Dear _____

 

What follows is a letter I wrote recently to a relative. It gave me the opportunity to explore some ideas which had been troubling me and, certainly, had been troubling the one to whom I wrote. I've made some slight changes in the document both to make it a little more anonymous and to fit in with the style of the blogs I write.ⁱ

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April 27, 2011

Dear ______,

First of all, It was nice spending a few days with you. I suspect, though, that you were as glad to go home as we were. Visiting is nice, but there's no bed like your own.

Second, I apologize for the delay, but … slowed me down.

And now the real reason for writing. I overheard your discussion with ____ – the one dealing with the unfairness of children suffering, and of death in general. I was busy and couldn't talk then, but I'd like to offer some thoughts now. I know I won't be able to satisfy your concerns but I think there are some things that weren't said, relating to the issue.

There are numerous books written about the suffering of the good and the success of those who are less so. They are numerous because we have no answers. In fact, that is one of the major lessons they teach – that G-d's ways cannot be understood by humans; they can only be accepted. And the ills which we endure must be accepted along with the “blessings” in which we rejoice. It will always be a source of unhappiness to recognize that there doesn't seem to be a direct relationship between our actions and our rewards. Clearly G-d's ways are beyond our comprehension. But that really shouldn't be too much of a surprise. Our intelligence is negligible compared to His, and our attempts to understand the world in which we live and the conditions affecting our lives are doomed to failure. In the Book of Job, G-d upbraids the long-suffering man for trying to understand and explain His ways. Job did not participate in creation or in the “management” of the earth, so he cannot possibly fathom its mysteries or the logic of the Creator. That is one of our teachings – that His ways are not understandable in human terms and that we cannot possibly explain the apparent paradoxes of life. There are no answers. All we can do is accept what we are given – good or bad – as the portion G-d wanted us to have. Theodicy will always be a stumbling block if we let it be.

Theodicy, though, is a strictly human invention. It asks the question, “Can the Creator of good also be the Creator of evil?” It presumes that we know what is “good” and what is “evil.” But we don't. We've coined the words and given them meanings that reflect human prejudices. That's not to say that we shouldn't try to be good, but we should realize that what we're doing is based on our feelings rather than knowledge. In fact, we lack true knowledge of such principles. Indeed, we must lack that knowledge.

But that kind of explanation is unlikely to be very satisfactory to anyone who does not already believe in what may be called a “super-rational”ⁱⁱ system. We are trained in reason – at least reason as we understand it – and we use that system as the benchmark by which we judge everything. We live by the platitude “Man is the measure of all things.” With that as the standard for judging everything, it is not a surprise that we belittle that which we don't comprehend; it is understandable that what we don't recognize as “fair,” must be unfair.

Suppose, however, that we don't know everything. It's not hard to suppose because it's so obvious. Before we could demonstrate their existence, there were electrons; before we had microscopes, there were cells – even if we couldn't see them. And there are still many mysteries for which we have no explanation. In fact, there are some things that will never be explained, because we lack the tools and the wisdom to do so.ⁱⁱⁱ

With that in mind, then, consider the following construct: this world, which is the only one we know, is not the best of all possible worlds. It's a difficult idea for us to comprehend because we know of no other, so we view our existence on this earth as the only existence, and certainly as the only one worth anything. Many people have such a perspective, but not everybody. Perhaps the following analogy is applicable. One who lives in a village in the third world, and who struggles through a life of hardship, may consider that life to be the only possibility. He may not be aware that anything else exists. Another person from the same village, one who has learned of the outside world, may decide, correctly, that life in America would be preferable, so he comes here and enjoys a better life. But he's the exception. What is familiar is – for most people – what is best.

However such a perspective reflects a very narrow view. We fear what we don't know and try to explain what we don't like. So a child may refuse broccoli or Brussels sprouts without even tasting them. “I don't like that.” You've heard it I'm sure. “Like” takes priority over “good.” And we have our own prejudices about what we like, though they may not always be good. Thinking about children again, it is hard to ignore their liking of sugar and “junk” food. They lack the knowledge of what is good for them and judge all things by what they like.

We adults are the same way. We indulge in risky behaviors as well, whether in terms of what we do or what we ingest. Once, when I was in the Air Force, I nearly killed myself while flying. I was in the process of getting a private pilot's license^iv and I crashed and destroyed the plane. But I survived, and I continued with my lessons, eventually getting the license. In retrospect I realize how stupid that was, and that even though I thought I liked what I was doing, I was only trying to prove myself. I liked being able to tell people that I knew how to fly. But now I know that not everything I like – indeed, not everything anyone likes – is right or good.^v And the opposite has merit as well. “The worse it tastes, the better it is for you.” Whether true or not, the saying demonstrates that the correlation between “like” and “good” is not a given. Some of the things we see around us may appear to be good – we may like them – and still be bad, and many of the things that we consider bad – ideas and situations – may be good. Unfortunately^vi we're not wise enough to know.

So let me get back to your original point – that the suffering of children is unfair. It certainly seems that way to me as well, but I yield on any ultimate meanings. I don't know what reward and punishment are, and I don't know what is good and bad. I only know what I like and dislike. Que sera sera. Both of the approaches I've taken really say “I don't know,” but I sometimes rely on the second to provide some ideas to support what may otherwise be viewed as a glib response.^vii If there is such a thing as “free choice,” (as opposed to determinism) it must be the choice to believe that we don't know everything and can't judge everything. We can bewail our fate or believe that, somehow or other, what we view as wrongs will be righted, even if that means we will learn that some of them were not wrongs. So in the meantime, our best option is to do good for others as we see it while we are waiting.

I'm not foolish enough to believe that this will convince you, but it may give you something to think about when mulling over the issue. I apologize for it turning into a long sermon, but when I start it's hard to finish.

See you soon,

Next episode: “They” – Remember. It's not your fault.

i     Especially the footnotes.

ii    Not “irrational,” which is a pejorative term.

iii   Atheists may disagree, believing that science will someday answer all questions. I'm prepared to wait and see.

iv    Don't worry. It wasn't a military plane. It didn't come out of your taxes.

v    I love red meat, especially steak. And I love it fatty, burnt, and with salt. That certainly qualifies as risky behavior, but some habits die hard.

vi    Or, perhaps, fortunately.

vii    I'm not sure it's any less glib than the first, but the thought that went into it is comforting to me.