God Knows What He Permits

Exterior corridor at Tuol Sleng S-21, a school turned into a Khmer Rouge prison and centre of torture and execution in Phnom Penh, Cambodia
Exterior corridor at Tuol Sleng S-21, a school turned into a Khmer Rouge prison and centre of torture and execution in Phnom Penh, Cambodia: Every time I see photos from my trip there, I can still feel my throat muscles tighten and a chill on my skin

The contemplative in the world, no less than any Christian, is faced with the harrowing reality of evil. There are days, moments, horrible weeks or months, when the contemplative call to see Jesus in – or, perhaps more precisely, behind – our neighbours does not alleviate the weight of evil. We know it is present. This man that I smile to every day is put in a position to have to beg. Those words that I heard and the looks that I saw, they did happen. The irremovable blood stains at S-21 are real.

Evil, yes, it is present. In fact, it is like in the psalms where there is evil of every side:

On every side the wicked prowl… (Ps 12:8)
They surrounded me, surrounded me on every side… (Ps 118:11)
It is not enemies who taunt me—
I could bear that…
But it is you, my equal,
my companion, my familiar friend. (Ps 55:12–13)

It is as if the world is an ocean of evil, and, submerged in these churning waters, there are just some parts of us and our neighbours which are divers, breathing, alive, good, and separate from this ocean of evil.

Valuing contemplation does not make this “problem” of evil any more bearable in itself. Far from it! Because, seeing closer to the heart of how things should or could be and spending more time consciously aware of what Jesus wants from us all and what he wants to give to us – if we would but accept it – it is plainer just what is lacking in this world. So much is lacking. Everything that is lacking but which should have been there or should have been done is evil. It’s a thwarting of the best God could give at a particular moment: all good.

It sometimes seems to me that those who argue against “religion” based on the reality of evil – poverty, starvation, wars, violence, lies – have understated their case. What Richard Dawkins says about evil pales in comparison to just how deep it seems to the saints.

Evil is real.

Evil means something good should have been.

Evil means someone said no to God, our Love: no.

And if, as Saint Paul exhorts us to do (Philip. 4:8), we focus our attention on everything that is true and good, the problem does not go away. Not at all. Seeing better what could have been and what we refused when God offered it doesn’t make things easier to bear. It makes it harder. It makes it heavier. It makes the horror deeper. Humanity was given this opportunity and said no instead – and we are suffering for it.

This reality is reflected in many mirrors and diffracted around every corner of our world: evil.

No one has perceived this more clearly than the saints.

But there are two other things that the Christian, in her time with God, can perceive:

  • When Saint Augustine and Saint Thomas – and, with them, the whole of the Catholic tradition, in both the Latin Rite (with the “happy fault” of the Exsultet) and the universal Church – say that God only permits evil to bring forth a greater good, these two saints are right. God is Love Subsistent. God wants to impart from his overflowing storehouse to pitiable creatures. And that is his aim, and his aim does not fail. If there is evil, God can pull out of it a greater good. The Fall → the Redemption. The possibility of grace in Adam → the possibility of grace in Christ and in union through the Church. This is the story of salvation: God permits evil to bring about a greater, truly greater, good.
  • On every side is evil. But we cannot judge culpability without committing evil ourselves. We are to hope more than that! Judging is out of the question. If we cannot judge culpability and the causes of evil, then we cannot exactly say that humanity was given this opportunity and said no. We can only say that humanity was given an opportunity and said no. It is only God who knows all the exact opportunities scorned.

The first of these two points is often explored in the Catholic tradition. For example, in a meditation on the subject, Raïssa Maritain wrote,

Humanity plods onward seeking justice
On lazy by-ways of iniquity,
And the deceits and errors of today
Tomorrow’s truth will serve.

This is just one example that springs to mind. It is a long-running theme in Christianity.

The second point, though, while better known, seems to get less attention in the context of the harrowing, mysterious reality of evil. We know full well that

The Truth is not what we judge by ourselves but is Someone who judges us by his love,

as Cardinal Lustiger said. We know that we cannot judge, lest we be judged, too. But how often is the thought mentioned when someone is grappling with the nearly debilitating, suffocating reality of evil as a mysterious reality in the world? Not often enough, I think.

But it’s relevant. I can’t imagine taking either of these points separately. They go together: God brings about a greater good; do not judge.

These two points, together, mean that God knows what he permits. That’s the formulation that strikes me: God knows what he permits. He knows what evil he permits to bring about a greater good. But moreover, he knows these evils in what they really and fully are; we do not. We can only see the tip of the iceberg, and even that we cannot judge accurately.

Thrown into the world’s churning waters, which could drown us on all sides, there is a fundamental truth – or two, or more – in these words: God knows what he permits. These words are great comfort. Hold on. Just keep going. Do what must be done. Just listen to God in his Word and through others. Just let the Holy Spirit work. God knows. Trust. Complete and utter confidence in the face of evil. God knows what he permits.

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