The Problem of the Problem of Pain

Pain is only a problem to those who believe that pain is an objectively bad thing, and that an alternative is both available and better.    Without suggesting that theodicy is simple, I would contend that those who cling to some sort of naturalistic beliefs on the pretext that religion can’t answer the problem of pain (or evil, for that matter) are being rather disingenuous.     Consistent with that view, the response to the question of the problem of pain should simply be “What’s the problem?”

Childish Things

A pink stuffed pig sits discarded on our sofa. Amelia used to need the comfort of ‘Pudgy’ to sleep through the night, but he has been sleeping alone on her floor for the better part of a year or more.  The other day, she gave ‘Pudgy’ to Nathaniel. Nathaniel has renamed the pig, but Naomi won’t let him remove the pig’s little bow-tie or be overly rough with him. She wants to preserve the legacy of Amelia’s childhood friend as long as she can.

I feel the same way.

The Christmas season always makes me a bit nostalgic. I guess it’s my own materialism that drives this, but as Thanksgiving approaches and the toy catalog deluge floods the mailbox, I start following the Black Friday deals and speculations. As I try to find good deals on the toys the kids want this go-around, it makes me a little sad to flip through the pages of the less sophisticated toys of yesteryear that they’ve out-grown. We’ll probably send a few discarded things toys to the grandparents’ houses to replace the obsolete batch of toys they currently keep on hand, but it makes me long for the simpler and more innocent times as I remove exaggerated, cartoony dinosaurs and Stinky the Garbage Truck to make room for Beyblades and Batman. I have to wonder how much longer Nathaniel is going to enjoy having a Playmobil poster on one side of his door and his collection of matchbox cars on the other…how long before the cars disappear, and the cute poster is replaced with one for a band that gives his mother headaches? How much longer are they going to need their Winnie the Pooh nightlight?

It is exciting to watch them grow, and it is fun to hear their questions and conversations evolve, but I think it’s also a little sad to recognize that the times that have passed are now gone forever, and it troubles me to realize how much of that time I have wasted.

It also troubles me to see that the sophistication they are inheriting is very much my own. The kids spent a good part of Sunday afternoon clipping and exchanging the coupons from the Toys
R Us Christmas circular, and while their thriftiness was admirable, the underlying materialism – understandable as it was -- was not as much.

I find it amazing how quickly their impressionable tastes can latch onto things after being presented in a single colorful, shiny display. Things never before heard of suddenly get bumped to the top of an ever-growing wish list because the kids playing with it on pages 14-15 look so excited. Of course, I can’t blame them too much. In all my thrifty pursuits of the perfect deals on Christmas gifts, I somehow manage to keep stumbling onto things I hadn’t realized I needed as well. My toys are even more sophisticated than theirs are, but honestly, I think I’m just as impressionable, except in my case, it’s he happy faces on pages 19-20 that sway me.

That being said, when Naomi told me that Arden wanted a goat for Christmas, I was taken aback a bit, but not deeply surprised. I figured a confluence of the Christmas wish-list mentality and homeschool lessons had somehow convinced her that a goat would be a fun pet to ask for. It turns out, though, that she had heard about Samaritan’s Purse and Naomi had helped her do some online research on the  services they provide. For Christmas, she wants someone to give here the resources to give a goat to a village in Sudan. It was encouraging to see the breakdown of the cost and benefit of the aid Samaritan’s Purse provides, and it was humbling to see how my children are growing and learning to put away childish things...a whole lot better than their father is.