to be evil because God, in His sovereign wisdom, gave human beings free will4. This doesn’t mean people use their free will well, mind you. But God doesn’t want us to love and obey Him, to choose good, simply because we’re programmed to. He wants us to repent, believe, and obey out of love, because He first loved us (1 John 4:19).
To put it more succinctly, if God were to wipe evil people, all evil things, out in one fell swoop, then we’d be wiped out too.
To God — a sinless, perfect being — any sin, no matter how small, is an egregious offense. Evil is evil to the Lord, and while there are some things He hates more than others, it’s all still criminal activity as far as He’s concerned. In fact, if one tries to keep the entirety of God’s Law, but fails in one point, the Lord considers that person guilty of all of it (James 2:10).
God doesn’t just judge murders and rapists, He also condemns liars, adulterers, and fornicators. Every lustful look, every time you’ve refused to forgive, every bit of hate held on in your heart, every rejection of God’s natural design, all of it will be accounted for. By that perfect and holy standard, we’re all evil.
It’s for this reason that God allows evil to exist at all.
This is, of course, why the gospel is so important. God allows evil because through Jesus Christ the penalty for our sinfulness has been paid. God allows evil to give us a chance to repent. This reveals His true goodness, that He would love and die for even His enemies (Romans 5:8). The Lord is in the business of turning bad situations, and bad people, into good — even if we are still serious works-in-progress.5
That might not make sense to some people. In fact, the Apostle Paul once said that “the gospel is foolishness to those who are perishing” (1 Corinthians 1:18). Not everyone will understand the paradox. And yet, there is still hope.
But even if God is all good, that doesn’t make Him all powerful, does it?
Aside from the fact that the Bible refers to God as “the Almighty” on plenty of occasions (a title that speaks to His limitless power), creation itself declares the glory of God. He spoke everything into existence. If that’s not all powerful, then what is? Even Job, who had been caught between the Lord and Satan as the latter ruined his life, recognizes that God can “do all things” (Job 42:2). There are plenty of reasons to believe that God is all powerful, and to think otherwise would make Him less than the Almighty.
So yes, God is “all good,” and He is also “all powerful.” He shows us these qualities through daily mercies (Lamentations 3:22-23), and in the majesty of the universe (Psalm 19:1). The problem of evil is less a paradox and more a result of these things. Will God one day wipe out evil for good? Absolutely. He promises to do so (Revelation 20:10). But does its existence now contradict His character or ability? Far from it.
Paradoxes are interesting things. G.K. Chesterton once noted that there were two types of paradoxes: the fruitful and the barren. He concluded that most “modern paradoxes” are the latter, only announcing death.
With his self-titled paradox, Epicurus believed that no God could be “all good,” “all powerful,” and “all knowing.” I didn’t get to the “all knowing” portion here because, frankly, (1) it’s absurd that any “all good” or “all powerful” God wouldn’t also be “all knowing” and (2) most people don’t care if He knows everything, only if He’s good and capable of ending evil.
One day, evil will end. Until then, it’s a problem we will still have to deal with here on Earth. But we can take heart in knowing that God promises to work out all things for the good of those who love Him (Romans 8:28), reminding us that evil is only temporary, but good is eternal.
Confession time: I haven’t been writing that much lately.
I know, I know!
But with the move, work stuff, and so much going on in the Petty household, finding time has been beyond difficult. Usually I wake up early and write in the mornings, but I’ve been a zombie as of late.
I’ve also been dealing with a bout of “imposter syndrome.”
We’ve all felt it, right? That tug that tells us we’re not good enough. Not smart enough. Unable to write nearly as good as we think we can.
Yeah. I’ve been there. And I’m there again now, and it’s been draining my creative battery.
How do you stop it? I’m not sure you ever really can, but I do know that pressing on anyway is the only way to prove those intrusive thoughts wrong.
If you have a half hour, I’d recommend this video essay by writer/filmmaker Bryan Hill titled “Overcoming Imposter Syndrome and Rejection.” Having just gotten a rejection email back from a magazine I’d hoped to get published in, this is one that I plan to revisit myself (but, alas, no half hours to spare).
It’s been a while since I’ve listened to it, but I remember it being excellent. Definitely check it out if you’re feeling what I’m feeling.
It just might help!
Also! I’ve been talking about my latest Western short story, The Devil’s Left Hand, being on Amazon digitally, but I finally got a print copy in circulation. If you prefer print, or loved the story already, check it out here.
Also, also! Check out M.B. Heywood’s
if you’re a fan of “sword and sorcery” dark fantasy (he calls it “sword and spirit” fantasy). He’s shared some of my work on his Substack, and if you’re interested, give him a follow!
WHAT I’M READING: The Mist by Stephen King — I’ve slowly been reading The Mist at night and I’ve been enjoying it thus far. I had seen the movie version a few years ago and had always been curious about the short story. As always, King is a master of crackling prose, and makes the world come alive with every word. I’m looking forward to finishing this one up.
WHAT I’M WATCHING: Sleeping Beauty — Recently, we watched Sleeping Beauty with the girls (okay, mostly just the Little Miss), and I was in awe of the animation. It’s beautiful, seamless, and puts a lot of modern attempts to pure shame. Not only that, but the classical, timeless archetypes of prince and princess are on full display here (something you don’t see too often these days).
WHAT I’M LISTENING TO: Tell Me Strange Things Podcast — My buddy Josh Robinson (of
and The Sword and Staff fame) has undertaken a new podcast venture with focused on uncovering “the wild, wonderful, and weird” in local folklore from a distinctly Christian perspective. It’s great so far, and fans of my own fictional work will likely feel right at home. Additionally, Josh recently released a novella that I’d gotten to read months ago called The Curse of Church House Holler as a part of his Dark Appalachia Cycle. Be sure to check it out here!Indeed, Socrates (who I always pronounce “So-crates” because of Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure…) has his own paradox named after him, the “Socratic paradox,” which derives from his concept that “I know that I know nothing.” Socrates was quoted by his student Plato as once saying, “For I was conscious that I knew practically nothing...”
For those who might reference Isaiah 45:7, note that the King James Version (KJV) of that verse doesn’t quite hit the nail on the translation head. The English Standard Version (ESV) for example translates “evil” as “calamity.” Others have translated it as “disaster” or “bad times.” But regardless, the truth is that God does allow bad things to occur, but not because He is bad, but because He is working out good things in the end. See here and here for more.
The Devil, of course, chose to rebel against God. He took the position and the authority that God had given him, and decided it wasn’t enough. The first sin recorded in history was pride, and although Lucifer was something to admire in his original state, God had given him (as he does all angels and men) free will. Thus, Satan was born.
Apologies to some of my Calvinist friends out there. I agree with predestination so long as it leaves room for free will, as the Bible displays it. Frankly, I believe they’re really one-and-the-same as C.S. Lewis notes in Perelandra.
Thank God for the sanctifying work of the Holy Spirit!
Congrats on the move, and thanks for the shout-out! Thought-provoking post, as always. I appreciate that you get right in the weeds on things.