A Piece Of The Problem

So I'm currently taking a graduate class in the problem of evil. Let's just by me electing to fully share these thoughts -- knowing my audience and my incoherent thoughts -- I am keeping you all from experiencing pain and suffering.

However, sparked by a recent post on this blog from an old friend, my memory has been jogged. Seems I've always had a fascination with the subject material I am now paying (or work is paying) to learn more about. About 10 years ago now I wrote a short drama for a church service. Composed on a Saturday afternoon in the fall with nothing else to do (we don't like college football in my family -- it's stupid). The main objective of the script was to startle the Sunday morning congregation. That consisted of my brother standing up and chucking a piece of fruit at my head while I was reading from Galatians, on, well, obviously, the fruits of the spirit.

From there the dialogue and ideas are very rough, but basically, it was the theodicy of a 17-year-old. I'm not tooting my own horn here, but I must admit the insight, as rough as it was, was interesting though sophomoric. Not saying I could write anything as lucid as it these days -- my mind clouded by the likes of John Hick, Alvin Plantinga and others, which would invariably lead to the lack of clarity in the drama should I re-write. Here's the link if you want to read it; scroll to the bottom and note this isn't the original version at all -- it's been adapted many, many times for the good of all. By the way, it's called: Peace of Fruit. You like that don't you.

The thing of it is: We completely scared the Sunday morning congregation. Our church was prone to drunks and the like wandering into the service and yelling. About three men in the brass band behind me leapt to their feet only to see it was the pastor's son doing the yelling. And, also, being the exceptional athlete I am, I caught the fruit.