The Archbishop of Canterbury, we heard during the BBC’s Songs of Praise broadcast last Sunday, ‘doubted God’ after the Paris attacks. On a walk on Saturday (he told listeners) he said to God, ‘Where are you in all this?’
As we are in confessional mood, here’s an anxiety of my own. The Paris atrocity has not occasioned me any new doubts, but Justin Welby’s remarks have caused me to doubt Archbishop Welby. Speaking on behalf of God, I have to ask the Archbishop: ‘Justin, where are you in all this?’
I’m not a believer, but I try to understand what believers believe. Christian theology has a long and distinguished intellectual history; faith’s most difficult conundrums have all been raised and answers (acceptable or otherwise) have been offered to all the obvious questions.
Foremost among these is the mystery of evil. Like (I guess) any child, I was struck early by the spiritual puzzle that anyone following the Christian faith must grapple with: the problem of human cruelty, misery, and pain. If God is all-knowing and all-powerful, why does He let bad things happen?
Zoroastrians, Cathars and (from their language) some Muslims have had their own answer known as dualism: a universe dominated by two great powers, God and Satan, locked in perpetual battle. We are enjoined to enlist on the side of God, but the fortunes of war will ebb and flow, and both sides suffer victories and defeats. Nothing in dualist teaching claims that terrible things will not happen — to us, to those we love, or to the world. But we know which side we’re on, and we will be rewarded in the afterlife for putting on the whole armour of God.
Archbishop Welby would find no theological problem about the Paris atrocities if he were a dualist.
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