My friend Harold Ernst, a theologian training at Notre Dame, adds the following to our discussion:
Rob writes that while he finds aspects of the Buddhist perspective in Susan's
post attractive, he is concerned there may be considerable tension between that
perspective and the Catholic tradition. It may be worthwhile to note some
particular features of the Buddhist position described. The author says that
evil has "no ontological foundation . . . no reason, no cause rooted in God."
The classical Catholic tradition could say as much. God, as self-subsistent
being itself and the source of all that exists in any respect, causes only
goodness and being in things. But in willing the goodness of one creature
(say, the lion) God may be indirectly (the medievals would say, per accidens)
willing that evil will be suffered by another creature (say, the lamb). Such
"negative externalities" (to borrow a term from economics), where the
flourishing of one creature comes at the expense of another, would seem to be
unavoidable in an astonishingly diverse physical universe functioning in an
ordered way. One might question why tsunamis (or mosquitoes or cancer cells,
for that matter) are included among God's creatures, but it seems clear that in
pursuing their good (i.e., in flourishing according to their created natures)
other creatures will be negatively impacted.
But to "blame" God for the negative consequences of such creaturely interactions
would require a highly attenuated sense of creatureliness. Creation, in the
Christian conception, is not merely the "initial start-up" of the world (as in
the Deist perspective), but the continual and active preservation of its
existence in every respect. Creatures are wholly and utterly dependent on God
at every instant for whatever they are, which is therefore pure gift, and as
such they can scarcely claim they are "owed" something more or better from
their Creator (Rob's theoretical "righteous anger"). What makes Christianity
so remarkable is its claim that God has, by a second and distinct gift above
that natural endowment, called the human creature to a supernatural end
infinitely disproportionate to our created state. It is only in this
realization that Paul can say "I consider that the sufferings of this present
time are not worth comparing with the glory about to be revealed to us" (Romans
8:18), and that the author of 1 Peter can write, "In this [the mercy of new life
in Christ] you rejoice, even if now for a little while you have had to suffer
various trials" (1:6).
But note that nowhere does the Buddhist position described suggest that the
tsunami itself is evil. If one conceives the creation as declaring the glory
of God, one still has to concede that a finite creation can only imperfectly
and partially present the infinite glory of the Creator. The traditional
perspective is that each creature, separately and in its finitude, presents
some limited aspect of the one and infinite divinity. Tsunamis, for example,
might be seen as vivid illustration of divine power. But this outlook does not
itself necessitate concluding that there is meaning in the resulting suffering,
or make it understandable. This is where the described Buddhist position is
puzzling, for it claims that realizing that evil has no reason (ratio, logos)
or ontological basis (esse) "makes suffering understandable and therefore
meaningful." But the evil of suffering itself, insofar as it is purely evil,
would seem to be unintelligible (ir-rational, il-logical, essence-less). Evil
is not explained away and its challenge overcome, but remains a surd. And
indeed, any attempt to explain it away is, quite literally, ab-surd.
Rick
