Can God Be Good If Evil Exists?
- Emily Brubaker
- 2 minutes ago
- 8 min read

The problem of evil presents one of the most profound intellectual and existential challenges to the Christian faith. Philosophers, apologists, and theologians throughout history have struggled to reconcile the existence of evil with belief in a good, omnipotent, and sovereign God. From Augustine to Aquinas and beyond, the question persists: Why does a loving God allow so much suffering in His creation? My conviction, grounded in Scripture and the Christian moral vision, is that evil entered the world through human rebellion at the Fall and was not part of God’s original design. Yet, in His infinite wisdom, God has chosen not to eradicate evil immediately but to redeem and transform it through the atoning work of His Son, Jesus Christ. Thus, this paper will argue that God allows the existence of evil and suffering as a consequence of human freedom and fallenness, yet He sovereignly redeems these realities to display His glory, accomplish redemption, and sanctify believers through a process that culminates in eternal restoration. This view harmonizes the biblical narrative with the insights of classical and contemporary Christian philosophers who maintain that evil serves morally sufficient purposes within God’s providential order. Ultimately, evil is neither coeternal with God nor outside His control but functions as a temporary means through which His justice, mercy, and redemptive love are made manifest.
Evil as the Consequences of the Fall
According to the biblical narrative, evil entered creation through the disobedience of Adam and Eve, whose sin fractured the original harmony between God and humanity. Genesis 1:31 declares that creation was “very good,” revealing that evil was neither part of God’s intention nor inherent to His design for man. Unfortunately, the Fall represents a tragic misuse of human freedom, specifically an act of rebellion that brought moral, spiritual, and physical corruption into the world. As Adams and Adams observe, “The possibility of moral evil is built into the very structure of a world that contains free rational creatures.” Essentially, their analysis underscores that the potential for defection is inseparable from the gift of freedom itself. Evil, therefore, is not a “thing” or "entity" that God created but a deprivation of the good, specifically a parasitic corruption of the moral order God established. Similarly, Feinberg echoes this distinction, emphasizing that God’s permission of evil does not imply moral complicity. He writes, “God’s holiness is not compromised by His allowing sin, since His purposes transcend creaturely rebellion.” This recognition preserves divine goodness while explaining human responsibility. The Fall unleashed not only moral evil but also natural suffering (i.e., disease, decay, and death) all of which Scripture presents as consequences of humanity’s broken fellowship with God. For example, Romans 5:12-13 states, "Therefore, just as sin came into the world through one man, and death through sin, and so death spread to all men because all sinned - for sin indeed was in the world before the law was given, but sin is not counted where there is no law." (Romans 5:12-13, English Standard Version). Nevertheless, even in the midst of judgment, divine mercy emerges. God’s promise of redemption through the “seed of the woman” (Genesis 3:15) foreshadows Christ’s victory over sin and death, revealing that from the very beginning, God’s answer to evil was not annihilation but redemption of His people to Him.
Divine Goodness and the Coherence of God's Permission
A common perennial objection to theism asks why an omnipotent, benevolent God allows evil if He could prevent it. Fortunately, biblical scholars and theologians, such as Thomas Aquinas, offer profoundly compelling responses. For instance, Aquinas writes, “Since God is the highest good, He would allow no evil to exist in His works unless He were so powerful and good as to bring good even out of evil.” Essentially, Aquinas’s statement captures the essence of divine providence, which is that evil is permitted because God’s omnipotence extends even to transforming evil into the occasion for greater good. Moreover, Feinberg builds on this Thomistic principle, arguing that “...the moral government of God’s world is such that every instance of permitted evil contributes to the fulfillment of His final purposes.” This coherence between divine permission and moral goodness safeguards against the notion that evil is meaningless. Rather, each event of suffering participates, however mysteriously, in God’s redemptive plan, which is an uncomfortable truth to a world that believes it is more intelligent than God. Additionally, as Baggett and Campbell contend, divine goodness must be understood relationally, not abstractly. They state, “A perfectly good God is one who acts consistently with His loving and moral nature to bring His creatures into right relationship with Himself.” Thus, God’s allowance of evil thus functions within a personal, covenantal context, aiming at the restoration of relationship rather than mere philosophical resolution.
The Moral and Relational Dimensions of Evil
Lewis’s reflections on pain in The Problem of Pain provide a penetrating moral and pastoral dimension to this discussion. Lewis writes that “...pain is God’s megaphone to rouse a deaf world.” Suffering, for Lewis, is not merely punitive but revelatory because it awakens the moral conscience and directs humanity back to dependence on God. In this sense, evil becomes a catalyst for repentance and spiritual transformation. In a world full of suffering, believers must remember that their hope is anchored in a divine power that is greater than the satanic powers and principalities, which rule this present age. Without hope in Christ, it is easy for one to become cynical and despondent in the way he or she views man's purpose in the world. Furthermore, freedom and love are central to Lewis’s argument. “Try to exclude the possibility of suffering which the order of nature and the existence of free wills involve,” he observes, “and you find that you have excluded life itself.” Basically, Lewis is arguing that God allows moral freedom because love cannot exist without the possibility of rejection. True worship and obedience must be voluntary; therefore, moral risk is a necessary condition of moral goodness. Baggett and Campbell similarly develop this theme in their recent work, maintaining that “...a personal God who enters into human suffering provides the only framework in which pain and evil can yield moral growth.” Thus, the coherence of the Christian moral vision lies not in abstract theodicies but in the personal engagement of God with His creation. Ultimately, God’s redemptive love does not circumvent suffering but redeems it, producing humility, compassion, and virtue in those who trust Him.
The Role of Evil in Sanctification
Scripturally speaking, the book of Job exemplifies the sanctifying purpose of suffering. Job’s afflictions were not punitive but pedagogical, specifically a divine means of refining his faith and revealing God’s sovereignty. For instance, Feinberg interprets such trials as part of a larger divine pedagogy. He writes, “The sufferings of the righteous often serve purposes that transcend their immediate comprehension.” The restoration of Job demonstrates that even unexplained suffering is enveloped within divine wisdom, and man is not always meant to comprehend the reasoning behind his pain. It could be serving a divine purpose, which cannot be understood by the mind of mortal man. Moreover, Lewis connects this truth to Christ’s redemptive suffering when he proclaims, “The Son of God suffered unto death, not that men might not suffer, but that their sufferings might be like His.” Suffering, therefore, becomes a means of conformity to Christ, transforming believers into the likeness of the Savior who Himself learned obedience through what He suffered. Romans 8:28-29 reiterates this belief when it states, "And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose..."
The Christological Resolution of Evil
The cross of Christ stands as the ultimate answer to the problem of evil since nowhere else do divine justice and mercy converge so profoundly. Essentially, the crucifixion represents the culmination of human evil (i.e., the unjust execution of the only sinless man) and simultaneously the apex of divine love and redemption. As Aquinas affirms, “God allowed the evil of sin to bring about the good of redemption." Additionally, Baggett and Campbell echo this soteriological insight when they state, “The coherence of the Christian moral vision depends on the incarnational response of God, who enters the moral drama of suffering and evil to redeem it from within.” Thus, the cross demonstrates that the response of God to evil is not philosophical detachment but personal participation. Finally, Kettler highlights the theological paradox of divine providence at the cross when he asserts, “The same decree that permitted the crucifixion ordained its victory.” Evil, therefore, reaches its zenith at Calvary only to be decisively overturned in resurrection power.
Philosophical Coherence and Eschatological Hope
Personally speaking, a Christian theodicy must be more than a clever puzzle-solver; it must offer a morally serious account of why a good God permits real pain without trivializing it. The coherence of my view begins with the conviction that God created a world in which love is possible, and therefore freedom is real. Freedom, by its nature, carries the possibility of rebellion. For example, the Fall is not a footnote but the watershed moment in which creation’s moral fabric was torn. Yet, even as I affirm the gravity of evil, I also confess that God’s providence is big enough to incorporate evil’s rupture into a larger story of redemption. Philosophically, this means evil is neither ultimate nor gratuitous, but rather it is bounded, purposed, and destined for defeat. I find it essential to hold together two truths that sometimes feel like opposites: first, that evils are genuinely horrendous and cannot be waved away; second, that God can and does weave them into a tapestry of greater goods without compromising His holiness or our moral agency. In other words, God’s sovereignty is not the erasure of creaturely responsibility but the assurance that our broken choices are not the final author of reality. My own commitment is to resist any account that “solves” evil by denying its weight, just as I resist any despair that forgets the cross and the empty tomb. To conceptualize this, I lean on what has been called a “defeat” model of evil. Essentially, this model affirms that evils are not merely offset or balanced by compensating goods; rather, they are ultimately defeated or, taken up into, a redemptive order in which their very occurrence becomes the occasion for deeper goods that could not have been realized otherwise.
Eschatologically, this vision keeps me from cynicism and from naïveté. I do not expect a utopia engineered by human power, nor do I resign myself to the permanence of tragedy. Instead, I live in the tension of “already/not yet”: already reconciled to God, already indwelt by the Spirit, already tasting the powers of the age to come—yet not yet seeing the full renewal of creation. This hope is not escapism; it is moral fuel. It calls me to lament honestly, to love sacrificially, to persevere in holiness, and to witness to a kingdom where every tear will be wiped away and justice will roll down like waters. Practically, this framework shapes how I interpret my own hardships and the wounds of others. I seek to acknowledge real grief and sorrow while refusing to surrender the meaning of my suffering. More specifically, I pray and work for healing while trusting that God’s timing is wiser than my urgencies. When I cannot perceive any earthly resolution, however, I anchor myself in the promise that resurrection is not a metaphor but a destiny. Philosophically coherent and eschatologically charged, my theodicy rests on this confession: evil is a fierce intruder in God’s world, but it is not an eternal resident; by grace, it is being unmade, and one day, it will be no more.
Conclusion
The reality of evil and suffering challenges human understanding, but it does not annihilate the coherence of the Christian faith. While evil entered the world through human rebellion against a holy Creator, God in His providence chose to redeem mankind by sacrificing His only son for the atonement of man's sin. Through Christ’s suffering, death, and resurrection, evil has been decisively conquered and transformed into the means of salvation. For believers, suffering becomes the crucible of sanctification, a context for moral growth, and a foretaste of future glory. Ultimately, the Christian theodicy is not merely intellectual but profoundly relational, and this is the theodicy I adhere to. Moreover, it affirms that the God who allows suffering is the same God who bears it with and for us. Therefore, evil does not have the final word, but rather Christ does. God’s sovereign love ensures that even the darkest experiences of life serve to display His glory, purify His people, and anticipate the ultimate redemption of all creation through Jesus Christ.



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