Stephen Fry is wrong about God

Yesterday I wrote about the question which God we would want: do we want a genie from a bottle, who makes our lives easier, or a God who tries to make us better as a person? Of course, there was a very quick reaction to this, and a typical response I received was in the form of a YouTube video by Stephen Fry, in which he cheaply evokes sentiment to score points against religion.

Stephen Fry's plea has become a classic. With his characteristic eloquence, he expresses the anger many feel: how can a loving God design a world where children suffer from bone cancer or go blind from parasites? His conclusion is harsh: such a God is a monster and deserves no respect.

It is an argument that stands firm, unless you ask the question we often prefer to avoid: where exactly do we draw the line?

The impossible boundary of a perfect world

Suppose we task God with 'repairing' the world according to Fry's standards. We start with the most distressing cases: no more children dying of cancer. Everyone would immediately agree to that. But what follows next?

As soon as you start filtering out suffering, you inevitably end up on a slippery slope:

• Who is still allowed to get sick? If we abolish cancer in children, what do we do about young adults? Or with parents of young families? Is their suffering less severe?
• What is an 'acceptable' illness? Is a mild flu still allowed, or should every form of physical discomfort be banished?
• How do we die? If diseases no longer exist, what do we die from then? Does everyone live forever?
• The logistics of eternity: If no one ever dies, how do we solve overpopulation? Should we forbid the birth of new children to keep the planet habitable? Or should we set an 'expiration date' by which everyone is forced to leave?

If you follow this thought to its conclusion, you realize that eliminating all suffering paradoxically leads to a world colder and more inhuman than the world we now know. A world with a mandatory death date or a ban on new life sounds more like a dystopian nightmare than a divine paradise.

The matrix of the divine engineer

Fry's argument assumes a God who should have delivered a perfect machine. But in a machine, there is no room for free will. If God were to immediately correct every virus, every mutation, and every wrong human choice, we would end up in a reality like that of the film ‘The Matrix’.

In such a scenario, we are:

1. Programmed: We would have to be genetic clones of each other to exclude any form of defect or variation.
2. Controlled: Our own will would be subordinate to 'general safety'. We would not be able to choose risk, and therefore not true growth either.
3. Switched off: We would only exist as passive recipients of a frictionless life, without the possibility of overcoming anything ourselves.

Do we really want to live in a world where we are completely controlled by an external power, solely so that we never have to feel pain?

Why opposition is the engine of growth

In my belief, we learn that this world is precisely  not intended to be a painless paradise. The story of the Garden of Eden is essential: Adam and Eve chose to leave static perfection. Why? Because they knew that without opposites, they could never gain 'wisdom'.

You cannot understand light if there has never been darkness. You cannot feel deep joy if you do not know its absence. And crucially: you cannot develop strength if there is no resistance to push against.

The promise is not 'no pain', but 'never alone'

The big misunderstanding in discussions with atheists like Fry is often the purpose of faith. Faith is not there to make reality easier by magically solving all problems. Faith is the realization that God gives us the means to deal with those problems.

When we are confronted with loss or illness, the question is not: 'Why is God doing this?' The question is: 'How does God now give me the strength to bear this?'

The Scriptures do not say that we will be spared from the storm, but that He will never leave us alone. That presence provides a peace and a perspective that extends beyond the temporary misery of this life. It enables us to look at a tragedy and say: 'This is terrible and I don't understand 'why' now, but I know that this is part of an eternal plan in which every injustice will ultimately be corrected.'

The courage to accept the world

It is very easy to echo Stephen Fry. His anger is understandable and human. But if we think deeper, we see that his 'ideal world' would be a world without people — a world of robots in a sterile environment.

I prefer a world where we get the chance to make mistakes, where we feel the raw edges of life, and where through deep suffering we can discover a strength we would otherwise never have known. For me, God is not the dictator who programs diseases, but the loving Father who gives us the freedom to become who we are meant to be, and who catches us when we fall.

That perspective not only makes me happier, it gives me the courage to face the struggle anew every day, knowing that I will become better because of it and that I am never alone.