O.I. When we ask ‘Does God exist?’, what kind of question are we asking and, further does it make a difference that it is one kind of question rather than another? To find answers to these we will begin by investigating the various kinds of questions to which it seems ‘Does God exist?’ belongs, including questions about physical states of affairs, questions requesting reasons, and questions concerned somehow with the difficult notion of ‘existence’. As part of this initial inquiry we will also examine the relation of presupposition to question and the significance of both negation and assertion in questions.

God, as viewed by Muslims, Jews and Christians, is a transcendent being. To say that God is transcendent is to say, among other things, that spatiotemporal predicates do not apply to him. He is disembodied and absolutely immutable. God, nevertheless, is on this same view an agent. He makes things happen, he answers prayers, he judges, he forgives, he punishes, he guides, etc. The concept of God as a being worthy of worship seems to require that God be an absolutely eternal being on the one hand with all that this entails and a being that is absolutely just, merciful, forgiving, loving, good, on the other. It is the predication of such attributes of God that yields the concept of transcendent agency. This means in effect that for a being to be God this being must be, at least, a disembodied agent. But the concept of a disembodied agent, it is argued, is a contradiction in terms.

Let me, to begin with, outline the main points of my paper.

First of all, I shall draw a very basic distinction between three parts or aspects of reality. I shall then go on to claim that there are certain kinds of understanding and explanation which correspond to each of these three parts, and to discuss the sort of experience these different kinds of understanding involve. Within this perspective, religion will emerge as one kind of understanding and explanation, different from and parallel to scientific understanding. Having reached this point in the argument, we shall be able to see one demarcation-line between scientific and religious understanding, and to offer one explanation why this demarcation-line is changing and culturally dependent. The next step, leading to Part II of my paper, claims that our attempt to understand our situation in the world involves the formation of an overall or ‘total’ view, an all-inclusive picture of reality. I shall then go on to discuss how the different kinds of understanding explained in Part I affect the formation of a total view. This leads to a classification of world-views into four main types, corresponding to the former distinctions. In this scheme, we see how religion can be a kind of understanding different from but dependent on that pointed out in Part I, and bearing a complicated relation to scientific understanding. In explaining this I shall also discuss the reasonableness of different world-views.

‘That a corporeal substance, which hath absolute existence without the minds of spirits, should be produced out of nothing by the mere will of a spirit hath been looked upon as a thing so contrary to all reason, so impossible and absurd, that not only the most celebrated amongst the ancients, but even divers modern and Christian philosophers have thought matter co-eternal with the Deity.’

Recent defences of the Divine Command Theory have ranged from those which attempt to meet objections half-way, and in the process transform the theory, to restatements and defences of the theory in its full rigour. Philip Quinn's Divine Commands and Moral Requirements is one of the latter. Quinn's purpose is to show that the theory, in its several variants, can be stated precisely within several current systems of deontic logic, and that contrary to a common belief, there are no logically decisive objections to the theory. In accordance with this limited aim, there is little positive argument for the theory, little attempt to exhibit it as a plausible or attractive position, and this gives the book a rather narrow formalist aspect.

Because Anselm of Canterbury argues that the morally responsible created agent must have the option to choose between justice and benefit, many scholars conclude that he is a proto-Kantian, pitting duty against self-interest and natural inclination. This is mistaken. Anselm proposes a hierarchical schema, prefiguring that of Harry Frankfurt, in which the inclination for justice constitutes a second-order desire that one's first-order desires for benefits should be moderated to conform to God's will. I defend this interpretation through careful textual analysis, then show that Anselm's hierarchical analysis is not subject to some of the criticisms one might raise against Frankfurt's.

This paper will examine a descriptive approach in philosophy of religion which portrays authentic religious belief as necessarily characterized by an independence from the world. Such independence is, moreover, claimed to be inextricably linked to self-renunciation through the self attaining a perspective on the world as a whole, a seeing of everything sub specie aeternitatis. This idea of a ‘perspective’ is supposed to elucidate the character of religious belief, to show just how it is distinctive from other forms of belief.

In ‘The Will to Believe’, the religious hypothesis for William James says, first, ‘that the best things are the more eternal things’, and second, ‘that we are better off now if we believe her first affirmation to be true’ (p.26) He later qualifies the first affirmation: ‘The more perfect and more eternal aspect of the universe is represented in our religions as having personal form’ (p.27).

This paper responds to Helm's rebuttal of Brummer's account of Bernard and Calvin in Religious Studies 30, 4. It contends that Helm confuses indeterminism with nondeterminism and that a clear distinction between freedom from necessity and freedom from compulsion must be drawn. Contra Helm, there is still a contradiction between Calvin's defence of freedom from compulsion and his account of the perseverance of God's grace.

The phrase ‘essence of Christianity’ is ambiguous. The basic reason for this is that the word ‘essence’ has a more natural, though by no means uncomplicated, reference to substances, whether in philosophical or pharmacological discussion. Outside such contexts the use of phrases like ‘the heart of the matter’, or ‘the essence of happiness’ sound like earnest, but rhetorical devices to commend the depth or fundamental character of a specific investigation.

Rudolf Otto has often been criticized for not showing enough interest in mystical experience. In this article I want to demonstrate how misplaced this criticism is and to show that it is based on an erroneous interpretation of the relationship between numinous and mystical experience in his work by most of his students. I shall argue that, particularly in The Idea of the Holy, Otto offers an account of the nature of mystical experience which should be of considerable interest to students of mysticism today, not least because it calls into question many of the assumptions that are presently made about mysticism by phenomenologists and philosophers of religion. Most of this article will be devoted to an examination of references to mysticism in The Idea of the Holy and to an evaluation of Otto's observations about the nature of mystical experience, and I shall conclude that Otto's account of the relation-ship between mystical and devotional forms of religion provides a significant, but frequently overlooked, insight into the nature of mystical experience.

Positive Evidential Atheism is the two-part view that our available evidence sufficiently supports the belief that God does not exist and that God's non-existence is a morally good thing. Paul Moser's recent work (2012, 2013, 2014, and forthcoming) provides a case that Positive Evidential Atheism is undermined by ‘intentional divine elusiveness’. This essay defends Positive Evidential Atheism from Moser's objection along two lines: (1) Moser's undercutting argument does not respect the fact that the positivity and evidentiality claims of Positive Evidential Atheism are logically connected, and (2) positive atheists needn't be those from whom God has hidden.

‘The Will to Believe.’ The mere mention of this title cannot fail to elicit a reaction from philosophers. Written almost 100 years ago, it continues to intrigue, inspire, perplex and repel, often all in the selfsame reader. Few who make acquaintance with this robust and insightful lecture can remain neutral toward it. In 100 years there has been continuous debate about both the content of the argument and its merits. I will confess to being among those intrigued and inspired by this lecture of James's – and, until recently, also much perplexed by it. The sources of my intrigue have been its guiding insights: that living is choosing in the midst of uncertainty; that in pressing cases, waiting for evidence is no escape from risk; and that believing can create certain truths. The sources of my inspiration have been its vibrant presence and its gallant call to courage. But the main source of my perplexity was the shape of the argument itself: Just what was James's case here? What was the conclusion? What were the premises? Off and on, I pondered the matter for years without resolution, and it was only after I abandoned the very frame of the question that I found a way out of my puzzlement. What I have come to see is that James is not pressing toward one key conclusion in ‘The Will to Believe’. There are two, the second far bolder, far more sweeping than the first. What makes this especially difficult to see is that James himself nowhere acknowledges it. Indeed, he expressly disavows the second conclusion, and this for good reason: The two conclusions are incompatible. In what follows, I want first to take you to the source of my problem in understanding James's classic lecture, then to explain to you why my two-argument theory seems its unavoidable if inelegant resolution. Finally, I want to turn to the properly philosophical task. I want to inquire into the truth of his more sweeping (albeit disavowed) claim.

The truth of one's religious beliefs can be questioned by appeal to hypocrisy or blatant moral failure amongst the adherents of one's religion. Such an appeal implies that the absence of spiritual maturity within a religious individual or group can serve in some way as evidence against the truth of that religion and (presumably), conversely, that spiritual maturity within a religious individual or group can be thought of as providing some sort of evidence for the truth of that religion. The first part of this article attempts to get clear on what sort of evidential force the presence or absence of spiritual maturity has for the rational assessment of religious belief in general. This part of the article concludes that the evidential force of spiritual maturity must ultimately be assessed within the contours of a particular religion with a firm grasp on the sort of moral formational process envisaged by that religion. So, in the second part of the article, the evidential force of spiritual maturity is considered from a Christian perspective and an interpersonal model of sanctification is appealed to as an explanation of the lack of spiritual maturity amongst Christian believers.

This article applies Paul Tillich's existentialist analysis of the human predicament, particularly what it means to exist and to be fallen, to social media. I argue that social media heightens feelings of alienation and estrangement, supporting this claim with evidence from empirical research in psychiatry and communication studies. Thus, I offer an application of a Tillichian approach to an area of culture previously unexamined in this way. I identify three primary ways in which social media exacerbates existentialist emotional states: (1) social media allows us to construct artificial versions of ourselves through the use of filters and photo editing software; (2) it provides the means to quantify social approval in groups the size of which the human brain has not evolved for; (3) it extends the size of our social networks but decreases the quality of interactions. Social media is yet to receive significant philosophical or theological engagement despite its prevalence, particularly within younger generations. I argue that this is a mistake – philosophy has a duty to engage with such a ubiquitous feature of modern life.

This article expands my previous work on omnisubjectivity, the divine property of having a complete and perfect grasp of the subjective states of all beings who have such states. By a subjective state I mean a conscious state as that state is experienced by the one who has it. I argue that only a being with subjectivity can be omnisubjective, and therefore, God has subjective states. The article explores the subjectivity of God as it applies to the Christian doctrines of the Trinity and the Incarnation, focusing on the important difference between a person and an instance of a nature. I propose that the uniqueness of persons is grounded in their unique subjective states, not their objective nature. Each person of the Trinity has a unique point of view and unique subjectivity even though they share an objective divine nature instantiated in a single divine being. The Son has a single set of subjective states before, during, and after the Incarnation. Each member of the Trinity is omnisubjective and fully grasps the unique subjective states of each other person of the Trinity. The perfect comprehension of each other while remaining unique persons is a model of perfect love within a community of persons.

This article is a reply to Thaddeus Metz's ‘The good, the true, and the beautiful’ (2011). I suggest that Metz's theory is too broad since it entails that merely understanding Einstein's or Darwin's views can make a life highly meaningful. Furthermore, it is unclear whether ‘fundamental conditions’, toward which highly meaningful lives are oriented, may or may not be necessary conditions to ‘non-fundamental conditions’, how completely the former should explain the latter, and whether Metz's account is indeed non-consequentialist. While acknowledging the importance of Metz's contribution, I consider alternative directions that future research might take.

In First Principles, Spencer attempted to construct a metaphysical system which synthesized all available knowledge into a single world-view. One major aspect of his task was to integrate Religion and Science. However, there is no single metaphysical system or structure unifying Spencer's thought, and my aim in this article is to identify the various different models of reality which he confuses. Spencer inherited these different, over-arching conceptions from his own European philosophical tradition, and with them came certain inherent metaphysical problems which he wished to solve.

Vincent Brümmer has recently, by taking his starting-point in the writings of Wittgenstein, defended the idea that the debate about the truth or falsehood of the claim that God exists has no future. I suggest that the arguments Brümmer develops to support this claim fail. This is so because he does not show why any attempt to prove or disprove the truth or falsehood of the belief in the existence of God is circular or how the purported non-provability of the belief that God exists entails that the theism–atheism debate of the truth or falsehood of this belief has no future. In addition, Brümmer does not acknowledge that there are many different religious language-games, that within the theistic language-games the claim that God exists is used in many different ways and that, as a result, it is not true that, within the religious language-game, the belief in the existence of God cannot be doubted, denied, or treated as a hypothesis.