What about Evil? A Defense of God’s Sovereign Glory, by Scott Christensen. Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 2020. xix + 544 pp. $39.99.
In 2016, Scott Christensen published What about Free Will?, a defense of compatibilism. The present volume builds on that work. Advocates of compatibilism must explain how God can simultaneously be fully sovereign, even over evil acts, without himself being guilty of sin. Christensen, having defended compatibilism broadly, now turns to the problem of evil more specifically. His ambition is a full-orbed theodicy: an explanation of God’s reasons for ordaining a world in which sin—and redemption—exist.
Christensen has offered compatibilist Christians a very valuable book. The first three chapters define and establish the problem of evil. Chapter 4 summarizes the task of giving an answer to the problem, distinguishing a defense from theodicy. Chapters 5 and 6 analyze and demonstrate the inadequacies (both biblical and logical) of the free will and greater-good defenses.
Chapter 7 is a concise summary of the biblical case for compatibilism. Chapters 8 and 9 probe more deeply into the objections to compatibilism, arguing that evil cannot be understood as existing outside God’s sovereignty and that God’s sovereignty does not erase human moral responsibility. Chapters 10 and 11 begin Christensen’s response to evil. The Christian answer to evil is not an abstract truth, a mere proposition that completes a satisfying syllogism. Rather, the Christian response is unavoidably a narrative—the one true narrative. Chapter 12 is the core chapter of the book. Here, Christensen argues that the narrative of history, in order to accomplish the goal of bringing the greatest glory to God, demands evil so that God can display his redemptive goodness. He builds his argument with four premises (282–87): (1) God’s ultimate purpose in creation is to supremely magnify his glory; (2) God’s glory is supremely magnified in the atoning work of Christ ([which] is the sole means of redemption); (3) redemption is unnecessary without the Fall; and, (4) therefore, the Fall is necessary to God’s ultimate purpose in creation.
Christensen’s name for this approach is the “greater-glory theodicy.” The core of his argument is robustly biblical and theocentric. Fundamentally, God has ordained a world with what Christensen terms a “J-shaped” trajectory of redemptive history. From the Edenic creation, Adam’s sin plunges all of Creation into a fallen state. Christ’s incarnation, suffering, and resurrection bring redemption, not merely restoring creation to its original condition, but raising it to a higher level compared to where it started.
This final state is higher than the beginning not only with regard to the goodness of redeemed creation (for instance, that glorified man is no longer able to fall) but because it better displays God’s glory than would an unfallen world. Christensen believes that defenses of evil rooted in the good of the creation fail to capture the central point: that God has ordained this world because its unfolding history draws the greatest attention to his own perfections, particularly his mercy and grace.
Christensen continues his argument by tracing the redemptive storyline in Scripture (chap. 13) and then spending three rich chapters meditating on the fullness of redemption in the work of Jesus Christ (chaps. 14–16). His concluding chapter is practical, arguing that those who grasp these truths are best equipped to live faithfully in spite of the hardships of this age.
This is a book that will help equip compatibilists to be ready with an answer to the most significant antitheistic argument. Christensen’s commitment to biblical authority, and especially his unapologetic commitment to the centrality of God’s glory, is a welcome corrective to a discussion that too often makes man and his comfort the central concern.
With these commendations, there are some points of emphasis in Christensen’s book with which I am not fully comfortable. Although Christensen rightly acknowledges the mystery and paradox that is an inevitable element of any theodicy, I am concerned that his confidence in the truth of the greater-glory theology (which I share) leads him to use language that washes some of the evil from evil. He embraces the notion of the felix culpa (the fortunate fall) with some fervor: “It is impossible to imagine a grander hero. And so we are compelled to cry out: “O felix culpa! that demanded such a magnificent Redeemer!” (299). Although the expression has a long history and it is certainly intelligible within a greater-glory theodicy, I do not see biblical warrant for rejoicing that the Fall occurred.
In addition, Christensen makes God’s glory in judgment something less than his glory in redemption. It is good and right to speak of God’s glory in redemption and grace. It is true that God has permitted/ ordained the Fall so that he might display his mercy and grace against the backdrop of sin. Because sin merits damnation, God’s redemption, saving a people from that damnation, does indeed give us a perception of the grace of God we would not have otherwise.
While Christensen does recognize some value in a divine-judgment defense, his predominant emphasis is that God’s judgment is a necessary backdrop against which the beauty of his redemptive grace is seen more clearly. These quotes are typical: “Thus, the maximization of divine glory—and this is what the greater-glory theodicy argues—is connected to two important realities. First, maximal love to God’s creatures is uniquely displayed in his mercy, which requires that evil be experienced by others. Second, this mercy is further maximized when contrasted with those who get what they deserve—divine wrath. And this contrast between wrath and mercy highlights and maximizes God’s glory in ways that could not happen otherwise” (338). “The severer the judgment, the sweeter the mercy. The sweeter the mercy, the greater the glory—glory certainly for the believer, but preeminently the glory magnifying the supremacy of our mighty God” (423).
I contend that Christensen’s greater-glory theodicy is strengthened when we recognize that God is glorified both in redemption and in judgment. As the apostle John wrote, “After this I heard what seemed to be the loud voice of a great multitude in heaven, crying out, ‘Hallelujah! Salvation and glory and power belong to our God, for his judgments are true and just; for he has judged the great prostitute who corrupted the earth with her immorality, and has avenged on her the blood of his servants.’ Once more they cried out, ‘Hallelujah! The smoke from her goes up forever and ever’” (Rev 19:1–4). God’s righteousness is not less central to his glory than is his mercy. The creation of a world with a fall into sin allows the manifold glory of God to be displayed.
These critiques should not be taken to diminish the overall value of Christensen’s contribution. The greater-glory theodicy best articulates the biblical and Christian answer to the problem of evil.
