An Imperfect God Does Not Require a Devil

Michael Gray Griffith Café Locked Out

Evil is real, but what if the Devil isn’t? What if the Devil is simply a patsy we use to cover the truth of evil?

Evil is the price of Freedom. The price—or rather the challenge—of God’s Love.

Somewhere inside you is a neutral state where you sit at the centre of the balance. Move to one side and you lean toward good. Lean the other way and you journey toward evil.

Not that you’ll ever fully reach either, for Good and Evil have no final destination.

The difference between them is that, as we age, we gather a quiver of justifications for every act we commit—each one designed to lessen our guilt.

But if it is truly evil, many have claimed over the years that the Devil made them do it.

I once watched a nature documentary where a baboon was eating the rump of a baby gazelle. The gazelle had only just been born and never stood a chance. Worse, it was still alive, bleating in pain and fear as the baboon continued to eat, as casually as if he were in a food court, lazily watching people between bites.

The narrator mentioned the word “evil,” but was this evil? Or was it just a transfer of energy between two beings who had no concept of our morality?

One of the Moors Murderers, Ian Brady, walked one of his young victims out onto the moor. Just before he killed him, he claims he looked up at the night sky and said to God, “If you exist, show me a sign. Stop me.”

God did not.

In the realm of a perfect God, this little boy—like the baby gazelle—never stood a chance. No matter his hopes and dreams, his inescapable destiny had been prewritten and was short. His parents’ life-long grief would also be prewritten. Not only that, but perhaps they questioned the decisions of God for the rest of their lives, or even took solace in the belief that their little boy was in heaven waiting for them. A little boy consumed by evil—an evil driven by the devil.

But in a universe created by an imperfect God, there is no need for a devil. The murder was not an event inspired by the evil of the devil, but instead the unfortunate outcome of a series of choices made by the murderer and his accomplice.

The murders—and for that matter, nearly all murders—owe their existence to freedom.

Yet within the grim shadow of this evil truth about freedom, there is hope. For despite the murder being foul, despite the Moors Murderers becoming infamous, and despite the fact that the majority of the good people from the same town and the same time vanished into obscurity, they all had the same freedom that Ian Brady had. And they chose not to murder.

Why? Was it a fear of going to hell? Or was it that they simply didn’t want to hurt children—or perhaps anyone else? What if they actually were fascinated by the murder, as many are? Serial killer books have always been popular. But maybe it’s not just these murders. Your thoughts and desires could ponder murdering a spouse, a boss, or a neighbor. Yet still, most of us don’t do it.

Why not? Is it just a fear of being caught, or something else—something deeper? Something good?

And then, of course, there is redemption.

In a reality ruled by a perfect God, redemption is a plot line. It’s meaningless spiritual virtue-signaling. For who? Other gods.

But in the realm of an imperfect God, redemption is a reason to live. It’s hope residing in the deepest and cruelest well—the light in the darkness which you can choose to seek out, to tend, or even ignite.

For in the world of an imperfect God, you are both a creature of this world, no more and no less. But spiritually and consciously, you are an Apprentice God in a world where billions of Apprentice Gods are making trillions of decisions every day, each gifted with the heavy and two-edged, world-altering tool of freedom… Choice.

Michael Gray Griffith

22/07/2026

This is Part 2 in the series of thoughts

This is part one

Meet Your Imperfect God

More of Michael’s writing here