When I wrote about the "coercion problem" with the argument from suffering, I made reference to the concept of virtue ethics. To recap: in discussions about God’s justice, we often make the mistake of assuming that suffering per se is unjust; however, if we approach the discussion from a standpoint where the aim is not the avoidance of suffering but the cultivation of virtue, then the whole problem is reframed. Two things are necessary if virtue is to be possible: one, that moral agents must be able to commit acts of evil as well as good, and two, that moral action may not always lead to immediate reward. That is, it must be the case that the good road is harder to travel than the evil; if this is not the case, then there is no sense talking about virtue. Of course you chose to do the right thing: it was the easiest thing to do. Make suffering contingent purely upon moral wrongdoing, and you will not create virtuous people, but mercenaries who do good because it pays. This goes a long way to explaining why the fact of suffering is not irreconcilable with God’s existence; there are virtues which can only be obtained if suffering is possible.

As I have considered this, a question has come to my mind: where does this leave us with regards to God’s goodness? Classical theism proposes that God is a being of maximal moral perfection; indeed, the concept of morality itself is rooted in God’s nature. How are we to square this with the suppositions of virtue ethics? One could go about constructing an argument that challenges God’s goodness on these grounds: if virtue requires suffering, and God has not had the experience of attaining virtue through suffering, would this not make the virtuous sufferer- dare I say it- better than God? I don’t want to dismiss this lightly. I have a sneaking suspicion that the question involves a slight confusion of categories, but I’ll suspend that line of inquiry for the moment and take the question at face value. If goodness is related to virtue, and God doesn’t experience the suffering of the world in the same way that we do, then how can we understand God as being maximally virtuous? It’s a good question to ask; I would answer it by pointing to the person of Jesus Christ.

At the heart of Christianity is the Incarnation: the belief that God entered human history by taking on human nature. In doing so, He did not forsake His divine nature- the former became a window through which we could perceive the latter. The words and deeds of Jesus of Nazareth serve to instruct and illuminate us about the nature of God. Even many committed atheists will appreciate the soundness and sensibility of Jesus’s teachings, and it is likely that at some point you have heard him quoted, perhaps without knowing: think of turning the other cheek, or casting pearls before swine. Jesus should serve as our moral and ethical archetype; this goes without saying for those who profess Christianity, but I think this idea will find purchase among people of all faiths and none. If everyone on Earth made a conscious effort to emulate Jesus Christ, the world would become a much better and more beautiful place to live.

How is this related to the issue of virtue? I point to the Passion. In this episode of Jesus’s life, we see virtue exhibited at its highest. Jesus wilfully lays down his life and submits to torture, humiliation, and death. As the clinical psychologist Jordan Peterson notes, the crucifixion symbolises "the point of greatest suffering";¹ here, at Calvary, Christ voluntarily submits to the worst possible evil in all creation. Recall that in the Christian tradition, the agony of the Cross is not merely physical; it is the collected weight of every wrong that has ever occurred and ever will. Every betrayal, every bereavement, every monstrous birth, every violent loss of innocence, every senseless act of destruction by blind and indifferent forces of nature- that is the Cross. When Christ tells us that that he lays down his life of his own accord (John 10:18), and sweats blood in Gethsemane (Luke 22:44), this is the horror before his eyes. God forbid we should ever take this lightly.

I have written before about the necessity of suffering. How else are we to understand goodness, other than choosing voluntarily to do what is right, even though that is the hardest option? This is exactly what we see at Calvary. Christ voluntarily confronts the utmost extreme of evil, without compulsion or coercion. This gives us the supreme example of goodness. Whenever we contemplate virtue, what should jump to mind is not an abstract set of ideals, but a picture of a broken body hanging on a Roman cross.

It is worth reflecting on the symbol of the crucifix. It is a very deep, multilayered thing. It calls to mind the deadly serious reality of suffering. It offers us the highest example of virtue in the face of that suffering. More than either of these, it speaks finally of hope; after all, the Christian story does not end with the crucifixion. The man of greatest virtue was slain on Good Friday; yet come Sunday, his tomb was empty, nobody could account for the body, and there were strange stories in the air about a man who had come back from death.