When Faith Meets Philosophy
A blog that explores philosophy through the lens of Christian faith.
An Introduction
I am an instructor of Philosophy at a community college in central Kansas: I am also a lover of Christian Theology and—first and foremost—of God. In the short time that I have been teaching Philosophy, I have learned that it is not uncommon for people (Christians, mostly) to see the two disciplines as incompatible, opponents, even. I have had students question more than once how I, as a believer in Christ, can with good conscience teach Philosophy and Ethics at a secular institution.
I happen to believe that Philosophy and Theology work hand-in-hand quite beautifully (for the most part). Of course, there are times when the two must part ways, and there are certainly times when Philosophy simply runs out of logical answers. (And there are times when some philosophies seem to have abandoned logical thought altogether, but that’s another topic for another day!) Those are often the times when Theology steps in and gracefully completes the picture. Not because Theology doesn’t depend on logic—be quite assured of the opposite. Understand, however, that it is not human logic upon which Theology stands, but logic that transcends that of the human mind. And yet, because He is good and kind and merciful, and has placed Himself as one of us, God wraps His God-logic in ideas that the human mind is able to grasp if one is willing to believe that they are possible.
This is called faith.
Not blind belief or suspension of all logical thinking, but a willingness to believe that something different, something higher, is possible.
My hope with this blog is to explore some of the concepts of Philosophy from a theological perspective, looking at them through a lens of Christian faith. Philosophy as a discipline is not evil, it is not corrupt, it is simply the pursuit of wisdom. The word itself means, “the love of wisdom.” Yes, Colossians chapter two warns against allowing your mind to be taken captive by philosophy and deceitful thought. Take heed to this warning and submit each philosophical idea to the authority of the Holy Spirit. Allow Him to root out true wisdom from empty ideas but also trust that God as the Giver of All that is Good has given humankind much intellectual insight that is worth exploring.
Romans chapter two tells us that we can be transformed by the renewing of our minds. The partnering of philosophical and theological studies will allow us to do just that. It will require effort, an open mind, and a depth of humility, but in the end, I believe the pursuit will be well worth the payoff.
Worship Matters: The Collective Identity of the Church, Part 2
April 26, 2026
In my last post, The Collective Identity of the Church, Part 1, I introduced to you the idea that the members of the Christian Church must understand ourselves not as individuals, but each as part of the collective reality of the Church. I emphasized that we must surrender our need for individual identity and validation and adopt instead the collective identity of the church.
Today I want to connect the claims I made in that post with Biblical evidence of the Church's identity as the particular and set-apart people of God, making connections between the New Testament Church and the Old Testament people of Israel and exploring the imagery of the Church as a Body. I want to help you see the collective nature of our identity, and the importance of living into that collective identity.
1 Peter 2:4-10—The Church and OT Israel
In his first epistle, the Apostle Peter provides a solid foundation for the Church’s understanding of its identity as a collective entity. The recipients of the letter were believers who had been scattered throughout the region of Asia Minor and subjected to various trials and tribulations, and were questioning the Gospel and their inclusion in the Church. Peter wrote in order to establish and affirm these believers' self-understanding as the people of God, with this being the dominant theme of 1 Peter 2:4-10. The believers needed to remember who they were. The imagery used in this text, particularly in verses nine and ten, points back to the collective identity of the Jewish people as the chosen nation of Israel and ties the identity of the Church to the identity of Israel in significant ways.
Peter writes in 1 Peter 2:9: “But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s special possession, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light.” The connection to Exodus 19:5-6 is obvious, even with only a quick glance at the Old Testament text: “Now if you obey me fully and keep my covenant, then out of all nations you will be my treasured possession. Although the whole earth is mine, you will be for me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation…” Any in Peter’s audience who were Jewish in their spiritual and national heritage would have heard those descriptors—chosen people, royal priesthood, holy nation, and special possession—and would have immediately made the association with the Mosaic covenant, with God’s setting apart of the Israelite nation for a particular and holy purpose. Peter’s use of this imagery asserts that “the Christian Church has now inherited the peculiar character and privileges of Israel.”(1) Namely, they would have understood that the Church as a collective whole was the holy, set-apart people of God.
Paul's teaching in Galatians chapters three and four reinforces Peter's claim that the Church is the continuation of the people of Israel. In these chapters, Paul describes the Law (i.e., the Mosaic Law) as the “guardian” over the children of Israel, given to provide instruction and training until the time was right for Israel to receive the inheritance as fully adopted sons (and daughters). This adoption was accomplished through the redemption of Christ, and Paul addresses the believers in Galatia as those who have received the inheritance.
In this text, Paul uses imagery of childhood and immaturity. Galatians 4:3 says, “…when we were underage…” or “when we were children,” communicating the idea of an underage person who can’t make decisions for himself or herself because they lack the maturity and the authority to do so. This “minor”—i.e., Israel—was still in need of the supervision and care of the guardian. However, by the redemptive work of Christ, this underage heir was brought into fullness of maturity and with that maturity came the full inheritance of sonship. This “heir” is now known as the Church. The essential identity of the people has not changed; it has only grown into its mature realization through the power of Christ.
The Body of Christ
The next piece that needs to be connected is the imagery Paul uses multiple times to depict the New Testament Church, which is that of a body. It is common among Christians to refer to the Church universal as "the body of Christ," and it is not unusual even for an individual congregation to refer to itself as the "local body." It is an image that we are so accustomed to using, though, that I fear we've become blind to what it actually represents.
Paul briefly utilizes the image of a body in reference to the church in his letters to the Romans, Ephesians, and Colossians, but it is in his first letter to the Corinthians that he provides the most detailed application. First Corinthians 12:12-14 reads, “Just as a body, though one, has many parts, but all its many parts form one body, so it is with Christ. For we were all baptized by one Spirit so as to form one body—whether Jews or Gentiles, slave or free—and we were all given the one Spirit to drink. Even so the body is not made up of one part but of many.” The image continues through the end of chapter twelve, discussing the role and value of the distinct aspects of the body, but also reminding the readers that even with those distinctions, the body functions as a whole.
As a body, the Church as a whole is meant to function as if it is itself an individual, not as a collection of individuals. Dietrich Bonhoeffer calls this the “collective person,”(2) and describes how this type of community has an identity distinct from the identities of the individuals who form it. The identity of the “collective person” of the Church is two-fold: First, it was and has always been the reality revealed by God. God created the Church as a communal (a.k.a. collective) reality from the beginning. Second, the Church is specifically identified as the “Body of Christ.” This insinuates much more than membership in a group of people for whom faith in Christ is a common denominator. Bonhoeffer takes the image a step further, claiming that the identity of the “collective person” of the Church is that of Christ himself. “Bonhoeffer asserted that from the sinful individuals who comprise this assembly God forges a new creation that constitutes the collective person, Jesus Christ…Christ existing in the form of church-community.”(3) The identity of the Church, as a “collective person,” is Christ himself revealed in the here and now.
Paul uses this collective image of the body to represent the Church in order to move believers’ understanding of their own identity away from one of individual autonomy and toward the reality that they are now part of this wonderful and singular identity. Each individual has value and place within the collective body, but that value is intricately connected to their inclusion in the body. Individual identity is secondary to corporate identity. Paul exhorts believers to recognize that every element of the body is necessary and desired so that no one part is excluded or cut off by another. Wrapped in this message is an exhortation for today’s Church to understand themselves in light of the whole body and to stop acting in ways that inadvertently amputate themselves from it.
Why It Matters
Maybe you're wondering why this conversation even matters. Why is it so important that Christ followers understand themselves in light of the entire Body rather than as one of the individuals who comprises that body? What's the big deal?
The significance of this conversation lies in the fact that an improper understanding of identity shifts our understanding of the Gospel itself, moving it drastically off-center. An individualistic view of self narrows our view of God's salvation, puts constraints and limitations on His goodness and mercy, and replaces Jesus with "self" as the main character in God's story.
These repercussions of individualism should be sobering enough on their own, but they produce additional consequences that are just as grievous. When God's people view themselves only as individuals and neglect the collective nature of our identity, we become our own roadblock to fulfilling the purpose and calling of the Church. We become entangled in ourselves and our own affairs, and fail to live out the Good News of Christ in and for the world. We cannot "act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with our God" if we are primarily focused on ourselves and the way Christ benefits us.
What we believe—about ourselves, about God, and about the Church—matters.
In my next post, I will explore these implications of individualism more thoroughly and share with you why I am so passionate about shifting our perspective toward a collective mindset.
Until next time, grace and peace to you and yours.
________________________
1. E.G. Selwyn. The First Epistle of St Peter, (New York: Macmillan & Co, 1955), 278.
2. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Sanctorum Communio: A Theological Study of the Sociology of the Church, ed. Clifford J. Green, trans. Reinhard Krauss and Nancy Lukens (Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress, 1998), 103-105.
3. Craig L. Nessan, “What If the Church Really is the Body of Christ?,” Dialog: A Journal of Theology 51, no. 1 (2012): 45.
Worship Matters: The Collective Identity of the Church, Part 1
March 22, 2026
I know this is my “Philosophy and Faith” blog, but today I want to write just from a “faith” perspective. I want to share something that has been on my heart and mind for quite some time now and that has become a driving force in my faith life as well as my academic life.
A little over a week ago, I received a letter of acceptance into a PhD program at Fuller Theological Seminary. This fall, I plan to begin pursuing a PhD in Theological Studies, focusing on Christian Ethics. Of course, this fits perfectly within the realm of the courses that I currently teach, with Ethics being its own branch of philosophy and one of the more popular classes that I teach each semester. More importantly, this stream of study will allow me to pursue research concerning areas of justice and social justice that have become near and dear to me over the last several years. Specifically, I plan to explore the gap between God’s calling for His people to care for the widows, orphans, foreigners, and the poor and how the Church acts (or fails to act) in those areas on behalf of Christ in today’s American society.
I believe that the Church’s fulfillment of her calling as the Body of Christ begins with a proper understanding of her identity, God’s goodness, and the Gospel of Jesus, and that the living out of her calling begins with worship that flows out of that proper understanding. And the more time I spend worshiping with various evangelical congregations in my area of the country, the more I am convinced that we are missing the mark.
There are many pieces to this conversation, more than I can make space for in one blog post, so bear with me as I build my argument and my theology over the course of several posts.
The first piece: A Collective Identity.
Because the American church is full of American people who were raised to value American ideals, we are really good individualists. We value privacy and independence. We’re a “pull yourself up by the bootstraps” kind of people who don’t need to depend on anyone for anything. Asking for help is not just humbling, it is humiliating and considered only as a last resort. We’re also proud of our achievements and believe credit should be given where credit is due. We want our voices to be heard, and we fight for our worth as individuals.
Yes, we are quite proficient individualists.
Unfortunately, as members of the Church, we were not called to be individualists, but rather we were called to lose our individualism for the sake of the Body of Christ.
Please don’t tune me out.
I am not saying that we are meant to become faceless conformists who lose all sense of individual value and worth. I am saying that we are meant to understand our worth and our identity as part of the collective Body of Christ. The Apostle Paul uses the image of the human body to represent the Church multiple times in his letters, but his description in 1 Corinthians 12 is the most descriptive. In this chapter, he discusses the role and value of the distinct aspects of the body, but also reminds his readers that even with those distinctions, the body functions as a whole.
Paul uses this collective image of the body to represent the Church in order to move believers’ understanding of their own identity away from one of individual autonomy and toward the reality that they are now part of this wonderful and singular identity. Each individual has value and place within the collective body, but that value is intricately connected to their inclusion in the body. Individual identity is secondary to corporate identity. Paul exhorts believers to recognize that every element of the body is necessary and desired so that no one part is excluded or cut off by another. Wrapped in this message is an exhortation for today’s Church to understand themselves in light of the whole body and to stop acting in ways that inadvertently amputate themselves from it.
It is so challenging for us to adopt a collective mindset because the individualist mindset in ingrained in us from birth, it is woven into the fabric of our culture. It feels wrong to relinquish individualism and all that it entails. Who among us has not desired personal validation, a sense of self-worth, and acknowledgement of personal achievement? Who among us has not felt the need to be loved simply for who we are and found comfort in the thought that God provides that personal, relational love? It seems extremely counterintuitive to claim this as false and to abandon wholly any sense of individual place within Christ and the Church. Must the individual identity be cast aside in every sense in order to correctly and completely adopt a collective self-understanding?
We ask this question because we simply don’t know how to think outside an individualist framework. We don’t know how to operate in any other way. But if we could break free from the confines of individualism, we would find that the value of the individual is found in belonging to the whole. Paul used the imagery of the human body, allow me to use the image of a jigsaw puzzle. A puzzle is only complete when every piece is present, which means each piece is vital. Each piece may have beauty and interest of its own, but it is of little value until it is added to the entire puzzle. Value, then, is found when each piece of the puzzle comes together to form the complete picture contained in the puzzle. This is the collective nature of the Church.
But why does it matter whether we view ourselves as individuals or as a collective? Does our self-understanding really have that much influence on how we live out our calling as the Church?
Yes, unequivocally. Our self-understanding has a tremendous influence on how we understand God, the Gospel of Christ, and how we fit into God’s story. And the way we understand those three things determines how we worship, and how we worship directs how we respond to the calling and mission of God.
How we see ourselves matters. How we worship matters.
There is still so much more to talk about concerning the Church’s identity as the particular and set-apart people of God. Next time I’ll dive into 1 Peter and do a comparison between the Church and the people of Israel. From there, I’ll move forward into what it looks like to worship as the collective people of God.
Until then, grace and peace to you.
Human Dignity and the Image of God
February 22, 2026
The Enlightenment was a really interesting time in human history. That period produced some fantastic thinkers that shaped history and politics, and whose thinking still have influence today: John Locke, David Hume, Thomas Paine, even Benjamin Franklin. One such thinker that we spend a fair amount of time talking about in my classes is Immanuel Kant.
Kant is probably most well known for his ethical theory which centered around the concept of universal moral principles, otherwise known as the Categorical Imperative. Kant was a firm believer in concrete moral facts and taught that each human had a duty to live according to those moral facts. His was a rigid theory that placed no value in the outcome of one’s actions but located moral value fully in the intention that preceded an act. For the black-and-white, “check the box” type thinker, his was a theory that was actually pretty convenient, as the “dos” and “do-nots” were fairly obvious.
Unfortunately, Kant’s theory left no wiggle-room for situations where doing the “right” thing might cause more harm than not doing it, or for situations where the black and white blurred into a fuzzy shade of gray. Moral facts are moral facts, whether you like them or not, and regardless of the outcome that results in following them.
That’s a pretty tough moral stance to get behind.
But before we throw out the entire theory, there’s one more piece that is worth noting. The second part of Kant’s Categorical Imperative says to treat human beings always as an end and never merely as a means. In other words, remember that people are people, not tools.
Remember that people are meant to be regarded with dignity and respect.
Remember that people are not meant to be used only for your own benefit, but should always been seen for their own worth and value as humans.
In the church we say it this way: remember that every person has been created in the image of God.
Every person.
No matter what color, what nationality, socioeconomic status, gender, orientation, age, size, political affiliation…
Every. Person.
Friends, our world needs to be reminded of this principle. Our culture has forgotten what it means to look at another human and see a person. We look at one another and see disagreement. We see difference. We see opportunity. We see something worth despising. Or manipulating for our own benefit. Or maybe just something that is in the way, an inconvenience.
We have forgotten to see faces. We have forgotten that inside every chest, a heart beats. Inside every skull, a mind turns. Inside every person’s veins, the same red blood runs through. We all love, we all want to be loved. We all celebrate, and we all grieve. We all hope, and we all worry. We are all human.
I encourage my students to remember that behind every frustrating interaction with another human is a real person who is trying to live life just like we are. I encourage them to respond in difficult situations with kindness, treating others with dignity and respect even in their worst moments.
As a Christ-follower, I work daily to remind myself that every human I see, every person I interact with was formed in the image of our Creator, that they—like David—were formed with wonder and care in their mother’s womb (Ps. 139:13-14). It’s so easy to forget and to treat people like they’re worth less simply because they make me uncomfortable, or because I disagree with them, or because something else makes me think they don’t deserve to be treated with dignity. Shame on me.
If I want to always be treated with dignity and respect, I must also treat others always with dignity and respect. So in everything, do to others as you would have them do to you… (Matt. 7:12). In philosophy this is called the “reciprocity principle.” Kant called it a universal maxim, which, ironically, brings us back to the first formulation of his Categorical Imperative.
Kant was not a Christian. In fact, he worked purposefully to develop a moral theory that didn’t rely on religion as its basis. (He was, after all, a good Enlightenment thinker.) His parents were Christian, though, and like it or not, the principles of his parents’ faith made it into his moral thinking. There is certainly much to value in Kant’s perspective, especially when his principles are laid back on the foundation of the real Truth founded in scripture.
We must always treat people as an end and never merely as a means, for every person was created in the image of God. For that reason alone, they deserve our respect and our kindness.
Shalom.
Think First
February 15, 2026
I’ve been lost in my own thoughts a great deal of late, wrestling with what the media is telling me is happening in the world and in my country, knowing that the media only ever provides a strongly biased report from one angle or another and that I can never really know the truth of what is happening. The only thing I am absolutely sure of is that chaos, anger, and a huge portion of emotionally charged rhetoric has become the status-quo for the American public in the twenty-first century.
It is difficult in the midst of so much noise to distinguish the voice of God.
How do we discern truth from pseudo-truth? How do we filter out the silt in order to find gems? Better yet, how do we know conclusively that we’ve found gold and not fool’s gold?
For some reason, the chorus of the old 80’s song Listen to Your Heart by Roxette has been playing on repeat in my mind for the last couple of weeks. I can guarantee you, the lyrics to that song are not true gold; they do not provide the kind of advice we should rely on as we’re trying to sort through the cacophony of information that accosts us from every angle.
Jeremiah 17:9 is often quoted as a warning against trusting your heart. “The heart is deceitful above all things…” “Heart” in this context, particularly considering the Hebrew concept of personhood, is a reference to much more than just a person’s emotions. Verse ten clarifies the concept when it partners “heart” with a Hebrew word that the NIV has translated as “mind,” but really comes closer to meaning “inner person.” Paired together, we can understand that the innerworkings of a person—both thoughts and emotions—are interconnected rather than disconnected one from the other. So while it’s not 100% false that a person’s emotions shouldn’t necessarily be trusted to lead in decision-making, they are not fully distinct from a person’s thoughts.
So can a person’s thoughts be trusted, either?
Romans 12:2 puts a stronger value on the intellectual aspect of human personhood: “Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.” How do we discern what is truth? Well, it appears that engaging our intellect is a key element of the process.
Here’s where I’m going to bring a little bit of philosophy into the conversation. St. Thomas Aquinas (13th Century Italian monk) was both a theologian and a philosopher. His greatest theological work, Summa Theologiae, contains no fewer than 3,000 pages, and details his ethical theory known as Natural Law Theory. Part of that theory is the claim that humankind is created with an inherent purpose, or telos, which is to “live according to reason.”
In other words, we were created to be thinkers. To use our brains.
When you go to church, use your intellectual capacity to discern whether what you are hearing aligns with Scripture. But also, use that same intellect to discern whether the lyrics you’re singing have that same theological accuracy and depth. (In other words, don’t turn your brain off when the music starts.)
When you open your social media app and read a post or watch a video, utilize your ability to reason out whether what you are reading and seeing is true, how much bias it might contain, and how it is designed to enflame emotions before you allow yourself to respond or react to it.
When you encounter new information or just a new presentation of information, before you allow your emotions to react, allow your mind to sift through and separate truth from non-truth.
Emotions don’t need to be ignored or completely disregarded, but they definitely should be tempered by intellect.
But now let me give some qualification to this entire conversation. Remember that Jeremiah 17 shows us that at some level, a person’s thoughts are as fallible as his or her emotions.
Let’s go back to Romans 12:2 – “…be transformed by the renewing of your mind…”
While Aquinas taught that humans are created with a natural reasoning capacity and that certain "moral codes” are built into the human makeup, Romans 12:2 tells us that we have to do the work of educating our minds in order to have the framework from which to discern God’s will. Our minds are flooded every day with information, so we have to be purposeful about absorbing and assimilating the right kind of information. If we want to be able to distinguish truth from untruth, we have to know the characteristics of truth; we cannot simply decide from our own thoughts what we believe should be true and what shouldn’t.
Renew your mind. Through reading and study of Scripture. Through listening to trusted teachers of the Word. Through conversations with other believers who are also engaged in the same practices. Through willfully choosing to let your mind be formed in the ways of Christ.
“Do not conform to the pattern of this world…” Don’t allow yourself to become a person of empty, emotionally driven, reactive rhetoric.
“…but be transformed by the renewing of your mind…” Do allow your mind, your thought patterns, your worldview, your perspective to be formed by Scripture and by the wisdom of others who are sincerely engaging the Word.
“…Then…” (and only then) “…you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.”
The Problem of Suffering
February 8, 2026
Suffering is an undeniable part of the human experience. In philosophy, we equate suffering with evil, which—interestingly enough—is not a concrete connection that I make theologically. The problem with this sort of “evil,” philosophically speaking, is that it is extremely difficult (impossible, even) to reconcile the conflict with the nature of God and the presence of evil in the form of human suffering. How can a God who is all-powerful (omnipotent) and all-good (omnibenevolent) allow suffering to persist, especially in the measure at which it persists in our world?
This conflict between the reality of the human experience and the claim of Judeo-Christian believers regarding the nature of God has been a stumbling block for many people throughout history. I, myself, have been asked, “How can I believe in a God who would allow such things?”
And I’ll be honest: my heart empathizes with those who ask this. I want to cry out to God and say, “You could stop all of this, you know!” It really just doesn’t make any sense.
Philosophers and theologians alike have tried to craft logical solutions to the conflict. We call these solutions “theodicies.” A British religious philosopher by the name of John Hick developed what has become one of the most well-known theodicies over the years: the soul-making theodicy. Simply put, he proposes that human suffering is the tool or framework that provides the necessary conditions for humans to experience spiritual formation, moving them toward the image of God. (His full perspective is certainly more complex than this, but I am attempting to summarize his theodicy without chasing the trail of his full theology.)
Hicks’ theodicy has a number of flaws that I find irreconcilable, but for the sake of brevity, I will discuss only two of them here today:
First, Hick’s view proposes that human suffering is the will and design of God. If it is necessary in order to bring individuals into closer proximity to himself, which is according to his will or desire, then suffering must be by his design. This is incongruous with his benevolent nature. Anyone who has ever witnessed true and deep suffering firsthand understands experientially that to inflict such suffering is not a benevolent act. Indeed, this reality is part of the “problem of evil” in the first place. Hick’s theory does not solve the conflict between the reality of evil and the benevolent nature of God.
I propose instead that God redeems such suffering, reclaiming it from the power of evil and using it for good. James 1:2-4 speaks of the power of trials and tribulations in the formation of one’s faith, and the Apostle Paul’s life and ministry are a testament to the formative value of suffering. But formation comes not from the suffering itself, but from our response to it. Yielded and surrendered to God, even the worst experiences can be redeemed and made holy. (Isaiah 61:3)
Second, suffering was not part of God’s original design for creation. It was introduced as a consequence only after humans made the choice to listen to and believe the voice of someone other than God. The perfection of God’s original creation is detailed in the creation narratives in the first two chapters of Genesis, and suffering—including the first sacrificial death—is introduced in the “fall” narrative in chapter three.
Hick, however, denies a literal interpretation of Genesis 1-3, claiming instead that humans were created as less than perfect with a need for continual progress toward the divine image. Suffering, then, was inherent in creation as the catalyst for that progress. Hick’s view again works against the view of God as omnibenevolent, for if God looked at all of his creation and called it “good,” as described in Genesis 1, and that creation included suffering, then he has called “good” that which is evil. This is in itself a malevolent act, rendering omnibenevolence void.
If God is truly all-good, he cannot have included suffering in his original design for creation.
God did, however, include in his design of humankind the element of free will. The freedom to choose. And in order to have the freedom to choose, there must be options to choose from. He gave humankind two: to choose God, to choose to believe that his instructions were good and that his words were true, which would result in one “consequence” or outcome; or to choose to believe the words of another, who claimed that God was a liar, which would result in an entirely different consequence.
Belief motivates actions, and anyone who has read Genesis 3 knows whose words humankind chose to believe. They chose to believe the “other” and they acted on that belief.
With that one act, the perfection of creation was broken, and it couldn’t be undone. What seemed like one tiny crack shattered the entire reality, and humankind will live with the consequence until the end of time.
That consequence is suffering.
Suffering in the form of disease and sickness and the breakdown of the human body.
Suffering in the form of natural disaster and the breakdown of the natural world.
Suffering in the form of humans hurting and abusing one another and the breakdown of the human soul.
Suffering was not part of God’s design for the world. He created a world of perfection for us, but we chose to trade it away on the chance that he was lying to us.
In his omnipotence, God could remove our suffering, undoubtedly. But part of his goodness to us is his consistent adherence to his word. He promised that to choose to believe a voice other than his would have deep consequences, and now we are living with the consistent application of those consequences.
But in his goodness, God has also entered into our consequences with us—he has entered into our suffering and has not let us suffer alone. (Philippians 2:6-8) He has entered our suffering so that by it, we may be made whole again. (Isaiah 53:5) He has entered our suffering so that suffering itself one day will be abolished. (Revelation 21:1-4)
I know it is so very hard to reconcile the reality of suffering with the concept of a good and powerful God, especially when the suffering is deep and when the evil seems so overwhelming. Most theodicies seem grossly inadequate in the face of true suffering. I don’t pretend to have the perfect answer to the conflict, but I do know that I can’t place the “guilt” of suffering on God’s shoulders. God’s goodness is not nullified by the reality of suffering; it is heightened by his willingness to enter into it with us. Nor does suffering prove him impotent; Jesus’ victory over death and the grave have already proven the power that will be on display when God determines that suffering has had its last word. That day will come, rest assured.
Today I want to leave you with these words from 1 Peter, words of hope written to a group of people who were well-acquainted with suffering:
Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade. This inheritance is kept in heaven for you, who through faith are shielded by God’s power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time. In all this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, for you are receiving the end result of your faith, the salvation of your souls. ~ 1 Peter 1: 3-9
The Origin of the Good
January 19, 2026
Is that which is good made good by God, or does he name “good” that which is already good?
This is a question that my ethics students will have to wrestle with this week. At first glance, maybe it doesn’t seem like a terribly difficult question to answer. But to a philosopher, to a person dealing with logical, deductive arguments, it actually creates quite a conundrum.
Let me back up a minute and set up the framework.
This question is posed within the context of theologically based ethics, or ethics that depend on a theistic religious perspective as the framework for ethical decision making. Religion has been the most relied-upon ethical framework throughout history, so it is a valuable place to start when you’re studying ethics.
Theism typically involves belief in a God that is described using “omni-properties” or what we call “necessary attributes.” The main three that come into the discussion in philosophy are omnipotence (meaning “all-powerful”), omniscience (“all-knowing”) and omnibenevolence (“all-good”). The claim is that in order for God to be God, all three of these necessary attributes must be in place; otherwise, belief in God as a deity is not justified.
In Ethics (a branch of philosophy), the discussion of morality brings into question omnipotence and omnibenevolence. The conflict arises when the origin of morality is questioned.
Here’s the argument:
If God determines what is morally good (“pious”), then he is able to arbitrarily decide to make “good” whatever he chooses. It is within his power (omnipotence) to do so, but can he truly claim to be all-good (omnibenevolent) if he is able to call “good” whatever he wants with no boundaries or constraints?
If God merely names “good” that which was made good outside his power, he does not truly have power over all (omnipotence), for something outside of himself had creative and authoritative power over which he did not rule.
So the argument says that God is either not omnipotent or not omnibenevolent, but to render void either of these attributes is to strip God of his divinity.
And here philosophy is often stumped. The original claim has been shown to be faulty, so the correct response is to reform the claim so that the flaws are addressed and then start again. But how do we fix this claim without changing the very nature of God himself?
Just as a refresher, here’s the original claim: In order for God to be God, he must be omnipotent, omniscient, and omnibenevolent.
Can we remove omnipotence or omnibenevolence and still have a God who is trustworthy, approachable, and worthy of worship and devotion? I don’t believe so.
Another option is to simply say that because God is not a created being, he is not bound by the logic of created beings.
Maybe this is not entirely false, but I’m not sure it’s entirely true, either.
What I do think is that philosophy just comes up short. It runs out of answers.
It needs the help of another angle.
It needs theology.
Now, please understand that theologically based ethics and the accompanying dilemma are not limited to any one religion. All theistic religions find themselves faced with this problem. But I’m going to speak to it now from a Christian theological perspective.
I started my post with this question: Is that which is good made good by God, or does he name “good” that which is already good?
My answer to this question is a simple, “Yes.” Because God both creates that which is good and he names it.
That settles the issue of his omnipotence, but it still leaves in question his omnibenevolence. Does God arbitrarily decide what gets to be “good?”
To this I would counter with another question: is the God attested to in scripture one of arbitrary action, standards, and character, or does he display consistency in all of these areas?
The first time we meet God in the Old Testament, we see him acting and naming the outcome of his action as good. This first act was, of course, creation. Not destruction, which we as humans intuitively understand to be “bad,” but creation, which we understand as “good.” His commands for his people consistently upheld the value of life, care for others, and reverence for himself. The things that angered him were the things that devalued life, that took advantage of others, and disregarded himself. He was in no way arbitrary.
We also must understand that the goodness that is inherent in God’s character can beget only goodness. How can one who is “all-good” determine that something contrary to his own nature should be understood as good? To assume not only the possibility but also the actuality is itself an illogical contradiction. (This is actually a philosophical argument based on a theological assumption.)
The dilemma created by the conflict between omnipotence and omnibenevolence was most famously debated in Plato’s Euthyphro, a work that was written in Greece in 5th Century BCE. This was a time when polytheism was at its height, and the gods were understood more as reflections of imperfect human character than as divine perfection. It would have been expected for a “deity” to be inconsistent and contradictory in his or her actions and responses to humans. The consistent and faithful character of Yahweh would have been a difficult concept for someone in Plato’s culture to accept.
The God of the Bible, however, is not a reflection of human character, but the perfect form or pattern of what humans were intended to be. (Plato would have appreciated that analogy.) God is consistent ~ Malachi 3:6. His character is not contradictory, and he does not act in ways that are contradictory ~Hebrews 13:8. Therefore, we can trust him to be consistently good ~ James 1:17.
This dilemma in ethics is one place where philosophy and theology don’t seem to get along with each other well. But when you take a closer look, it becomes apparent that philosophy actually needs theology in order to answer the question completely. Without theology, philosophy is left without satisfactory answers. Even Euthyphro ends without coming to any real resolution. But when invited to the conversation, theology fills the gap and brings about a quite logical response (in my opinion) to this difficult dilemma.