Some will try to sidestep this issue of "The Question of Evil" by denying that they agree that this life would matter, even if it was the only one which we had. Stoics have traditionally told those who would listen to them not to care about their own lives, counseling them to concern themselves only with the service which they can do for others. Nihilists have gone further, denying that even the harm done to others matters. Both positions have been answered elsewhere, in "Jesus and Aphrodite" and "Interview with a Brave Man", respectively, in part. (The Stoics, at least, merit some measure of our respect, even if they don't get our complete agreement; the Nihilists earn nothing but scorn). "Now, wait a second - aren't you engaging in circular argumentation, here", some might object. "Your objection to an unbalanced altruism in "Jesus and Aphrodite" focuses on its tragic consequences, but that objection presupposes that personal tragedy is a bad thing, which is what you are taking the Stoics to task, for". What is wrong with that objection is that in making it, one fails to take into account the fact that this is not the only position taken by the Stoics. Remember, they also called for one to concern oneself with the well-being of one's fellow man. To do that is to raise the well-being of one's fellow man as an issue, without our help. We do no more than address the issue which the Stoics themselves raised, millenia before we were born. And, address it we do, in the rebuttal to Nihilism which we mentioned, where we take issue with the curious position that death is not a misfortune. Other arguments, not so obviously at odds with Common Sense, might be made, however. For example:

Question:

Isn't it foolishly presumptuous for us, with our limited understanding,
..........to be questioning the ways of God?

Perhaps. But on what basis does one decide what one believes those ways to be? When we encounter those who would convert us to their own religious persuasions, and they speak to us of the word of God, let us note that the words come out of the mouths of men, and not those of angels. It is not God's infallibility that is the issue here, but theirs'. Now, even the most rabid street corner preacher will almost certainly acknowledge that he is but a man, and a highly fallible one at that. But, he will say, God is such a powerful presence in his life, that he is left with no doubt, and that is sinful for us to reject such guidance, offered freely by God, as an expression of His love for each of us.

Some would add that it is foolish to place the advice of one's limited intellect over that of God. That is to say, over the point of view that the emotional experience, of what they perceive to be a relationship with the divine, would lead them to. While I would not deny that such relationships do indeed exist, let us remember that our connection to them, should they be present, can not be direct. If it is a powerful emotional experience they feel, this feeling of clarity and certainty, this inner peace, then let them also recognise that this is THEIR emotional experience, for noone else can feel an emotion for them. While they seem willing to acknowledge the finiteness, and fallibility of their rational intellects, they seem unwilling to admit that their emotional intellects, if you will, are limited as well.

Some will say, "How can you hope to encompass the infinite God with your finite intellect?". Indeed, I would not. The wisdom of God could no more find a place in the finite human mind, than could the Pacific Ocean find a peaceful resting place at the bottom of a wineglass. But these same people imagine that they can transcend their own finiteness, by trusting in their emotions, rather than their reason, failing to see that both spring from the same finite source. If it is unforgivable presumption to imagine that one can emcompass God in one's mind, does it become any better to imagine that one can encompass Him in one's heart?

Man's brain, itself, is merely a thimble, compared to the infinite, and the emotions are as much defined by the neural impulses within it, as are the conscious thoughts. I won't invent a phrase for what some would attempt here, because Wittgenstein beat me to it, by decades. They're attempting to adopt an "angelic point of view", in which they would transcend the limitations of their own vantage points, and in particular, their own abilities. A classic example of this, is when someone asks, "how do we know that logic works?". Except that the very fact of a discussion, presupposes such a thing, and if one "proves" that logic doesn't work, one has, at that moment, discarded everything that comes with logic, including the argument that one used to discredit it. Thus, in proving logic to be an inapplicable tool, in understanding, one would have left oneself with no grounds on which one could object to its use, or to holding a firm conviction in the usefulness of its results.

One must deal with it, and come to terms with it - nobody can step outside of his own head, and each is forever trapped within his own point of view. Even divinity can not help anyone escape this limitation, for even an instant. As for ecstatic experiences, which some are fond of alluding to, the question arises, whether or not the experience referred to is a genuine one, or an endorphin rush coming from an onset of madness, or at least delusion. Those who hold onto their clarity of thought, and examine their feelings may find answers, though their attempts will be inescapably fallible. Those who fail to do so may, in one way or another, find themselves following in the footsteps of those, who when the rapture of the deep hit, dived right for the ocean floor, never to be seen again.

As for the infallibility of gut reactions, or ecstatic states, history bears grim testimony to the falsity of this conviction.

Some would say, let the Lord lead you, and listen to your heart. But has the heart, historically, been an infallible guide? If not, then is it an expression of humility and wisdom to assume that an examination of one's own heart can render careful consideration unnecessary? To attribute to one's own heart, that infallibility that has so often been glaringly absent in the hearts of others? Shall we consider the harm that some have been willing to inflict on others, or themselves, because they thought that it was the will of God? The children who have been denied medical care, because their parents though that the progress of an untreated disease was a reflection of what He wanted ? The religious wars initiated, because each side thought that it was serving heaven by killing the other? The mass suicides of Jonestown, and Heaven's Gate? The Salem Witch trials? The massacre of those "heretics" who thought differently from their neighbors in Medieval Europe? In each of these cases, the same theme runs through - an unwillingness to ask oneself "How do I know I am right, and what happens if I am wrong"?

If someone actually, undeniably meet a deity face to face, and not just in his imagination, and called me, I would be there, listening as intently as a well behaved child, to a respected teacher, to someone who clearly can transcend my point of view - that deity. But even that deity would find his pronouncements tested against experience. What separates a god from a demon is his willingness to accept, that as a matter of good conscience and sense, I must do so, even when confronted with a complex of ideas that I would lack the capacity to originate, myself.

Here, though, some, in effect, are proclaiming their own brain cores to be divinities, which they will follow without question. By doing so, they may be passing perilously close to schizophrenia, and diving headlong into the creation of needless tragedy. One need only consider the horrors that religious fanatacism has lead to - the crusades, the inquisition, the slaughter of indigenous peoples from Prussia to the Americas on the basis of being "heathens", to see some of the danger that this loss of rationality may lead to. But it doesn't even have to be so dramatic as that. What of the people who will fail to take even the most elementary precautions, such as refraining from swimming in a river, when alligators have crowded onto the opposite shore, on the basis that "When God decides that your number is up, your number is up", and decline to watch out for their children as well? What happens when one of these people gets into a position, where he is helping to write the laws that govern public safety?

Question:

Aren't you lingering in something of a contradiction

You seem to be suggesting that the ordeals we encounter in life, give it meaning by giving us something of value to achieve, in overcoming them. Yet, if a perfect heavenly reward awaits us, of what importance is a few years of discomfort or even sorrow, given an eternity of joy ahead?

If one believes in an afterlife, how can one fear even death? Why does one hold life to be precious, and death a misfortune to be feared - cause for our sympathy when it happens to someone else?

Is not such a reaction a rebellion against divine will? Could one not argue that any concern with life in this world, or desire to better it, is such?

The world and life are the way they are, because the gods will it so, right? So, if you serve and respect them, why not accept their will, and stop worrying?

At a bare minimum, aren't you denying the goodness of the gods when you express sorrow over their will, in this sort of manner?

No. We can't guarantee that divinity even exists, and that one who dies passes over into anything other than oblivion, though I believe that something vastly better than that awaits. But, as a matter of good sense, we have to factor the worst possibilities into our plans, even if we don't expect them to arise. The feelings of satisfaction, in this life, like emotional reactions in general, come in response to that which we know, not to that which we don't know. In the next life, if we should find ourselves there, we can find pleasure in having reduced the misery of those in this life, as they experience it. Childhood does not last forever, yet we still strongly wish that our children enjoy it, do we not? (At least, some of us?) The same principle would apply here, with those who have passed away taking an almost parental interest in those they leave behind, perhaps.

Let's go on.