An atheist declares that his falling away from the Christian faith involved his seeing contradiction in there being pain. How can it be that, in simultaneity:

• God is kind
• Creation has extensive history before the Fall
• The order of nature has continuously involved animals experiencing pain, not to mention plants
• Instantaneous decisions by humans are punished by everlasting torment
• From among the sinful humans, a set are elected by God’s unilateral decision for eternal bliss and glory

This is very confusing, full of contradictions. How, then, can atheism not be a better conclusion to reach than Christianity? The answer begins with the first premise.

The first premise is a very incomplete picture of God. He is not simply kind, kind, kind, and nothing else. Yes, we do read, God is love (1 John 4), and Love is patient, love is kind, it does not envy or boast, it is not proud, it is not rude, it is not self-seeking, love is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs, love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth, it always protects, always hopes always trusts, always perseveres (1 Cor 13). If we cherry-picked and disregarded the specific context of each passage, not to mention the rest of the Bible, we could conclude that God must be a nice old grandma. But consider:

• 1 John 4 is about understanding who God is, and who has His favor.
• 1 Corinthians 13 is about the greatest aspirations for saints in the persecuted church.
• In Exodus 34, where God is renewing His covenant with Israel, He declares “you shall worship no other god, for the LORD, whose name is Jealous, is a jealous God”. Jealousy for what is His – that is, everything – characterizes God.
• In Psalm 5, it is declared of God, “The boastful shall not stand in Your sight;
  You hate all workers of iniquity.” God hates high-handed sinners.
• In Romans 3, Paul explains that God’s redemption serves “to demonstrate at the present time His righteousness, that He might be just and the justifier of the one who has faith in Jesus.” God is just. He also loves to show mercy; the epitome of both is Christ’s crucifixion.
• In Psalm 85, where God’s actions towards His people are praised, it says “Mercy and truth have met together; Righteousness and peace have kissed.” Four more characteristics of God and what He does.
• In Psalm 86, a prayer for guidance, the psalmist says “All nations whom You have made Shall come and worship before You, O Lord, And shall glorify Your name.” This is one of the passages referenced by the first question in the Westminster Shorter Catechism, stating that our chief purpose is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever.

This is not exhaustive as a Biblical survey of how God is described, but only a smattering. But already we can see that God is certainly not to be described as simply “nice”.

We have addressed the first premise. Why, then, would a righteous, loving, jealous, just, merciful God of truth and peace create a world containing pain even before sin, condemn people to everlasting torment for such apparently minute offenses, and on his own initiative select whom to save to everlasting life? Instead of answering directly, I’ll give a parable – a story containing many parallels to the question.

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There was a man who wanted to display his love, justice, mercy, and truth. Finding no adequate opportunity around him, his friends encouraged him to write a story. In doing so, he could design every detail, yet give his characters real responsibility for their actions.

He began by crafting the setting, pouring care into its beauty and intricacy. A friend asked why he didn’t simply start with a finished world, but he refused; such shortcuts would betray his passion for truth.

When the stage was ready, he introduced his first characters, fully formed yet without memories or scars of growing up. He gave them simple but far-reaching instructions and placed them in a special setting where they could mature peaceably in obedience. However, they faced a solemn test and utterly failed. This failure not only excluded them from their special environment but introduced corruption into their knowledge and reasoning, so that the greatest things they did that resembled the instructions were done in an attitude of rebellion.

Despite this, the author did not start over. Instead, he promised to rescue them. As the story unfolded, many characters emerged as heroes, correcting errors and keeping hope alive. Yet the corruption persisted, leading to cycles of decay and renewal.

At the perfect moment, the author entered the story as a character. Unlike the others, he was uncorrupted and never failed to keep the instructions he had given to all characters. Yet, though he earned the favor of those around him, he did not put attention into the social ladder. Instead of solving their immediate problems, he taught them for a while how to live with love, justice, and mercy from wherever they were. Some followed him, being endowed with some understanding of his authority, but others clung to their own plans. (They had perfected, in their mind, a way to command the respect of others under the pretense of serving the author.)

Finally, he performed the ultimate act of rescue. He privately declares himself responsible for the actions of a great many characters, past, current, and to come. He then publicly receives, executed by the hands of his enemies, a punishment fitting for the guilt of all of those characters’ failures. (This involves, among other things, not feeling sorry for himself as he writes it.)

After the punishment is complete, the author restores his character to full health, and he appears to those characters who were his friends. By this he demonstrates that none of the regularities of the story has power of him, and that he can be none other than the author himself. He tells his friends to go and teach all the other characters to live in confidence of the author’s promises. These promises include general wellbeing to those that demonstrate love, justice, mercy, and truth in the process of carrying out instructions. There will be specific rewards and specific punishments that match each category of right and wrong actions.

As he starts drafting the next leg of the story, a friend asks why he writes it this way. “I see general regularities in which characters turn out as protagonists and antagonists. But I also see exceptions to those regularities, and some those exceptions just can’t be ignored. What’s the idea there?”

The author replies, “You know that I am writing this to display love, justice, mercy, and truth?”
“Yes.”
“Does ‘love’ mean having a heart of butter, which can be turned any which way?”
“Of course not, otherwise the crafty would manipulate it to the harm of everyone else.” “Then what does it mean?”
“Love is being generous and helpful, especially toward those who are needy or suffering.”
“Right. And what is justice?”
“The practice of acting according to what is right and good.” He quickly added, “Within one’s region of sovereignty!”
“Yes. What is mercy?”
“Mercy is refraining from enforcing something that is due, such as a punishment or the collection of a debt.”
“Yes. Now, given that each individual character justly deserves my anger for things that they do, if I were to practice regularity in the way that I show love and mercy, could I call myself true?”
“No, you can only combine justice and merciful love by selecting objects of mercy in an unpredictable manner.”
“Exactly.”

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This is a high view of a very large portion of The Story of the Author, started upon Thanksgiving Day of 2024 to address the title issue.