The Problem of Evil - Defeated Forever

The problem of evil—why does a good, all-powerful God let bad stuff happen?—has been a thorn in theology’s side forever. Atheists wield it like a club: “If God’s so great, why the cancer, tsunamis, and torture?” Believers stammer about free will or mystery, but let’s be real—those answers often feel like dodging the punch. Years ago, I posted a stab at this on hyper-evolution.com, tying evil to thermodynamics and life’s pulse. It didn’t catch fire, but lately, with some help from a sharp AI pal, I’ve sharpened it up. Here’s the deal: evil’s not a glitch; it’s the juice in the battery, and Christ’s bloody Passion proves it. Buckle up—this ain’t your Sunday school take.

Entropy and the Tree: Evil’s Old as Time

Genesis 2:17 doesn’t say, “Don’t eat from the tree of evil.” It’s “the tree of the knowledge of good and evil,” and God warns, “you’ll die if you do.” That’s no idle threat—it’s thermodynamics 101. The second law says entropy (disorder, decay) drives the arrow of time toward a chaotic heat death. Call that evil if you want—randomness ripping order apart. Good, then, is negative entropy: life, structure, growth fighting back. Adam and Eve’s bite didn’t invent evil; it dropped them from a timeless, selfless Eden into a world where entropy and its opposite slug it out. The Ten Commandments? Rules to keep chaos at bay. Christ? A reboot to that transcendent vibe.

Here’s the logic: good and evil aren’t rivals—they’re twins. You can’t have one without the other, like light needs dark to mean anything. A perfectly good world sounds nice, but it’s a snooze—pure symmetry, no difference, no life. Think Buddhist oneness or the “Great I Am” state: beautiful, but static. Life needs a vector, a push, and that means imperfection—entropy’s mess and the fight against it. Evil’s the pea under the mattress; without it, there’s no princess, no story.

Christ’s Passion: Fear Meets Glory

So why’s evil so damn intense? Enter Jesus, sweating blood in Gethsemane the night before His torture (Luke 22:44). He’s God incarnate, and He’s terrified—pleading, “Let this cup pass” (Matthew 26:39). Then comes the scourging, the nails, the cross—pain so raw it’s a gut punch 2,000 years later. Why’d God sign up for that? Couldn’t He just snap His fingers for atonement? Nah. The Passion’s the clue: evil’s scale isn’t random; it’s the peak of entropy, and Christ takes it head-on to flip it into glory.

Think “The Princess and the Pea.” The prince knows she’s royal because a tiny pea under stacks of mattresses torments her—her sensitivity proves her nature. Christ’s suffering is cosmic in comparison: He feels every lash, every spike, every sin, every evil, not because He’s weak, but because He’s divine. Only God could absorb evil’s max voltage and turn it. The cross is entropy’s climax—body broken, order trashed—yet the resurrection is negative entropy’s win: life from death, glory from gore (1 Corinthians 15:54, “Death is swallowed up”). If He can handle that, no worldly pain’s too big—tsunamis, cancer, whatever. It’s not gratuitous; it’s the charge for redemption’s spark.

Fear: The Motivator God Gave Us

Back at hyper-evolution.com, I wrote, “Harness Your Fear and Let It Motivate You.” Traditionally, “The Fear of the Lord” (Proverbs 9:10) means respect, but I say it’s deeper—fear’s why we move. Jesus felt it; we feel it. Why’d God build a world with fear? Because it’s the flip side of His glory, the kick that gets us going. Life’s finest moments sit “Between The Fear and The Glory of God.” Christ’s dread in the garden roused His passion—“Thy will be done”—and that passion transcended the cross. It’s the same for us: fear (evil, entropy) is the threat, glory (good, order) is the goal. Master the first, aim for the second, and you’re alive.

How much do you live? Depends on your motivator. Evil’s scale—Christ’s torture or your own struggles—sets the stakes. The bigger the fear, the bigger the potential. Revelation 21:23 paints the endgame: “The city had no need of the sun… for the glory of God did lighten it, and the Lamb is the light.” Fear’s the pea; glory’s the crown. And here’s the kicker: perfect love casts it out (1 John 4:18). Once fear’s done its job—pushing us to grow—it falls away. Evil’s temporary, a means to a fearless eternity.

Evil’s Not the Problem—You Are

Atheists love the evidential jab: “Why so much suffering?” My old post said evil’s entropy, baked into

life’s physics. The Passion says its intensity matches God’s power to redeem. Now, fear ties it together: it’s not overkill; it’s what drives us. Christ didn’t whine—He feared, faced, and flipped it. Evil’s your pea, skeptic; it’s what makes you alive enough to complain. Harness it or hush—God did.

This ain’t about coddling. It’s thermodynamics with teeth: entropy (evil, fear) and negative entropy (good, glory) are the pulse of a living universe. A world without them is dead symmetry—nothingness. God didn’t flinch from the cross; He proved the system works. Suffering’s not a flaw; it’s the voltage for passion, the gap for growth. Why not less? Because less wouldn’t rouse you—ask any survivor how fear forged their fire.

The Takeaway

So, does this solve the problem of evil in God’s favor? Damn right it does—for those who’ll hear it. Logically, evil’s no contradiction; it’s life’s engine, and God’s the mechanic. Evidentially, its scale’s got purpose—Christ’s Passion shows no pain’s too much for glory’s payoff. Is it pastoral? Nope. It’s a gauntlet: quit griping, be thankful, grab the fear, and run toward the light. The universe bites back because it’s alive—and you’re in it. God’s good, not because He spares us the pea, but because He felt it first and made it mean something. Deal with it.