In his recent article1 Stewart Sutherland rightly and trenchantly criticizes some accounts of hope which ignore, or radically misrepresent, how it is conceived in religious contexts. The most surprising, to me, is Chesterton's, that hope is ‘the power of being cheerful in circumstances which we know to be desperate’. Surprising, not so much for its content as for its source. However, this particular example could be of one who would risk giving scandal for the sake of wit; what he could have had in mind is that ‘the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us’ (Rom. viii. 18; cf. John xvi. 33: ‘… you will have tribulation; but be of good cheer.’). Sutherland also makes clear the unhelpfulness (in this context, not the one they had in mind) of the ‘Anglo-Saxon’ analysts' account of the concept; not least because it is given without reference to the religious concept, and often is irrelevant to the notion of hope ‘in its proper conceptual surroundings’.

Before attempting to suggest a religious theory of ethics that appears to me to be tenable, I want to say three things by way of introduction.

According to the divine command theory of morality, what is right or wrong, good or bad, is entirely dependent on the will and command of God: what He commands is right and what He forbids is wrong just because He commands or forbids it. It is argued here that the principal religious objection to this theory – that if it were true, moral precepts would be arbitrary – is rendered ineffective when due consideration is given to the consequences of God's omnipotence, and in particular, to His rationality and to His responsibility for deciding, in creation, what the characteristics of human nature are to be.

The objection of horrible commands claims that divine command metaethics is doomed to failure because it is committed to the extremely counterintuitive assumption that torture of innocents, rape, and murder would be morally obligatory if God commanded these acts. Morriston, Wielenberg, and Sinnott-Armstrong have argued that formulating this objection in terms of counterpossibles is particularly forceful because it cannot be simply evaded by insisting on God's necessary perfect moral goodness. I show that divine command metaethics can be defended even against this counterpossible version of the objection of horrible commands because we can explain the truth-value intuitions about the disputed counterpossibles as the result of conversational implicatures. Furthermore, I show that this pragmatics-based defence of divine command metaethics has several advantages over Pruss's reductio counterargument against the counterpossible version of the objection of horrible commands.

The traditional view of divine conservation holds that it is simply a continuation of the initial act of creation. In this essay, I defend the continuous-creation tradition against William Lane Craig's criticism that continuous creation fundamentally misconstrues the intuitive distinction between creation and conservation. According to Craig, creation is the unique causal activity of bringing new patient entities into existence, while conservation involves acting upon already existing patient entities to cause their continued existence. I defend continuous creation by challenging Craig's intuitive distinction and by showing that the alternative account of creation and conservation he bases upon it is fraught with serious internal difficulties.

The canonical gospels often portray Christ as limited in various ways, for example, with respect to knowledge. But how could Christ be divine yet fail to know certain true propositions? One prominent answer is known as kenoticism, the view that upon becoming incarnate Christ ‘emptied’ himself of certain divine properties, including omniscience. A powerful objection to kenoticism, however, is that it conflicts with Anselmian intuitions about divinity. Specifically, kenoticism implies that Christ was not the greatest conceivable being. I articulate a modified version of kenoticism that avoids this powerful objection while remaining faithful to the depiction of Christ found in the gospels.

In a recent article Mark Ian Thomas Robson argues that there is a clear contradiction between the view that possible worlds are a part of God's nature and the theologically pivotal, but philosophically neglected, claim that God is perfectly beautiful. In this article I show that Robson's argument depends on several key assumptions that he fails to justify and as such that there is reason to doubt the soundness of his argument. I also demonstrate that if Robson's argument were sound then this would be a problem for all classical theists and not just those who hold the possible worlds view.

In a recent article in this journal, Richard Gale and Alexander Pruss offer a new cosmological proof for the existence of God relying only on the Weak Principle of Sufficient Reason, W-PSR. We argue that their proof relies on applications of W-PSR that cannot be justified, and that our modal intuitions simply do not support W-PSR in the way Gale and Pruss take them to.

Religious diversity poses a challenge to the view that exclusive religious beliefs can be justified and warranted. Equally upright and thoughtful people who appear to possess similarly well-grounded and coherent systems of belief, come up with irreconcilable religious views. The content of religious beliefs also seems unduly dependent upon culture, and no one religion has been shown to be more transformative than the others. Philosophers have recently made at least three kinds of claims about the effects of diversity on exclusive religious beliefs, and five kinds of claims about the proper effect of diversity on exclusivists themselves. Since there are numerous factors that can influence the epistemic impact of religious diversity on exclusive beliefs, each kind of blanket pronouncement made about the epistemic effects of religious diversity is inadequate.

Whatever else a theory of impeccability assumes about the moral life of heavenly agents, it seems to imply something about the type of actions possible for such agents, along with the quality of their moral characters. Regarding these characters, there are many that have argued impeccable and heavenly agents must also be perfectly virtuous agents. Michael Slote has recently argued, however, that perfect virtue is impossible. Assuming Slote's argument is successful, a theory of impeccability that relies on the possibility of perfect virtue would be greatly harmed, even to the point of incoherence. My intent here is to defend the coherence of the doctrine of impeccability, at least as it applies to the moral life of heavenly agents.

The post-war expansion of university faculties climaxed in the early 1970s. Since then, there have been more professional philosophers than ever before in history: a startling claim, but sober truth. In analytic philosophy, they have worked with more rigour and better training than even the Scholastics. It would take a surprising lack of talent among us, or perhaps argue some deep defect in the questions we ask, if the result were not more progress in philosophy than most periods can boast. And in fact, those who know what progress in philosophy looks like can see a lot of it: just compare Malcolm's 1960 piece on the ontological argument with Plantinga's 1974 treatment in The Nature of Necessity, and then both with Oppy's book on the subject.

Panmetaphoricism is the view that our speech about God can only be metaphorical. In this article, I do not assess the reasons that have been given for it; rather, I aim to understand what it says and, thereby, to gain a clearer view of the God it offers.

Like David Silver before them, Erik Baldwin and Michael Thune argue that the facts of religious pluralism present an insurmountable challenge to the rationality of basic exclusive religious belief as construed by Reformed Epistemology. I will show that their argument is unsuccessful. First, their claim that the facts of religious pluralism make it necessary for the religious exclusivist to support her exclusive beliefs with significant reasons is one that the reformed epistemologist has the resources to reject. Secondly, they fail to demonstrate that it is impossible for basic religious beliefs to return to their properly basic state after defeaters against them have been defeated. Finally, I consider whether there is perhaps a similar but better argument in the neighbourhood and conclude in the negative. Reformed Epistemology's defence of exclusivism thus remains undefeated.

John Schellenberg has advanced the hiddenness argument against God's existence, based on the idea that an all-loving God would seek personal relationships. This article develops a reply to Schellenberg's argument by examining the notion of moral impurity, as understood by Paul the Apostle. Paul conceptualized moral impurity as a causal state that transfers from person to person, like a contagious disease. He also believed that moral impurity precludes divine–human relationship. The goal of this article is to develop these ideas into a problem for one of Schellenberg's key premises.

In this article we respond to Leo Näreaho's critique of our position on the relationship of the cognitive science of religion (CSR) and theism, arguing that he misrepresents our position and assimilates our views to ones we do not in fact hold. The central issue we address has to do with how Näreaho construes what he takes to be our commitment to a ‘world-view neutrality’ thesis regarding the ‘assumptions and results’ of the new bio-psychological theories of religion (in the case at hand, CSR). We suggest that Näreaho has misconstrued us on what the neutrality thesis actually is and what follows from it. We conclude that his own proposal for compatibility is not an alternative to ours but rather one permissible metaphysical reading of CSR among others.

Ted Warfield has argued that if Ockhamism and Molinism offer different responses to the problems of foreknowledge and prophecy, it is the Molinist who is in trouble. I show here that this is not so – indeed, things may be quite the reverse.

Joanna Leidenhag's claim in her book, Minding Creation, that panpsychists should (a) abandon naturalism and (b) adopt traditional theism is evaluated and critiqued. It is argued that panpsychism is compatible with naturalism and does not commit one to any metaphysic of the divine, including traditional theism.

In the Christian tradition, it is rather natural to assume that a person can receive salvation only if she believes that certain crucial and relevant propositions are true. Louis Pojman has, however, attacked this assumption. He has formulated what I call the ‘ethics’ argument against the claim that belief is necessary for salvation. After explicating this argument, I complain that it is based on an unnecessarily controversial premise and that it proves too little. I then construct a parallel argument to the same conclusion that avoids the concerns I raise against Pojman. This new argument depends principally on two intuitive ideas: that ‘ought’ implies ‘can’ and that belief is not subject to direct voluntary control.

‘Listen, I'm against sin. I'll kick it as long as I've got a foot; I'll punch it as long as I've got a fist; I'll butt it as long as I've got a head; and I'll bite it as long as I've got a tooth’ (Billy Sunday). Billy Sunday was a revivalist preacher in the early half of the twentieth century. I take it that Billy's approach to sin will be taken by most to be more theologically acceptable than the following. ‘I figure I'll go for the life of sin, followed by the presto-change-o deathbed repentance’ (Bart Simpson). Bart Simpson is a character in the animated TV Show, The Simpsons. In the vignette from which this quotation of Bart's is abstracted, Bart is actually in conversation with a Billy-Sunday-like preacher. The preacher, on hearing of Bart's theology (Bartian theology, we may call it; not, NB Barthian theology), replies in a slightly stunned way, as if he had never himself considered Bartianism prior to that particular moment, ‘Wow! That is a good angle. . .’ However, he quickly collects himself and adds definitively, ‘But it's not God's angle.’ In this article, I wish to explore Bart's angle; could it, or something like it, after all, be a prudent angle?