“One man who has been a life mentor for me is Dostoevsky and his explicit and implicit question ‘Why do children suffer?’ has always gone round in my heart. There is no explanation.”

— Jorge Bergoglio, aka Pope Francis, in interview with La Stampa

See Novus Ordo Watch for more about the interview, in which Time magazine’s Person of the Year continues to spread his false message of a non-judgmental God and comfortingly informs us that he has known Marxists who are good people. How is that the purported pope of the Catholic Church can say there is no explanation for human suffering? Only by dismissing Catholic truths. Novus Ordo Watch writes:

Why do Children suffer? Francis says “there is no explanation”, but of course there is. All the descendants of Adam are the progeny of a fallen race. With the first sin, death and suffering came into the world (cf. Gen 3:16-19; Rom 5:12); they are a punishment for the disobedience of Adam, a punishment we “inherit” in virtue of being members of his race and having lost sanctifying grace (cf. Ps 50:7). Added to original sin is personal sin, and though little children have not committed personal sin, they are affected by the sins (negligences, etc.) of others, and hence, they lamentably suffer. We must ease their suffering as much as we can (corporal works of mercy), but we must also provide them with spiritual instruction and baptize them (spiritual works of mercy) so that not only their bodies can be saved, but more importantly, their souls. This is all basic Catholic teaching and not terribly complicated. But Francis rejects Catholicism. In fact, he would probably derogatorily consider this answer the manifestation of an “ideology.” Modernists don’t like answers or clarity; they love questions, confusion, and doubt.

On the statement about Marxists who are good people:

Francis says he has met “many Marxists who are good people.” But how can they be “good”? “None is good but God alone,” Our Blessed Lord says (Lk 18:19); meaning He is the source of all goodness and holiness, and we can only justly be considered “good” inasmuch as we have the Divine Life in us, that is, sanctifying grace. But no one can be a Marxist and be in the state of sanctifying grace, for Marxism is a form of Socialism: “Religious socialism, Christian socialism, are contradictory terms; no one can be at the same time a good Catholic and a true socialist” (Pope Pius XI, Encyclical Quadragesimo Anno, par. 120).

— Comments —

Jacques writes:

Norvos Ordo Watch writes that there is an explanation for the suffering of children, the “basic Catholic teaching” of original sin.  I assume that in saying there is “no explanation”, the Pope did not mean to say that Catholicism fails to offer any explanation, or that he wasn’t aware of any traditional Catholic explanation.  Presumably he meant to say that he did not know of any satisfying or convincing explanation.

Wouldn’t you agree that this “basic Catholic teaching” is not a proper explanation?  The proposed explanation is that, although God is perfectly good and all powerful, He inflicts terrible suffering on beings that (a) did not exist at the time of the “original sin” and therefore played no role in the sin and (b) lack the moral and mental capacity to understand the reason for their “punishment” (if this is how it is to be understood), and (c) have not themselves done  anything morally wrong.  Fact (a) makes it very hard to understand how children could be morally responsible in any way for this “sin”, hence also makes it very hard to understand how it could be just to punish them for it.  (I assume that making people suffer because of some kind of sin = punishment.)  Fact (b) makes it very hard to understand how the punishment could be just, even if the suffering children really did commit some sin warranting some kind of punishment; a basic principle of justice is that people should understand the charges against them and the reasons for any punishments inflicted on them.  It is especially hard to understand why a perfectly good, omniscient being would choose to inflict suffering on children given facts (a), (b) and (c).

Obviously, there might be some objection to Francis saying that he doesn’t know of any explanation while being the Pope.  Maybe it’s his job as the Pope to know the explanation — or act as if he knows, even if he’s not sure?  But isn’t he on to something, if we interpret his remarks in the way I suggest:  if he’s saying that we human beings can’t imagine any good reason for the suffering of children?

I would say the same about many other evils in the world.  There just is no convincing theistic explanation.  (So maybe theists should simply say that God works in mysterious ways, rather than claiming to know why these particular evils exist.)

 Laura writes:

Presumably he meant to say that he did not know of any satisfying or convincing explanation.

 If he does not believe the Church’s explanation is satisfying or convincing then he does not accept it.

Wouldn’t you agree that this “basic Catholic teaching” is not a proper explanation? 

No, I wouldn’t agree. We inherit the punishment of our first parents. Our souls and bodies were corrupted in the Fall. God did not wish to punish us, but he did wish to grant us free will. While he makes us share in the punishment of our first parents, he also allows us to resist the corrupted nature we inherited.

We cannot exhaustively understand all this, but it does explain suffering, the goodness of God and the innocence of children.

Would you say there are satisfying medical explanations for genetic diseases? These explanations do not take away the suffering involved, but they do explain why they exist on a medical level. Similarly, original sin explains why children inherit the spiritual condition of their ancestors.

I assume you would respond, “Well, it’s still basically unfair for children to suffer.” But then you could say the same of the good things children have inherited, such as the ability to love, to feel wonder, and to see the beauty around them. Isn’t it unfair that they should possess such gifts when they have done nothing to earn them? Little children can attain eternal happiness when they die. Isn’t it unfair that they are entitled to such rewards when they have done little to earn them?

Laura writes:

The Church also teaches that suffering is never pointless. By embracing it, we obtain God’s graces and sanctification. Even a small child can grasp the suffering of Christ on the Cross and understand the heroism of a soldier fighting for a higher cause.

Jacques writes:

“But then you could say the same of the good things children have inherited, such as the ability to love, to feel wonder, and to see the beauty around them. Isn’t it unfair that they should possess such gifts when they have done nothing to earn them?”

I think there are good reasons why we don’t say this, and why this question sounds very strange.  First of all, some of these “good things” seem to be inseparable from the nature or identity of human children.  But it’s incoherent to say that a being deserves (or doesn’t deserve) traits that it has by virtue of its own nature.  (It’s incoherent to say that God didn’t deserve to be omnipotent, for example.)

In addition, there’s a general asymmetry in our concepts of good and evil.  We just do not normally think that it’s “unfair” or wrong or bad for someone to enjoy goods that were not earned — except when that comes at the expense of someone else, or someone else who did earn those goods, etc.

Most importantly, though, even if it were true that the good things children inherit are not earned, and that this is somehow unfair, that would be irrelevant to the question of whether it is fair that so many of them suffer the most extreme forms of evil.  Unless you are suggesting that the goods they enjoy can be seen as reasonable compensation for the evils they suffer — which would be very implausible, and contrary to Catholic teachings — the debater’s point you’re making here does nothing to show that there is indeed a good explanation for the first fact.

Your analogy with medical explanations of disease is instructive.  When it’s possible to explain the disease by reference to a chromosomal defect, for example, then that is a fully satisfying explanation in medical terms.  To the best of our medical knowledge, there need be nothing left over that is mysterious.  By contrast, the theory of “original sin” is most certainly not a fully adequate explanation in moral terms.  It seems to me that it is a vacuous explanation morally speaking.  How are we supposed to understand the idea that moral responsibility is passed on like DNA, that we inherit from our distant ancestors a condition of moral guilt — moreover, guilt for something that we ourselves did not do, may know nothing about, may lack even the mental capacity to morally appreciate?  How can it ever be moral to punish children for the sins of their parents?  A human judge who inflicted that kind of punishment would be rightly regarded as a moral primitive.  (Imagine that in 500 years, some progressive court decides that all those with German ancestry will be executed for the crimes of the Third Reich.)  That just does not seem to be how any recognizable form of moral responsibility works.

Again, it makes no difference to this skeptical line of argument whether we are able to explain the good things that children experience.  The point is that the terrible evils that some of them experience are not well explained (or explained at all) by the theory of original sin.  I think if you were less invested in apologetics you would agree with me that the explanation is far from satisfying — to put it mildly!

Laura writes:

I will offer a few more observations even though it does not seem to matter what I say because you have already presumptuously decided that I would agree with you if I were not “invested in apologetics.”

You write:

But it’s incoherent to say that a being deserves (or doesn’t deserve) traits that it has by virtue of its own nature.  

That’s right. And the child possesses the potential to experience illness by virtue of its own nature. Its own nature was partly formed in an historical event which we refer to as the Fall.

How are we supposed to understand the idea that moral responsibility is passed on like DNA, that we inherit from our distant ancestors a condition of moral guilt — moreover, guilt for something that we ourselves did not do, may know nothing about, may lack even the mental capacity to morally appreciate?  How can it ever be moral to punish children for the sins of their parents?

Why is it difficult to understand that a moral condition has a moral cause? Obviously it is not going to have a physical cause and thus is not going to be something that can be seen under a microscope.

Children and their parents, even distant parents, are intangibly linked. Just as they partake in a physical chain of existence, they are joined in a chain of spiritual events. While we are individuals, and bear the consequences for personal actions, we have a corporate existence — on a spiritual and moral plane as well as on a biological plane. Sins can’t be seen or put under a microscope. They can be understood, however, through observation of human behavior and history.

I realize this corporate existence and the idea of vicarious atonement that goes with it are entirely foreign to the mentality of modern individualism. Contrary to what you say, it is just that if we possess these spiritual bonds, they come with complete and not selective links to our ancestors. We cannot have a perfect corporate existence, but to have none would be much worse. This collective existence defines our humanity.

Peter Kreeft refers to the doctrines of original sin and vicarious atonement as “mysteries of solidarity:”

Behind these two ideas is a vision of the human race as a single organism or body, with each of us an organ or cell; a tree with each of us a leaf. Recapturing this ancient vision is our main doorway to understanding these two ideas and how they explain the problem of evil.

We still preserve a little of this old vision, unconsciously. Suppose you suddenly found out that Adolf Hitler was your grandfather. Wouldn’t you feel ashamed? But you did not collaborate in his atrocities. Yet you feel a family solidarity in sin. Or in virtue: if a family member becomes a hero, you feel proud, even though you are not a hero.”

[…]

To think of heredity as exclusively material and biological is to assume an unreal dualism, as if we were soul-ghosts in body-machines. This same dualism leads us to interpret the biblical principle that the sins of the fathers are visited on the children to the third and fourth generations … as a purely spiritual principle. But it means something more simple and obvious: that when three or four generations live together, the great-grandfather’s sins will affect his great-grandchildren. Even with nuclear families, if your father was abused as a child, it will be harder for him not to abuse you … There is nothing ethereal about original sin.

The only two ways God could have avoided having the human race fall into this sin, which becomes hereditary and innate, would be 1) not to give us free will in the first place, that is, to create animals, not humans; or 2) to create us like angels: radically individual, not in a family, not in a hereditary oneness. The very best things in life come to us through our families, but so do the very worst.

[Handbook of Christian Apologetics; Peter Kreeft and Ronald Tacelli; pp 124-125]

I ask you again, how can it ever be just to grant people favors they have not earned? Your point that we never talk in terms of the fairness of good things is irrelevant. Of course, we don’t talk about this because we are not motivated to demand justice when it comes to the rewards of which we have already been assured and we take these  things for granted. But if you are going to say that it is unjust that children receive punishment that they themselves have not earned then you should acknowledge that they also receive gifts, some inherited from their ancestors, which they do not earn.

In any event, human suffering is not only punishment. Without suffering, we would not realize that this world is not our true home. Suffering is the occasion of our spiritual elevation and, even for little children, it is the pathway to ultimate happiness.

Of course, there is much about suffering we cannot understand — such as why some suffer and others do not. The Book of Job is the best philosophical exploration of this issue. Christian theologians do admit the limits of our understanding, but they don’t just throw up their hands and say, “Evil is a mystery.”

Kristor writes:

I’ve enjoyed your conversation with Jacques about the problem of evil. I think your responses have been dead on.

There are two things I like to emphasize in such discussions. The first is touched on by Kreeft and by you: namely, that our inheritance of original sin is an aspect of our inheritance from history. The Fall influences us the way any historical event does, by having shaped the world into which we are born, and by constraining its possibilities. For example, we all live in a world that has been horribly injured by World War II, and by Marxism. The values and beauties, the economic wealth and human lives that might have been added to the world if those two things had not happened are staggering to contemplate. There might be billions more people on the planet now, and we might all be vastly healthier, wealthier, safer, and better off in every way if World War II and Marxism had never happened. But they did.

We live with the consequences. We pay a price for World War II and Marxism, every day of our lives. We ourselves had nothing to do with them. Still we pay. And there is not a blessed thing we can do about it.

So likewise with original sin. Our inheritance is not genetic, but historical.

The second thing is that Jacque seems to think that God punishes us for original sin. He does not. In the first place, we are not guilty of original sin, any more than we are guilty of starting WWII or the October Revolution. This is the great tragedy and horror of original sin, and of all the other costs that the sins of our predecessors have inflicted upon us: even as innocent babies, we pay the price for wicked things we did not do. We are guilty only of our own personal sins. Our tendency to commit them – our concupiscence – is the main price we pay for the original sin our world delivers to us at birth as our inheritance. We are afflicted with the tendency to sin the way a man born lame is afflicted with the tendency to stumble. But until a child commits his first personal sin, he is as innocent as the driven snow.

I guess there is one more thing I would say to Jacques. It is not quite accurate to say that God punishes us for our sins, although to be sure that is how it feels to us. It is only sort of accurate. Just as virtue is its own reward, so is sin its own punishment. Sin just is disagreement with God, and alienation from him. It is also, therefore, disagreement with the order of being (“the order of being” is just a different way of saying “God”); and in any contest of the feebly creaturely sinner with either the order of the cosmos or God, the sinner is obviously going to get totally thrashed. In order for this thrashing to occur, God doesn’t need to do anything special. All he has to do is just stand there, being who he is, like a mountain. The sinner inflicts all the punishment by thrashing himself against the mountain, trying to force the mountain to do or be as he might wish – trying, that is, to make life so that sin is not sin, which is in effect an attempt to make God so that he is not God.

 A Holy Advent and a Merry Christmas!

Laura writes:

Thank you for the terrific clarifications.

Alex writes:

Jacques should ask himself why it is that when the inevitability of the suffering of children is rejected, children always suffer incomparably more than when it is accepted, even if they are not aborted.

Jacques writes:

First, I’m sorry if I offended you by saying that you are “invested in apologetics”, or that (in my opinion) your perspective on this matter is skewed for that reason.  It does seem that way to me, but perhaps I’m wrong.  Maybe I’m the one whose perspective is skewed by some unconscious prejudice.  But the main point that I’ve tried to defend stands, it seems to me:  the theory of original sin is not a morally adequate explanation.  A few comments in response to the thread so far:

i) “Why is it difficult to understand that a moral condition has a moral cause?”

I have no difficulty in understanding this idea.  On the contrary, my objection to the original sin theory stems from my assumption that moral conditions must have moral causes, to the extent that they are explainable.  But the original sin theory does not provide a “moral cause” that seems sufficient.  So I am certainly not suggesting that a proper explanation of the suffering of children must be “a physical cause” or “something that can be seen under a microscope”.  I would be satisfied with any explanation that posits a moral cause that would do the job.  But I don’t see how the long ago sins of the ancestors of those children could constitute a moral cause of that kind.  A necessary condition for a person P to be morally responsible for X, I would suggest, is as follows:  (i) P is causally responsible for X, and (ii) P was aware, at the time of causing X, that X was wrong.  This condition is obviously not satisfied by newborn babies with respect to things that Adam and Eve did.  Do you disagree?

ii) “the child possesses the potential to experience illness by virtue of its own nature. Its own nature was partly formed in an historical event which we refer to as the Fall.”

This may be true but notice that it does not follow that either (i) the child actually experiencing illness, or any other kind of evil, is built into its nature, or that (ii) its nature is in any way bad or deserving of any kind of punishment, or that (iii) it is possible for any being to deserve punishment in virtue of its nature.  So there is a logical gap between the premise that the child has the potential to suffer evil in virtue of its nature and the conclusion that the child _actually_ suffers evil of any kind in some way that is _morally justifiable_.  This is different from the examples I gave, incidentally, since my point was that the specific goods you mention — specific good potentialities — are built into the child’s human nature.  In those other examples, the potentials are themselves good, whereas here the mere potential seems to be neither good nor bad; the badness, which you would like to explain, is the result of the potential being actualized in a specific (bad) way.

iii) Kreeft writes of “a vision of the human race as a single organism or body, with each of us an organ or cell; a tree with each of us a leaf”.  Well, I agree that this “vision” does support the general picture of human life encoded in the original sin theory.  But the “vision” is itself morally questionable, for exactly the same reason.  Of course it is true that, genetically or physically, each one of us is like a “leaf” on the “tree” of humanity.  My question is:  Why should this physical/biological/historical/genetic fact about a child’s situation be considered morally significant?  It is moral common sense, or close enough, that I am not morally responsible for the things my great-grandfather may have done.  Again, the reason is that the minimal condition on moral responsibility sketched just now does not apply to that situation:  I didn’t cause his bad deeds, and there’s nothing I could do or not do that would make any difference to how he lived his life in the past.  So why should anyone not already committed to Catholicism or Christianity accept the deeply counter-intuitive idea that a newborn baby is somehow morally responsible for the actions of its ancestors simply in virtue of its biological/physical/historical relation to those ancestors?  Intuitively, this is like saying that Hemingway’s grandchildren are to be praised for the aesthetic qualities of his novels.

I notice that Kreeft stops short of applying this counter-intuitive moral vision in discussing his own example:  “Even with nuclear families, if your father was abused as a child, it will be harder for him not to abuse you”.  This is true, of course, but does it follow that the abused child is morally responsible for being abused?  Or that the father is morally responsible not only for abusing his own child, but also for having been abused by his father?  That seems absurd.  But if it is, so too is the idea that moral responsibility is passed down by heredity.

Kreeft then presents us with a false dilemma:  “The only two ways God could have avoided having the human race fall into this sin, which becomes hereditary and innate, would be 1) not to give us free will in the first place, that is, to create animals, not humans; or 2) to create us like angels: radically individual, not in a family, not in a hereditary oneness.”  I don’t see why these options are exhaustive.  Why couldn’t God have created us in such a way that, (1a) all of us have free will, and (2a) we are members of families, and thus inherit all kinds of traits, but (3a) our “hereditary oneness” consists in the countless physical, emotional and spiritual traits we share as a result of being members of families, but (4a) our “hereditary oneness” does _not_ entail that the sins of parents are among those countless inherited traits.  If there is some logical contradiction in 1a-4a, I don’t know what it is.

iv) Kristor compares the suffering of children with the suffering that all of us experience as a result of historical circumstances such as WWII:  “We pay a price for World War II and Marxism, every day of our lives. We ourselves had nothing to do with them. Still we pay. And there is not a blessed thing we can do about it.”  But if it’s true that none of us are responsible for these things, but suffer for them nonetheless, then surely that is a good example of cosmic injustice.   An atheist will say:  “Since we do suffer despite not being responsible for these bad things, it is unreasonable to believe in God; a perfectly good and omnipotent being wouldn’t allow us to suffer terribly because of things for which we aren’t responsible.”  And if the suffering of children is like this then surely that’s to concede that there is no good explanation for it, as far as we can tell.

But Kristor also wants to maintain that we are not really punished by God for original sin.  (I suppose that’s because he concedes that if it really were punishment, it would be unjustifiable.)  So, on his view, innocent beings are made to suffer terrible evil, but not because they deserve to suffer.  Instead, they suffer only because other people did bad things resulting in that suffering.  Is it really so clear that an omnipotent, perfectly good being would allow this situation — or that He would have to allow it, in order to bring about some valuable state of affairs that somehow justifies the whole arrangement?  To my mind, this is at best an extremely dubious line of thought.  Why couldn’t God have chosen to limit the suffering of babies or infants so that they would not suffer terrible evils?  Why did God have to create the world, or the laws of nature, in such a way that the most terrible forms of agony would be inflicted on these innocent beings as an inevitable result of the long-ago sins of their ancestors?  Not knowing much about what it takes to create a universe, I admit that I am unsure whether or not it was in God’s power to do things differently in this respect.  But does Kristor know enough about this kind of thing to confidently assert that this hideous arrangement was indeed the best one possible?  If not, I suggest that even with all of these qualifications we are very far from a satisfying explanation for the suffering of children.

Laura writes:

I haven’t been able to read your comment yet, except to note your apology (thank you) and to notice that, if I am correct in my quick skimming of this, that you seem to believe that in Christian theology moral responsibility for original sin is retained. Baptism removes the taint of original sin.

Christmas responsibilities loom at the moment so I cannot respond further right away.

Andy writes:

I’m amazed that so many electrons can get spilled on this topic and neither you or any of your readers mention the answer, which is not original sin, but our adversary, Satan.

Inexplicable suffering is the direct work of the Devil. Original sin was the work of the Devil instilling pride in Eve and Adam. Actual sin is the work of the Devil, when we chose to serve him and do his works instead of the works of God.

Why were 20 little innocent first graders killed a year ago in Newtown, CT? Because Adam Lanza was possessed by the Devil and lived to do his bidding.

 Laura writes:

This is a spontaneous conversation, not an exhaustive analysis of the problem of evil. I did not sit down and say, “I am going to address the problem of evil.” I responded to Jacques’ points and thus it is not surprising that Satan was not mentioned explicitly. Obviously, he was mentioned implicitly in the discussion of the Fall.

Also, it wasn’t so much the commission of evil that we were focused on, but Bergoglio’s point that children suffer.

Stan writes:

Laura writes:

I would also add that I think Jacques missed the obvious answer to Laura’s analogy about medical explanations for diseases: the crucial difference there is that doctors and biologists don’t set for themselves the task of reconciling the existence of disease with a belief in an omnipotent, benevolent God (or nature).  If they had, their explanations would be just as inadequate for the purpose as the doctrine of original sin.  

Dont’t be ridiculous. They don’t need to extend beyond physical causes because they are dealing with physical systems. Evil is not a physical phenomenon.

My analogy was an analogy. I wasn’t saying they are exactly the same.

Stan writes:

Perhaps we are at cross-purposes, but, as I understand it, the whole reason why the existence of evil is a “problem” at all is that we postulate an omnipotent, benevolent God; therefore, to resolve the contradiction, it takes more than a causal account of how present evil may have come about.  The analogy of disease is really not an analogy at all, because it has nothing to correspond to the role played by the omnipotent, benevolent God in the problem of evil.  Modern science can conceivably give some kind of psycho-physical explanation for any particular instance of evil, yet that wouldn’t be satisfactory for exactly the same reason why the theory of original sin is not satisfactory.

Laura writes:

This discussion was prompted by the Francis’s comments about suffering and, yes, he was speaking of how to explain that suffering in light of a benevolent God. Evil is, however, a problem in general because it raises the question of how to reconcile experiences of utter physical degradation with the human spirit.

The analogy of disease was used in regard to the hereditary transmission of original sin. Modern science can give a scientific explanation for a particular disease which is indeed satisfactory on a scientific level. You say the analogy doesn’t work because “it has nothing to correspond to the role played by the omnipotent, benevolent God in the problem of evil.” There is no need for a scientific explanation to go beyond the physical realm. Original sin is similarly a theological explanation for original sin (and evil) and therefore must resort to ultimate causes.

Kristor writes:

Jacques writes:

An atheist will say:  “Since we do suffer despite not being responsible for these bad things, it is unreasonable to believe in God; a perfectly good and omnipotent being wouldn’t allow us to suffer terribly because of things for which we aren’t responsible.” 

This argument could prevail, if the causal integrity of the world were not needful to its continued existence. But it is. If the world does not cohere causally, then it isn’t a world at all, but just a jumble of utterly disparate events that have nothing to do with one another. And the continued existence of the world is obviously needed, if any of the beauties of worldly existence are to be achieved.

Consider the sufferings we endure on account of the weather. They are not our fault. But the only way they could be avoided is if we were to do without weather in the first place; i.e., without the Sun; i.e., without life.

Jacques writes:

Why couldn’t God have chosen to limit the suffering of babies or infants so that they would not suffer terrible evils?  Why did God have to create the world, or the laws of nature, in such a way that the most terrible forms of agony would be inflicted on these innocent beings as an inevitable result of the long-ago sins of their ancestors?  Not knowing much about what it takes to create a universe, I admit that I am unsure whether or not it was in God’s power to do things differently in this respect.

It was not. It is metaphysically impossible to obtain a really subsisting entity that is not free, and ergo free to err. I explain why this is so in a post over at the Orthosphere. I don’t want to repeat the whole argument here. Suffice it to say that the only way that God could create a universe was to make it in such a way that it was capable of Falling, and capable of very great evil indeed.

Jacques writes:

Kristor writes that if children didn’t suffer because of evils for which they aren’t responsible, the world would have no “causal integrity.”  This seems patently false if — as is the standard view — God’s omnipotence includes the power to create natural or causal laws different from those of the actual world.  For the actual causal order is obviously not the only one that is logically possible.  A world in which eating broccoli causes people to levitate while reciting Shakespeare’s sonnets backwards is logically possible.  A world in which rainstorms cause fires is logically possible.  I say that a causal world in which the sins of people in the remote past do not cause babies to contract agonizing diseases is also logically possible.  At least, I can’t detect anything contradictory in this scenario.  What is it that I fail to notice, according to Kristor?

About free will.  Kristor writes, “It is metaphysically impossible to obtain a really subsisting entity that is not free, and ergo free to err.”  I don’t know what a “really subsisting entity” is, but in any case the mere fact that we are free to err does not logically imply that we actually do err — let alone that we actually err in ways that somehow cause babies to contract agonizing diseases.  (God is free to do evil too, surely, being omnipotent.  It’s not that He lacks the power to do something that we can do!  But He never actually does do evil, because he always knows what is good and always wants to do it.)  So the free will defense is still not even close to a satisfying explanation for the suffering of children.  Not without many, many, many further assumptions that are all at least as debatable as those debated so far in this thread.

 Laura writes:

 Kristor writes that if children didn’t suffer because of evils for which they aren’t responsible, the world would have no “causal integrity.”  This seems patently false if — as is the standard view — God’s omnipotence includes the power to create natural or causal laws different from those of the actual world.  For the actual causal order is obviously not the only one that is logically possible.  A world in which eating broccoli causes people to levitate while reciting Shakespeare’s sonnets backwards is logically possible. 

You are leaving out the rest of the equation. Kristor’s point was that the world would have no causal integrity given the free will of human beings and their corporate, social existence. Of course God could create any number of laws, but given these aspects of creation which he did create, human existence would lack coherence without the possibility of suffering for all.

Laura adds:

Here’s a good essay by the Rev. Paul K. Raftery, O.P. that is pertinent to Jacques’s points. Father Raftery writes:

There is a background to this problem of evil we have not yet touched upon. Basically, what is at issue is God’s not being a tyrant in running the affairs of His creatures. He allows them to function on their own, according to the natures He has given them. He permits his creatures to act upon one another, to have their effects on one another, to leave their mark for good or for ill on their fellow creatures. St. Thomas speaks of this in terms of things being “causes” for some effect on another. The lightning bolt causing a fire in the tree, or the sun illumining and warming the earth are examples. God, as the creator of all things, is the primary cause of creation. But, in His great goodness, He had no wish to monopolize the role of cause among creatures. So He shared causality with His creatures. He made them causes in their own right, able in their own way to contribute to the functioning of the universe. All creatures, says Thomas, have a secondary causality given by the Creator. God has made the stars to shine. Although He is sustaining them each moment with his power, they are the ones that are doing the shining. The oak tree has its own powers of growth within itself. Mankind has an innate capacity to think and love. And for all this creaturely independence to be more than just a sham, God must be open to the possibility of failure in his creatures.

This means God tolerates evil out of respect for His creatures. He wants the tree to grow under its own powers and lighting to burst forth from the clouds, even if from time to time the bursting of the lightning will shatter the magnificent tree. The tree wouldn’t be a tree without its vulnerability to lightning. The lightning wouldn’t be lightning without its explosive and fiery nature. How great each thing is in its own nature! How tragic it would be for the Creator to interrupt His creatures every time one is the cause of some evil coming upon another! It is only illusion to imagine that it would be a better universe were God to do so.