…the Archbishop struggles. Why? I can only conclude that (as he has sometimes hinted) his belief in the very existence of a deity can falter. After all, if one starts from an absolute faith that there is a benevolent God, one must simply find ways to explain or discount apparently awkward evidence \u201d\u201d of which the problem of pain is an obvious example. If, on the other hand, one is unsure about the existence of God, one does not seek to discount troubling evidence against the theory, but approaches it with an open mind.<\/p>\n
I suspect that describes Archbishop Welby. If so, we should not reproach him for responding to an act of great wickedness as he did \u201d\u201d though we might enquire whether it was really a good idea to be Archbishop of Canterbury. But what I must reproach him for is this: Paris is now, close to home, and once Welby\u2019s own home, but why should that make the atrocity any more philosophically troubling than a Lisbon earthquake centuries ago? I feel a righteous anger against people who renounce their faith because their aunt died of cancer. Other people\u2019s aunts die of cancer all the time. \u201d\u02dcWhy us? Why me? Why now?\u2019 should carry no more force than \u201d\u02dcWhy others? Why then?\u2019<\/p>\n
The Archbishop\u2019s response was doubtless human, but theologically shallow. Jesus, in His agony (\u201d\u02dcMy God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me?) doubted Himself, not God. Straining his ears on last Saturday\u2019s walk, the Archbishop might have heard a rumble from the sky: \u201d\u02dcMy Canterbury, my Canterbury, why has thou forsaken me?<\/p>\n