Matt Fradd
Spirituality/Belief • Books • Writing
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Pop-Cultured Catholic #3: George R.R. Martin’s (Perhaps Unintentional) Insight into the Problem of Evil

Hello everyone, here is my third weekly post pertaining to pop-culture. For today, I would like to bring up a quote by fantasy writer George R.R. Martin, which has always fascinated me and provoked additional thoughts that he might not have expected:

"The battle between good and evil is a legitimate theme for a Fantasy (or for any work of fiction, for that matter), but in real life that battle is fought chiefly in the individual human heart. Too many contemporary Fantasies take the easy way out by externalizing the struggle, so the heroic protagonists need only smite the evil minions of the dark power to win the day. And you can tell the evil minions, because they're inevitably ugly and they all wear black. I wanted to stand much of that on its head. In real life, the hardest aspect of the battle between good and evil is determining which is which."

George R.R. Martin is best known for his series of fantasy novels, “A Song of Ice and Fire”, which became adapted into HBO’s “Game of Thrones". He was raised Catholic and even used his confirmation name as his second middle initial, though he now considers himself more of an agnostic. However, I found that some of his insights have actually reinforced parts of my Catholic worldview, whether he intended to or not.

One such example is how I found his above quote rather applicable to The Problem of Evil, which has been analyzed by thinkers as old as Saint Thomas Aquinas and is alluded to in Martin's works on occasion. The question raised is that, if God is omnibenevolent, omnipotent, and omnipresence, why is all evil in the world not instantly defeated. In the words of Aquinas' Steel-Man argument, "If one of two contraries be infinite, the other would be altogether destroyed". Well, if the battle is fought primarily within the human heart and cannot just be ended by one external swoop, which smites the evil minions of the dark power to win the day, then it makes me wonder. Would it be possible, even for an omnipotent God, to win such a war to the fullest, without allowing some level of human cooperation? This is why philosophers often bring up free will, when discussing the Problem of Evil.

To a certain extent, one could posit that a hypothetical God would not just directly smite all evil, for the same reason why the Devil archetype is most ruinous, not when he physically attacks out in the open, but rather when he tempts mankind to bring about their own corruption. To bring up a Tolkien-based analogy, which would be more deeply destructive to you, being physically smashed by Sauron during the opening battle in "The Fellowship of the Ring", or being tempted and consumed by Sauron's One Ring of Power until you end up like Gollum? Arguably, victories or defeats are most decisive, when they involve our own choices and efforts.

Finally, when Martin himself states that "In real life, the hardest aspect of the battle between good and evil is determining which is which", it also reminds me of Jesus' parable with the wheat and the weeds (Matthew 13:24-30). When the master is asked whether to immediately start pulling the weeds, he replies "No... because while you are pulling the weeds, you may uproot the wheat with them. Let both grow together until the harvest". We humans are not like the angels, whose knowledge and control over our own wills are so great that one quick test is sufficient. Instead, we are tested many times over the course of our entire lives on Earth which, in the grand scheme of eternity, may still be quite instantaneous. Only afterwards does God deem it time to ultimately judge each of us, rather than conclusively judging us the very first moment we commit evil as with the angels.

I do not want to put words into the mouth of George R.R. Martin, since he probably did not intend his quote to be analyzed theologically. Nor do I want to suggest that my brief analysis can single-handedly address the Problem of Evil. Nonetheless, the quote became all the more thought-provoking for me, when viewed through that lens.

Back when I put together a huge YouTube essay on "A Song of Ice and Fire"/"Game of Thrones", I went into even more detail on some of my points stated here, during its Segment #3, "What Do I Consider the Most Central Theme?". Many of my family members, particularly my mom, loved that Segment #3 of my essay, especially when I bring up Thomas Aquinas and compare/contrast the writings of Tolkien versus Martin. So I am linking my YouTube essay down below, with 16:40 being the timestamp for my third segment (and 3:43 being the timestamp for my Segment #2, if you would like to hear me summarize the plot to "A Song of Ice and Fire" first):

"My Game of Thrones Retrospective and Season 8 Thoughts ~ Mark's Reviews"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ospYhmQInzg

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Day 5 of Advent

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In their eagerness to proclaim the unity of God and man in Christ, some heretics went to the opposite extreme and taught that not only was there one person, but also a single nature, in God and man. This error took its rise from Arius. To defend his position that those scriptural passages where Christ is represented as being inferior to the Father, must refer to the Son of God Himself, regarded in His assuming nature, Arius taught that in Christ there is no other soul than the Word of God who, he maintained, took the place of the soul in Christ’s body. Thus when Christ says, in John 14:28, “The Father is greater than I,” or when He is introduced as praying or as being sad, such matters are to be referred to the very nature of the Son of God. If this were so, the union of God’s Son with man would be effected not only in the person, but also in the nature. For, as we know, the unity of human nature arises from the union of soul and body.

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RESTORATION OF MAN BY GOD THROUGH THE INCARNATION

We indicated above that the reparation of human nature could not be effected either by Adam or by any other purely human being. For no individual man ever occupied a position of pre-eminence over the whole of nature; nor can any mere man be the cause of grace. The same reasoning shows that not even an angel could be the author of man’s restoration. An angel cannot be the cause of grace, just as he cannot be man’s recompense with regard to the ultimate perfection of beatitude, to which man was to be recalled. In this matter of beatitude angels and men are on a footing of equality. Nothing remains, therefore, but that such restoration could be effected by God alone.

But if God had decided to restore man solely by an act of His will and power, the order of divine justice would not have been observed. justice demands satisfaction for sin. But God cannot render satisfaction, just as He cannot merit. Such a service pertains to one who ...

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Hello, all! New here and wanted to introduce myself. I'm Amy Grey, a wife (10 years in) and mom of four kids in the midwest USA. I converted from an Anabaptist (Mennonite) background when I was 13 years old. It's hard to describe how much I love theology and philosophy. A little intense for most! Happy to be here. Any other Mennonite to Catholic converts? There's not too many of us out there!

5 hours ago

I tell you, there is something different about current teenagers. On one hand we see all these confused blue haired non-gendered angry promiscous youth.
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Meme Monday!

Go! Go! Go!

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Big Chesterton Cigars Event! (Fri 25 April - Sun 27 April)

Join us for an unforgettable weekend of cigars, conversation, music, and meaningful reflection at Chesterton’s Cigars, April 25–27 in Steubenville, OH. From live bands and inspiring lectures to a guided cigar tasting, this event will be a celebration of friendship, faith, and relaxation. I’ll be there, along with Dr. Scott Hahn and other special guests. Whether you come for the theology, the tobacco, or the camaraderie, there’ll be something for everyone. Come raise a glass—and a cigar—with us.

 

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Saturday, April 26th, 2025

 
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425 N 4th St, Steubenville, OH
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Sunday, April 27th, 2025

 
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The Queen and The Witch (A Fairy Tale)

I read fairy tales to my kids all the time, so I figured I’d try writing one myself. I’m a bit embarrassed to share it—I really want it to be good (or at least decent), but I’m not sure it is.

Here’s what I do know: if I don’t post it now, it’ll probably sit in my drafts until I forget it even exists. But if I share it publicly, I’ll have to own it—and that makes it way more likely I’ll keep editing until I’m happy with it, maybe even write more.

So if you’re up for it, I’d love your feedback. Critiques, suggestions, or just letting me know what you liked—it all helps. Thanks for reading.


In a certain kingdom, in a certain land, there lived a boy named Peter. Though the world called him a prince, he cared more for mud puddles and beetles than for gold or grandeur. Each day, he wandered the royal gardens, collecting feathers, following ant trails, and speaking with birds in a language that only he and they knew.

One morning, his mother—the Queen—kissed his brow and knelt to look him in the eyes. She wore her cloak of sapphire and silver, and her voice was steady but kind. “I must go away for three days, my love,” she said. “There are matters in the outer provinces that need my attention. While I’m gone, stay within the garden walls. Speak only with the wind, the birds, and those who belong here. Everything you need is here at home. And above all, do not wander into the dark wood.”

Then she rose, mounted her horse, and rode out through the castle gates, her cloak trailing like a ribbon of blue light.

That first morning, after the Queen had left, Peter found himself near the edge of the royal gardens. The trees of the dark woods stood just beyond the wall, tall and still, their trunks fading into shadow.

He knew he shouldn’t. He could almost hear his mother’s voice: Stay within the garden walls, my love... But the air felt different—cooler, quieter. And then, on the breeze, he heard it: a female voice, low and lilting, like a lullaby she was singing to herself, not meant for anyone to hear.

“Give me your eyes, and I’ll show you the stars.
Give me your heart, and I’ll sing you to sleep.
Give me your name, and you’ll never be hungry again.”

Peter stopped. The voice was soft, but close.

“Who’s there?” he whispered. No one answered. Only the leaves stirred.

His feet moved before he realized—one step, then another, as if the trees were pulling him forward. The garden wall faded behind him. The light dimmed. Shadows thickened. And then, between two trunks, he saw her. Cloaked in sapphire and silver, her face just visible in the dappled gloom. It was her—it had to be. His mother.

“Mother?” he called, relief blooming in his chest. He ran toward her.

She turned and smiled. Her voice was soft and sweet, but it clung to him, sticky and strange.

“Dearest,” she said, bending low, “give me your eyes, and I’ll show you the stars. The world is so dark, and you deserve to see its wonders as I do.”

For a moment, Peter wanted to believe her. But something in her face didn’t sit right, like a song played with one wrong note. Her shadow stretched the wrong way, and her breath smelled of rust.

He froze. The warmth draining from his body.

“You are not my Mother,” he said slowly. “And my Father is the King”

Her face began to blur, like the surface of a pond just after something moved through it. The blue of her cloak faded to dull gray, and her eyes lost their shine, darkening to something flat and cold. Then, without a word, she turned and slipped away into the wind, as if she had never been there at all.

The next morning, Peter sat beneath the old maple tree at the center of the garden, staring at the grass, twisting a fallen leaf between his fingers. “Did I dream it?” he asked aloud. “Did I imagine the woods? The Woman? The song?” The garden made no reply. Maybe he had fallen asleep by the wall. Maybe it had all been a strange sort of dream. He was just starting to believe that—when he heard it again. The same strange tune, drifting from the trees.

“Give me your eyes, and I’ll show you the stars.
Give me your heart, and I’ll sing you to sleep.
Give me your name, and you’ll never be hungry again.”

Before he realized it, Peter had stepped beyond the garden wall, drawn deep into the dark wood—as though his feet belonged to someone else, as though another will entirely guided his steps—until he found himself standing beneath the crooked elm, where she waited. Her silver robe hung limp and wet, her hair tangled with leaf and moss. Her hands were folded, and her voice, when she spoke, was barely more than a breath.

“Poor boy,” she murmured, not looking at him. “Give me your heart, and I’ll sing you to sleep.”

Peter felt drowsiness wash over him, tempting him to surrender—but then he shook himself awake, eyes clearing.

“You are not my mother,” he said firmly, “and my Father is the King.”

The witch's gentle expression twisted into a disappointed frown, and without another word, she faded into the shadows, leaving only silence behind.

On the third day, the witch returned, her enchanting song luring Peter back into the dark forest.

“Give me your eyes, and I’ll show you the stars.
Give me your heart, and I’ll sing you to sleep.
Give me your name, and you’ll never be hungry again.”

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What the Heck Is Antisemitism, Anyway?
(A Socratic Dialogue)

I recently posted this quotation from Pope Paul VI to Youtube:

“Furthermore, in her rejection of every persecution against any man, the Church, mindful of the patrimony she shares with the Jews and moved not by political reasons but by the Gospel's spiritual love, decries hatred, persecutions, displays of anti-Semitism, directed against Jews at any time and by anyone.”

And, oh man, was the feedback fun. Within minutes, I was accused of everything from cozying up to The Daily Wire to desperately chasing subscribers to—and maybe I shouldn’t be surprised—being under the influence of Jewish money.

But one question kept coming up: What is antisemitism? One commenter put it this way:

“How about having a clear definition of what the word means? Is that too much to ask? Because quite frankly, every time I look it up, it's never really clear. Words have meaning. Or at least they should. If the M word for taking a life was used, and someone is accused of it, everyone knows what it means. But imagine it's not clear what it means. And someone out of nowhere accused someone of it, but the definition keeps changing or is not clear—what then?”

Fair enough. So, to help clarify, I’ve written a Socratic dialogue exploring what I antisemitism is—and what it isn’t.

One quick note before you read on—I assure you, I’m writing this in good faith. I know this topic is deeply important to many people, including my fellow Catholics. This article is simply my attempt to articulate what seems obvious to me, not a middle finger at those who disagree.

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