This chapter contains sections titled: The Concept of Divine Goodness as a Tool of Criticism The Divine Command Theory – or, How to Strip God's Goodness of Significance The Fundamentalist Attack on Divine Goodness The Problem with Young Earth Creationism Concluding Remarks.

In the article I refer to the philosophy of William Hasker and his proposal to reconcile respect for the basic dogmas of Christianity with the contemporary standards of knowledge and the needs of people today. In the first part I analyse Hasker’s view on the idea of Christian philosophy. Since he assumes the truthfulness of the main doctrines of Christianity, he is not opposed to being referred to as a Christian philosopher, but neither is he enthusiastic about this name. (...) This attitude is the result of his conviction that the state of absolute neutrality is not possible in philosophy and that regardless of the views accepted as true by a given thinker the requirement for good philosophy is fairness and evaluating all perspectives and beliefs for their internal coherence and their correspondence with the evidence. Therefore, Hasker first tries very carefully to reconstruct positions different from his own and to track down various difficulties in them, especially contradictions. In my opinion, however, the objection of self-contradiction is ineffective when applied to philosophical positions which, as a rule, use vague concepts. The same applies to the claim that these positions are contradictory to evidence, because one of such vague notions is also the notion of evidence. That is why philosophical claims have the extraordinary ability to persist in life or unexpectedly revive after being considered definitively dead. It does not follow from this that one cannot convincingly justify one’s position using less formal criteria. In the second part I focus on the rhetorical device used by Hasker to make his concept of God more attractive. He suggests that we should shape our concept of God based on our idea of a great man, i.e. one who educates children to live independently and is able to effectively and fairly manage large groups of people. Leaving aside the accusation of anthropomorphism, the question arises about the epistemic value of this image, which is not universal, changes over time and depends on the conditions in which people live. The content of this image proposed by Hasker isn’t also consistent with the idea of the God of Christian orthodoxy, which is dominated by traditional rather than open theism. This is where the problem of linking creative thinking and respect for Christian identity arises. Regardless of the opinion that open theism has among traditional theists, Hasker supports the concept of a strong Christian identity determined by a universally recognized creed. I propose to treat this identity a little more flexibly. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:BOOK REVIEWS Search for the Absent God: Tradition and Modernity in Religious Understanding. By WILLIAM J. HILL, O.P., MARY CATHERINE HILKERT, 0.P., ed. New York: Crossroad, 1992. Pp. 224. $27.50 (cloth). In presenting the fruit of a lifetime of exploration on the part of this theological craftsman of the highest merit, the editor has performed an unparalleled service. For William Hill is a clear and courageous thinker, and (...) one whose selfless editorial duties have perhaps curtailed his own writing over the years. Yet these essays make up for that, and afford younger students of theology a starting point for their reflections beyond the fads of the moment, yet seizing the challenge of contemporary proposals. His grasp of classical and of modern idiom, together with his range of reading, make him a theologians' theologian par excellence. For with his classical mentors he is concerned with conceptual coherence, yet equally anxious to respond to the anthropological perspectives of contemporary theological inquiry. Briefly characterized, the work brings Thomas Aquinas into dialogue with Heidegger and with Whitehead, using each of the latter figures to challenge an earlier " Thomistic" synthesis of the thought of Thomas Aquinas, and highlight dimensions of his theology hitherto left quite implicit. This creative recovery of medieval thought begins with an established interpretation of Aquinas's metaphysical transformation of the neoplatonized Aristotle of Avicenna: his insistence that esse {existing ) precedes essence (or possibility). The identification of God as that One in whom essence and existing are identical sets the stage for Hill's explicitly theological treatment of free persons, by analogy with the " persons " of the divine triunity: " each divine person ' posits ' the others as over and against himself and thereby posits himself in his hypostatic identity. What all this bases itself upon is the understanding that the Christian revelation of freedom as radically constituting personhood enables it to function as a category which surmounts the Greek dichotomizing of reality into contingency and necessity " (117). If the identification of existing with essence in God confronts Heidegger's critique of " ontology," Hill's use of classical trinitarian thought to suggest a fruitful distinction in human creatures between nature and freedom allows him at once to correct the caricature of Aquinas proffered by process theologians as "classical theism," and 521 522 BOOK REVIEWS also to profit by their criticisms of the use of hellenistic categories like impassibility in divinity. "The key... lies in the mystery of freedom. Abstractly, freedom is a property of nature, but its exercise is the pre· rogative of person as the existential instantiation of nature. The person viewed ontologically (as subject of the act of existing) thus determines itself though its nature to be the sort of person it is, viewed psychologi· cally and historically" (127). Finite natures need to negotiate all sorts of causal influences in effecting such a determination of themselves; not so " an infinite nature whose freedom is transcendent." Yet when that One freely determines itself to be source and goal of all, and espe· cially of rational creatures (cf. Summa Theologiae 1.2 Prol.), then " that choice is one of willing to be constituted, personally and so relationally, and in this sense to be determined, by other free beings" (127). So the God who (in Aquinas' idiom) is not "really related" to the world in the sense of enduring (in Hill's words) "passive influx," nonetheless freely relates to intentional creatures in such a way as to be responsive to their freedom. So his response to Moltmann's conten· tion that God suffers " in his very deity " is an explicitly Christological one: "first, that God remains immutable and impassible in his own intrinsic godhead, so that his genuine love for creatures cannot entail suffering within divinity as such; but second, that God does choose to enter personally and relationally into the heart of humankind's suffering in his transcendentally free and loving response to it. God truly suffers... in and through his humanity which is one with the humanity of all men and women" (162). If this resolution sounds "classical," it is, both in its concern for conceptual coherence and for bringing out the radical implications of doctrines like that of Chalcedon... (shrink)

This chapter explores the ethical issues raised by genetic engineering, and the prospect of a posthuman future, or as some commentators put it, a posthuman present in which everyone has become cyborgs. A variety of positive and negative responses to this situation are noted, with particular reference to Fukuyama and Habermas. It is argued that such questions mark a limit to any purely rational philosophical ethics. Religious perspectives are not only legitimate, but may be seen as an implicit background (...) for ethical argumentation, although this does not require a return to religion’s heteronomous control of human morality. (shrink)

“There is no use in trying,” said Alice; “one can’t believe impossible things.” “I dare say you haven’t had much practice,” said the Queen. “When I was your age, I always did it for half an hour a day. Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast”. Lewis Carroll, Through the Looking Glass. -/- It is a rather common view among philosophers that one cannot, properly speaking, be said to believe, conceive, imagine, hope (...) for, or seek what is impossible. -/- Some philosophers, for instance George Berkeley and the early Wittgenstein, thought that logically contradictory propositions lack cognitive meaning (informational content) and cannot, therefore, be thought or believed. Philosophers who do not go as far as Berkeley and Wittgenstein in denying that impossible propositions or states of affairs are thinkable, may still claim that it is impossible to rationally believe an impossible proposition. On a classical “Cartesian” view of belief, belief is a purely mental state of the agent holding true a proposition p that she “grasps” and is directly acquainted with. But if the agent is directly acquainted with an impossible proposition, then, presumably, she must know that it is impossible. But surely no rational agent can hold true a proposition that she knows is impossible. Hence, no rational agent can believe an impossible proposition. Thus it seems that on the Cartesian view of propositional attitudes as inner mental states in which proposition are immediately apprehended by the mind, it is impossible for a rational agent to believe, imagine or conceive an impossible proposition. -/- Ruth Barcan Marcus (1983) has suggested that a belief attribution is defeated once it is discovered that the proposition, or state of affairs that is believed is impossible. According to her intuition, just as knowledge implies truth, belief implies possibility. -/- It is commonplace that people claim to believe propositions that later turn out to be impossible. According to Barcan Marcus, the correct thing to say in such a situation is not: I once believed that A but I don’t believe it any longer since I have come to realize that it is impossible that A. What one should say is instead: It once appeared to me that I believed that A, but I did not, since it is impossible that A. Thus, Barcan Marcus defends what we might call Alice’s thesis: Necessarily, for any proposition p and any subject x, if x believes p, then p is possible. -/- Alice’s thesis that it is impossible to hold impossible beliefs, seems to come into conflict with our ordinary practices of attributing beliefs. Consider a mathematical example. Some mathematicians believe that CH (the continuum hypothesis) is true and others believe that it is false. But if CH is true, then it is necessarily true; and if it is false, then it is necessarily false. Regardless of whether CH is true or false, the conclusion seems to be that there are mathematicians who believe impossible propositions. -/- Examples of apparent beliefs in impossible propositions outside of mathematics are also easy to come by. Consider, for example, Kripke’s (1999) story of the Frenchman Pierre who without realizing it has two different names ‘London’ and ‘Londres’ for the same city, London. After having arrived in London, Pierre may assent to ‘Londres is beautiful and London is not beautiful’ without being in any way irrational. It seems reasonably to infer from this that Pierre believes that Londres is beautiful and London is not beautiful. But since ‘Londres’ and ‘London’ are rigid designators for the same city, it seems to follow from this that Pierre believes the inconsistent proposition that we may express as ‘London is both beautiful and not beautiful’. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Journal of the History of Ideas 67.4 (2006) 561-569 MuseSearchJournalsThis JournalContents[Access article in PDF]Introduction: Thinking about Idols in Early Modern EuropeJonathan Sheehan University of MichiganAbstractThis essay is an introduction to a collection of six articles on early modern debates about idolatry. If the debates started in religion, however, they quickly generated political, philosophical, anthropological, and even scientific corollaries. These may appear to be abstract and theoretical questions, but they (...) produced a complex set of answers with important consequences for many people. To see what was at stake, we need look no further than the New World and its missions. If the most frequently cited texts in the collection of articles are Bartolomé de las Casas and José de Acosta, it is because the New World forced the reality of idolatry onto the wider European stage.When does an image become a god? The early Christian apologist Minucius Felix had an answer. A log "is cut, is hewn, is planed," and is still no god. A stone "is sculptured, and is polished by some abandoned man" and still is no god. A sculpture "is set up, and even yet it is not a god." But, "lo, it is adorned, it is consecrated, it is prayed to—then at length it is a god, when man has chosen it to be so, and for the purpose has dedicated it." 1If only it were that easy. Felix offered just half of the story as David Freedberg has argued. Veneration does not produce that unhealthy power that idols exert over the attentive viewer. Rather, the opposite is true: idols are venerated because they exert this power. All images seem to contain at least traces of it. They draw our eye with ineluctable command, and force themselves on our attention. The image is just a representation, of course. It has been made by humans and can only ever gesture to an absent presence. And yet, images are also effective. Their ability to move us depends on "the possibility of fusion" between image and prototype. The crucifix is always only wood or stone, but its power comes from what might be called, with Freedberg, a "sacred contagion" that penetrates from behind the veil of representation. Indeed, its value as a religious object depends on this [End Page 561] contagion. Worshipers know that those tears shed by the Virgin in anguish at Christ's broken body are, in reality, just paint over mute stone and wood. Nevertheless, they are moved by those specks of material. If not, why have a statue in the first place? "The miraculous object has an effectiveness that proceeds as if the original body were present," Freedberg notes, "but the difficulty lies in cognitively grasping that 'as if.'" 2 Men do not choose to invest images with power over their imaginations and intellects. Even before images are prayed to, before they are consecrated, they already have that power.Whatever one thinks of the phenomenology of images, there is no doubt that this super-human power of idols obsessed many people in the early modern period. An object that had no power to inspire attention and devotion was hardly a threat, after all. The enormous waves of iconoclasm that swept across Europe—Germany in the 1520s, Scotland in the late 1550s, the Netherlands in the 1560s, England in the 1640s—were not directed at decorative tiles, pews, or doorstops. They were directed exactly at those things that made the devout feel the presence of the divine. And no one was quicker to identify these powerful images than the breakers themselves, who, in their extreme acts of rage, confirmed the effects that these supposedly dead bits of wood and stone exerted over them. The man in Ulm in 1534 who defecated into "the mouth of an effigy of Christ" demonstrated his extreme revulsion at what was, in reality, merely a lump of brute material. 3 Perhaps, if asked, he would have insisted that his scatological exuberance was designed to show definitively the impotence of the... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:American Journal of Philology 121.3 (2000) 453-478 [Access article in PDF] Plutarch's Lysander and Sulla: Integrated Characters in Roman Historical Perspective José María Candau Morón The term ritratto paradossale has been used to describe a formula of character portrayal seen in Latin literature of the first centuries B.C. and A.D. whose basic process consists in combining in one character apparently contradictory traits (La Penna 1976). To be precise, (...) the formula produced a type of man who in his moments of action shows energy, diligence, and constancy but exhibits licentious feelings, allows himself to be taken in by indolence, and succumbs to pleasures when his negotia are finished. This model may already have been present in Greek historical literature of the fourth century B.C., as the portrait of Philip II that the historian Theopompus delineates seems to bear this stamp. The public image of Maecenas and the Petronius of Tacitus are two clear examples of ritratto paradossale. The figure of Sulla also falls under this influence; in fact, according to La Penna (1976, 284), Plutarch's biography of Sulla often exhibits these same characteristics.The terms "paradox" and "paradoxical" also occur frequently in works devoted to Plutarch's Life of Lysander. Its paradoxical features are the central point of Pelling's comments (1988a, 268-74) on that biography. Pelling explores aspects of "integration" in the Parallel Lives, a technique of portrayal which he defines as follows: "a man's qualities are brought into some sort of relation with one another, and every trait goes closely with the next." 1 An almost universal literary habit in the [End Page 453] ancient world, integration appears even in a figure as complex and full of contrasts as Plutarch's Lysander. Arrogance and cruelty, incorruptibility and a capacity for adulation, duplicity, ingenuity, ambition, treachery: all the contradictions that coexist in him are seen to be unified through philotimia, a central trait that dominates Lysander's other characteristics and gives his portrayal a unified appearance.But Plutarch's interests in his Life of Lysander do not impel him to explain or reconstruct the traits of its protagonist. It is the contrasts and the paradoxes in Lysander that have drawn the author's attention and lend the biography its particular flavor. Plutarch shows how these diverse character traits work against the individual and end up destroying him. In this way, the biography of Lysander is similar to tragic works in which a character's potentialities unleash forces that ultimately defeat him, and Plutarch explicitly plans on parallelisms with the tragic genre. From this standpoint, Pelling concludes, Lysander offers a moral that is similar to that of tragedy and different from that of other biographies: human nature can produce a figure such as Lysander, and such figures tend to bring about their own destruction through appropriate tragic processes.Stadter (1992) has recently analyzed from start to finish the paradoxical character that Plutarch assigns to Lysander and also to Sulla, the protagonist of the Roman Life presented as his parallel. In Stadter's view the contradictions in each character--that is, the combination of admirable and repulsive traits--form the basis of the portrayal of both subjects. The biographer also contrives to cross the two Lives so as to convey that they form an ensemble. Among other things, we see a type of progression whose upper limit is delineated by the harshest components of the portrayal of Sulla: his destructive nature, bloodthirsty and implacable, his tyrannical and frequently arbitrary conduct, his arrogance and lack of humanity. These traits are only sketched in the parallel Greek Life; yet their presence there evokes sinister dimensions which horrify when they appear, full-blown, in the Roman counterpart. From this interplay of traits and personalities our understanding of the human type treated in the biographies becomes increasingly deep. The final result in the present instance is that we are enabled to recognize the true traits of Lysander's character, and so escape the difficulty that Plutarch alludes to in his prologue through a cryptic... (shrink)

"Ask two religious people one question, and you'll get three answers!" Why do religious people believe what they shouldn't--not what others think they shouldn't believe, but things that don't accord with their own avowed religious beliefs? This engaging book explores this puzzling feature of human behavior. D. Jason Slone terms this phenomenon "theological incorrectness." He demonstrates that it exists because the mind is built it such a way that it's natural for us to think divergent thoughts (...) simultaneously. Human minds are great at coming up with innovative ideas that help them make sense of the world, he says, but those ideas do not always jibe with official religious beliefs. From this fact we derive the important lesson that what we learn from our environment--religious ideas, for example--does not necessarily cause us to behave in ways consistent with that knowledge. Slone presents the latest discoveries from the cognitive science of religion and shows how they help us to understand exactly why it is that religious people do and think things that they shouldn't. He then applies these insights to three case studies. First he looks at why Theravada Buddhists profess that Buddha was just a man but actually worship him as a god. Then he explores why the early Puritan Calvinists, who believed in predestination, acted instead as if humans had free will by, for example, conducting witch-hunts and seeking converts. Finally, he explains why both Christians and Buddhists believe in luck even though the doctrines of Divine Providence and karma suggest there's no such thing. In seeking answers to profound questions about why people behave the way they do, this fascinating book sheds new light on the workings of the human mind and on the complex relationship between cognition and culture. (shrink)

Heidegger’s understanding of technology advances a conceptual critique of what he calls “the enframing” (Gestell), the epistemological and ontological presuppositions underlying technology. Reconstructing the central argument of Country Path Conversation (1945), the chapter focuses the positive contrast to “the enframing” Heidegger finds in the idea of Gelassenheit (“releasement”): releasement defines a form of life marked by an intellectual independence from technology achieved through a specific form of thinking. Drawing from Haugeland, section 1 establishes “enabling” as genuine sense of the German (...) verb lassen (to let); in contrast to the form of thinking determinative of technology, which Heidegger describes as imposing, the “released” and genuine form of human thinking is an enabling thinking. In sections 2 and 3, I reconstruct the reductio ad absurdum Heidegger uses to distance this form of thinking from forms of transcendental philosophy embracing (mediational) representationalism. In section 4, I highlight the (ontic) correlate of such thinking, namely the individual things (Dinge) manifest outside the horizon of understanding presupposed by technology. Not based on or anticipating any positive ontology, I argue that “enabling” thinking is ontologically non-committal. Section 5 contrasts this understanding of Gelassenheit with views advanced by Dreyfus, Rojcewicz, Belu, and Feenberg. (shrink)

When someone says she believes that God exists, is she expressing the same kind of mental state as when she says she thinks that a lake bigger than Lake Michigan exists⎯i.e., does she refer to the same kind of cognitive attitude in both cases? Using evidence from linguistic corpora (Study 1) and behavioral experiments (Studies 2-4), the current work provides evidence that individuals typically use the word “believe” more in conjunction with statements about religious credences and “think” more (...) in conjunction with factual statements, pointing to two different understandings of claims made with these two terms. These patterns do not appear to reflect low-level differences based on the amount of consensus surrounding a particular claim, the extent to which the truth of a particular claim is known to the participant, or linguistic differences between religious and factual statements. We discuss implications of these findings for religious cognition (e.g., as supporting the theory that religious credences are qualitatively distinct from factual beliefs) as well as cognitive processes more broadly. Finally, we relate the present findings to prior theoretical work on differences between factual belief and religious credence. (shrink)

Freud finds it impossible to accept the existence of a Supreme Being because he thinks that there is no way to scientifically demonstrate or prove the existence of a being so defined. Consequently, Freud maintains that individuals who claim to have a religious experience of God suffer from a delusion. Such individuals remain in an infantile state of neurotic denial, fooling themselves about the reality of extramental existence.In contradistinction, Max Scheler, a student of Husserlian phenomenology, can accept the (...) existence of God because he finds that God. understood as the summum bonum, is the superlative value to which humanity can give assent in the religious act. Within the context of the religious act, an individual can come to discover or realize God. But this discovery is not made through a scientific demonstration or proof. Unlike Freud, Scheler shows that this discovery comes about via a phenomenological methodology which endorses a broader view of experience. Scheler ultimately makes the further claim that those individuals, like the scientist, who choose not to engage in the religious act are, in fact, involved in a delusional state.So, both thinkers claim that the other is in a delusional state. The task I undertake in this paper is to place these two thinkers into dialogue with one another in order to evaluate their specific methodologies. First, I explicate Freud’s view of religion. In doing so, I make explicit Freud’s empirical methodology and mechanistic materialism which is the root for his claim that God exists as an illusion or “wretched makeshift” of the neurotic unconscious mind. Next, I present the Schelerian response to Freud and positivistic science by making explicit the parameters of the religious act which recognizes God as the superlative value. Finally, I assess the views of Freud and Scheler, and in so doing, show that Scheler’s phenomenological methodology, with its emphasis upon bracketing empirical presuppositions, has merit in that it broadens experience beyond merely what is scientifically observed. We see that Freud’s claim that all experience needs to be scientifically demonstrated is too narrow a view of experience. And so, by denying other types of possible epistemologies and methodologies, he and his followers of the empirical methodology of strict positivism involve themselves in a delusional state by not accepting these approaches to extramental reality. However, I maintain that the psychoanalytic method advocated by Freud has merit in that it can be a useful aid to a person involved in or seeking to be involved in the religious act. In the end I show how it is possible to view the empirical methodology of Freud and the phenomenological methodology of Scheler as coexisting and harmonizing with one another. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Rome's Religious History: Livy, Tacitus and Ammianus on Their GodsHans-Friedrich MuellerJason P. Davies. Rome's Religious History: Livy, Tacitus and Ammianus on Their Gods. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004. x + 341 pp. Cloth, $85.Did the Romans believe in their gods? This question, Davies argues, has too long dominated scholarship on Roman religion, and his challenging book eschews this question (along with its dichotomous counterpart: skepticism), aiming (...) instead to engage vigorously more recent scholarship on Roman religion. Davies has read Livy, Tacitus, and Ammianus Marcellinus with sensitive attention to expressions of general religious sentiment and categories, and he has placed his findings squarely in the context of current historiographical analyses of Roman religion's literary functions. Davies sums up nicely: "What we seek here is the nature of the complex cognitive relationship between historiography and religion" (12). Generally excluded from the conversation are scholars who are deceased and who do not write in English. More rigorously excluded are cross-references to ancient authors beyond Davies' chosen three (although they do creep in from time to time, one will not come to this book for Cicero, Caesar, Sallust, Valerius Maximus, Velleius Paterculus, Suetonius, Dionysius of Halicarnassus, Plutarch, et al.). Instead, Davies attempts by well-enunciated and conscious choice to conduct a series of experiments: he reads each of his chosen authors in isolation in order to build a coherent and consistent picture of the religious system of each in close conversation with the last two decades' debates on what Roman religion was really about.Although I shall in due course address my own reservations about his methodology, I would argue that we may applaud Davies for his experimental daring. The progress of knowledge requires room for failures as well as successes. We learn from both, and Davies brings before us three separate experiments: two chapters on Livy and one each on Tacitus and Ammianus. Starting from the premise that for the Romans the gods existed, and that Roman society's basic intellectual framework was "Roman religion" (whatever this may have meant to its many and varied practitioners over the course of the centuries preceding Livy), Davies' fresh readings describe what this religion appears to have entailed for each of his chosen authors. Each of those readings yields an instance or "moment" in the history of the religions of Rome and, as such, is a contribution to "Rome's religious history" (thus fulfilling, to this extent, the promise of the volume's title).After a general introduction outlining this methodology (chap. 1), Davies devotes the next two chapters to Livy (chap. 2: "Livy and the Invention of Roman Religion" and chap. 3: "Gods and Men in Livy"). We find, as we would expect, some discussion of Papirius Cursor, who in 293 B.C.E. arose in the third watch of the night to solicit the requisite impetrative auspicium before engaging the Samnites in battle (Livy 10.40.2). Papirius consulted a keeper of the sacred chickens, who announced a tripudium solistimum, despite the fact that the chickens would not eat (10.40.4). On the basis of this false report, Papirius declares that the auspicium [End Page 313] is excellent (egregium), and he orders the troops to prepare for battle (10.40.5). Papirius' nephew, however, learns from some of the cavalry who had overheard an argument among the pullarii that the pullarius' report was suspect, and he dutifully informs his uncle (10.40.9–10). Livy describes the youth as a "iuuenis ante doctrinam deos spernentem natus" (10.40.10). Papirius subsequently commends the youth but commences battle (ultimately victorious) on the grounds that the report he had requested and received itself constituted the auspicium, regardless of these other circumstances, and that any consequences for mendacity would be borne by the liar (10.40.11). The keepers of the sacred chickens are ordered to the front line, and the guilty pullarius is struck, and mortally wounded, by a javelin (10.40.12–13). This the consul interprets in turn as confirmation of his own interpretation of the auspicium as well as expiation of wrongdoing by the guilty party; the consul's statement to this effect... (shrink)

When attempting to answer the question, in the context of clinical healthcare, one might be tempted to leap to either of two rather obvious, but seemingly contradictory conclusions. On the one hand, we might have a general impression of religion not making much of a distinctive and clear difference, at least in the actions and outcomes of most cases of clinical interaction. Those of us in the bioethics world of discourse are likely to think only of the less common cases (...) of Christian Scientists, Jehovah's Witnesses, Orthodox Jews, or certain religious groups who seem to the majority of the population to hold especially sectarian, if not beliefs about medical matters. The so-called mainstream religious groups do not get much attention because they largely don't cause much trouble ; they have learned to bracket their religious commitments from at least any professional settings ; or they don't hold views entailing consequences any different from those of most nonbelieving, generally upright individuals. Furthermore, although religious believers may have some distinctive views, these views don't often noticeably manifest themselves in distinctive or significant ways. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Two Different “Religious Experience vs Psychopathology” DistinctionsAwais Aftab, MD (bio)Mohammed Rashed’s analysis of the distinction between “religious experience” and “psychopathology” challenges the assumptions that underlie traditional efforts to make such a distinction and he arrives at a provocative and memorable conclusion: “The distinction between religious experience and mental disorder can only be invoked from a secular standpoint but can only be clarified from a religious (...) standpoint. In other words: if you have the grounds to invoke it, you cannot have the tools to clarify it; and if you have the tools to clarify it, you do not have the grounds to invoke it” (Rashed, 2024). (For another recent discussion that challenges underlying assumptions of this dichotomy, see Gipps and Clark (2024) on the distinction between religious delusion and religious belief.)There is great merit in Rashed’s analysis, and I am in agreement with many aspects of the discussion. In particular, I admire Rashed’s ability here, as well as elsewhere (Rashed, 2021), to break the impasse of definitional debates by deconstructing and destabilizing the distinctions involved. In this commentary I’d like to note some points of disagreement and qualification that I hope can move Rashed’s analysis forward in a constructive way.The first thing I want to bring up is that Rashed defines religious experience very broadly: “Psychological distress or anomalous experience that has a religious origin, content, or end (purpose).” This effectively turns the distinction between religious experience and psychopathology into an instance of the general distinction between the religious worldview and the secular worldview. “Mental disorder” is understood by Rashed to be an exclusively secular concept. I am not sure this way of framing the dichotomy is entirely correct. If our notion of “religious experience” include any anomalous experiences believed to serve a religious purpose, then Rashed is correct that for the religious no anomalous experience would be excluded. And if “mental disorder” requires giving up on the idea of a divine purpose for our [End Page 211] suffering, then indeed the religious do not have the grounds to invoke it.I’d suggest that a better approach may be to think of two different “religious experience vs psychopathology” distinctions, one within the context of the religious worldview and one within the context of the secular worldview. Both are fuzzy and present demarcation problems of their own; both can be and ought to be destabilized.Rashed recognizes that the religious worldview does make space for illness and disease; it’s just that he says even these concepts are understood within a broader religious view of suffering:the proposal is not that religious traditions have no category of distress that is somatic in nature—of course they do—but that even with those categories, religion is never far off the horizon and will make an appearance at some point, if not in the origin or content of distress, then in terms of its broader purpose and so the recommended interventions.(Rashed, 2024, pp. 201)A vital implication of this is that the distinction between religious experience and a secular view of somatic illness would pose the same problem as the distinction between religious experience and mental illness; the religious would not have grounds to invoke it, for no illness is devoid of religious significance. And yet, the religious do meaningfully talk of “illnesses” and “diseases,” and they do meaningfully talk of “madness” (if not mental illness), and many often do meaningfully differentiate between madness and mysticism. This shows that the religious worldview has its own notions of disease and psychopathology, which differ from their secular counterparts in the sense that suffering involved is imbued with a divine purpose. The religious scholars interested in differentiating between the anomalous nature of the mystical experience and the anomalous nature of madness are interested, in part, in marking out abnormalities of thought and behavior so severe that they come to resemble the effects of somatic illness. Madness is where the internal coherence of the mystical experience breaks down, and becomes an instance of suffering at par with somatic illness.The secular worldview recognizes the phenomenology of religious experience—there is religious or mystical content—but... (shrink)

This chapter contains sections titled: A Militant Agnostic: My Personal Religious Journey Theist, Atheist, Agnostic – What Is in a Name? What Is God? Evidence that Man Created God and Not Vice Versa My ET Gambit: Shermer's Last Law and the Scientific Search for God The Natural and the Supernatural.

Hannah Arendt notably remarked that thinking, understood as the non-conclusive inner dialogue of “me” with “myself,” is most indispensable in those historical moments when “things fall apart.” War often occasions such moments, not just because of the moral and political turmoil that accompanies it or the physical damage it inflicts upon people and their environments, but also because of its absurdity; this latter feature, the absurdity of war, is captured by Stanislav Aseyev, a Donetsk-born Ukrainian writer, in his books (...) In Isolation: Dispatches from Occupied Donbas and The Torture Camp on Paradise Street. In this essay, I argue that Aseyev’s reflections on Russian occupation, imprisonment, and torture demonstrate both the special value of Arendt’s “thinking” for those enduring war and violence and reveal a pre-moral-political capacity of “thinking” latent but never explicit in Arendt’s work: the power to cope with the absurd qua absurd. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Journal of the History of Ideas 63.4 (2002) 599-617 [Access article in PDF] Thinking Geometrically in Pierre-Daniel Huet's Demonstratio evangelica (1679) April G. Shelford Sometime after 1679, Pierre-Daniel Huet (1630-1721) indulged an author's vanity by comparing his Demonstratio evangelica with works whose authors are far better known today. He recorded his judgments on a scrap of paper. 1First, he contrasted the Demonstratio to Antoine Arnauld's Les nouveaux élémens de (...) géometrie (1664). While Arnauld had assumed that all the principles of geometry were true and all geometrical demonstrations certain, and had considered religious questions not amenable to methodical demonstration, Huet noted, "I made clear the contrary by proving religion through a methodical sequence of propositions similar to those one finds in geometry." For Arnauld religious belief fell into the class of things better proven through a series of mutually reinforcing propositions than through proofs modeled on geometry; Huet had actually accomplished the latter. Arnauld did not require geometric proofs in religious works; Huet wrote the Demonstratio "to satisfy those who do." Indeed, Arnauld forbade such proofs, "but I permitted them... and I proposed something to satisfy those who do [demand them]."Huet then considered Blaise Pascal's Pensées (1670). Pascal had also rejected demonstration in proving religious truths, Huet noted, opting instead for "moral proofs, which are directed more to the heart than to the mind. In other words he desired to work harder at moving and disposing the heart than at convincing and persuading the intellect." Apparently, "M. Pascal did not believe that one could prove the truth of the Christian religion by geometric proofs; much less that he had any hope of doing so." [End Page 599]Huet's jottings precisely situate the Demonstratio evangelica (1679)between the claims of Cartesian rationalism and Pascal's fideism and religion of the heart, inviting us to take another look at an imperfectly understood work. Scholarly treatment of the Demonstratio has generally been cursory or partial because it has been considered less for its own merits than for how it fits into larger research agendas. 2 Some scholars have offered important insights but either do not develop them or do not consider the Demonstratio in a sufficiently broad context. 3 A consensus on the Demonstratio's general thrust thus masks puzzling questions. Everyone acknowledges, for example, that Huet's apologetic responded to Baruch Spinoza's Tractatus theologico-politicus (1670). Like other Christian apologists, he had to maintain "the Mosaic authorship" that was "the supposed guarantee of the truth of the text," 4 devoting "long chapters to the authenticity of the books of the Old Testament." 5 Yet Huet began the Demonstratio with an assault on geometrical knowledge and an epistemological discussion—an odd place to begin refuting the Tractatus. 6 Why? The question deserves a good answer, as Huet was a scholar of international reputation, and his contemporaries judged the Demonstratio an important work. 7More important for us, the evolution of the Demonstratio superbly reflects a vanished intellectual world and scholarly culture and in fact records change [End Page 600] in that world over four decades. Its genesis was the rash promise of a young man inspired by the possibilities of geometry and aspiring to recognition in the Republic of Letters, but before fulfilling that promise Huet developed a lively interest in such diverse fields as biblical criticism and natural philosophy, and he would apply the insights gained there in his apologetic. 8 A central question confronting Huet and his contemporaries was how to achieve certainty in matters religious, historical, and scientific. 9 The Demonstratio reveals Huet's conclusion that certainty in all three was profoundly interrelated. Finally, he composed the Demonstratio during the 1670s, having grasped with much alarm the consequences of the spread of Cartesianism. Thus, the Demonstratio is an intellectual biography not just of the author but of an era.Of course, Huet had to contend with Spinoza's challenge to Mosaic authorship, which fatally undermined the historical certainty of the Bible, but he also wrote... (shrink)

A vivid and accessible new translation of Cicero’s influential writings on the Stoic idea of the divine Most ancient Romans were deeply religious and their world was overflowing with gods—from Jupiter, Minerva, and Mars to countless local divinities, household gods, and ancestral spirits. One of the most influential Roman perspectives on religion came from a nonreligious belief system that is finding new adherents even today: Stoicism. How did the Stoics think about religion? In How to Think about God, Philip (...) Freeman presents vivid new translations of Cicero's On the Nature of the Gods and The Dream of Scipio. In these brief works, Cicero offers a Stoic view of belief, divinity, and human immortality, giving eloquent expression to the religious ideas of one of the most popular schools of Roman and Greek philosophy. On the Nature of the Gods and The Dream of Scipio are Cicero's best-known and most important writings on religion, and they have profoundly shaped Christian and non-Christian thought for more than two thousand years, influencing such luminaries as Augustine, Thomas Aquinas, Dante, and Thomas Jefferson. These works reveal many of the religious aspects of Stoicism, including an understanding of the universe as a materialistic yet continuous and living whole in which both the gods and a supreme God are essential elements. Featuring an introduction, suggestions for further reading, and the original Latin on facing pages, How to Think about God is a compelling guide to the Stoic view of the divine. (shrink)

According to a once-standard view, imagination has little or no role in action guidance: its motivating power, if any, is limited to pretence play. In recent years this view has been challenged by accounts that take imagination to motivate action also beyond pretence, for instance in the domain of religion and conspiracy-related thinking. Following this trend, I propose a new argument in favour of imagination’s motivating power based on a class of actions that has not yet received much (...) consideration in the imagination literature: what I call ‘superstitious–magical actions’. These actions are extremely pervasive in our lives and reveal imagination’s motivating power to be larger than many take it to be. By analysing them I show not only that imagination motivates very often, but also how it does so – that is, what the dynamics of motivation by imagination are. (shrink)

Recent philosophy of religion, particularly neo-Wittgensteinian philosophy of religion, has reminded philosophers that there is more to religion than belief and, indeed, that there is more to religious belief than mere belief. D. Z. Phillips is among those who have made a contribution here. He has emphasized how religious belief is very different from the kind of belief that amounts to holding a hypothesis, even a God-hypothesis. However, perhaps because of his non-cognitivist tendencies, Phillips, unlike Kierkegaard to whom (...) he often appeals, has failed to bring into relief another quintessential fact about belief in God, namely that it is for the believer an entered relationship with God. We do well to appreciate that belief in God is not identical with making a truth claim. But if the essential core of religious belief is construed as an attitudinal or affective response, as non-cognitivists tend to construe it, an important conceptual dimension of religious faith will all but be overlooked, as, paradoxically it seems it has been by the philosophical approach that strives to describe the religious ‘form of life’ in its own terms. In what follows I shall endeavour to bring into relief what I take to be an essential dimension of religious belief, one which presupposes that religious belief is an entered relationship for the believer. This I shall do by pursuing a contrast which, I think, at once clarifies and makes undeniable religious belief's essential nature as a relationship to God. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Religious Pluralism and Christian TruthJoseph S. O’Leary has been named recipient of the 1998 Frederick J. Streng Book Award for his 1996 volume, Religious Pluralism and Christian Truth. Dr. O’Leary was born in Cork, Ireland, in 1949. He studied literature, theology, and philosophy in Maynooth, Rome, and Paris. After teaching briefly in the United States (University of Notre Dame and Duquesne University), he moved to Japan in (...) 1983. He has worked in association with the Nanzan Institute for Religion and Culture and currently teaches English literature at Sophia University (with special emphasis on Joyce and the modernist period) and a course on Japanese values at International Christian University.He has been working on a trilogy in fundamental theology that has taken on an increasingly interreligious character. The first volume is Questioning Back: The Overcoming of Metaphysics in Christian Tradition (Minneapolis: Winston/Seabury, 1985), reviewed in Buddhist-Christian Studies in 1987; a French version is in preparation. The second volume appeared first as La verite chretienne a l’age du pluralisme religieux (Paris: Cerf, 1994) and then as Religious Pluralism and Christian Truth (Edinburgh University Press, 1996). Joseph O’Leary is also coeditor of Heidegger et la question de Dieu (Paris: Grasset, 1980) and Buddhist Spirituality (vols. 8 and 9 of World Spirituality, New York: Crossroad, 1993 and 1999).Terry Muck: Why did you write this book?Joseph O’Leary: My earlier book, Questioning Back: The Overcoming of Metaphysics in Christian Tradition, advocated deconstruction of the Greek and Hebrew elements in Christian theology—the need for a radical retrieval of the tradition in the spirit of Heidegger’s “step back” from metaphysical systems to the original phenomena. In Religious Pluralism and Christian Truth, I broadened the horizon to see all religion as historical, cultural constructs growing and changing through mutual interaction. Living in Japan brought me a liberating sense of historical and cultural relativity and with it the sense that the Christian tradition should be thought of as an essentially incomplete project, always reaching out to other traditions in search of a fuller vision.But that discovery did not mean giving up on the Christian tradition.No. Rather than sitting back and enjoying the pluralism, I found myself more and more concerned with the question of truth. Followers of Jacques Derrida assured me that “truth” has been exposed as a historical myth. Struggling with Derrida I found rather a recontextualization of the value of truth. Moreover, the “situated truth” (always relative to a given context in culture and praxis) of historically formulated dogmatic propositions turned out to be quite defensible despite Derrida’s demolition [End Page 239] of notions of truth as totality (Hegel) or truth as presence (Heidegger). Christianity has nothing to fear from opening itself up to its historical relativity. Buddhism has long accepted the provisionality of all religious expressions. I focused especially on the notion of skillful means and on the theory of the two truths (conventional and ultimate) in Madhyamaka Buddhism.What does this “opening up” do to traditional Christian doctrines?The notion of God is not only compatible with such a relativized view of the status of religious language, but demands it. The biblical discourse about God consists in a constant deconstruction of old images of God by new ones. As for the role of Jesus Christ, Incarnation is an ongoing event in that the historical significance of Jesus is still unfolding. The uniqueness of Jesus resides not in some ontological amalgamation of divinity and humanity but in the specifics of his historical role. God’s Word is spoken in other ways elsewhere, indeed is spoken in all things, and its specifically “fleshly” (human and historical) and “eschatological” manifestation in the unfolding of the Jesus story should not be divorced from these wider contexts.How have these ideas been received?The most flattering response has come from the Society for Buddhist-Christian Studies in granting me the Frederick J. Streng Book Award. Streng’s book, Emptiness, which I read in Pittsburgh in 1982, opened my eyes to the world of Madhyamaka thought.Any criticisms?Predictably, the book has come under fire from two opposing camps. The Revue Thomiste reviewer claimed that I could... (shrink)

This chapter begins with a discussion of Levinas's views about Christianity. It then considers four important issues that do not fall along the fault line that divides Jews and Christians from each other but rather represent issues each community must face both internally and in dialogue with each other.

The author brings to the study of the two concepts of "religious" and "secular" the same intellectual honesty and analytical rigor that we met in his early work Pacifism: An Historical and Sociological Study. This is a "book of demolition" which attempts to eliminate the term "secularization" from the vocabulary of sociology due to the simple-minded fashion in which the word has been applied to describe the decline of religious faith in the present day. He tries to show (...) that the term is not monolithic and cannot be used legitimately merely to support some ideological perspective. It is rooted in various ideologies of utopianism and betrays many elements which were derived from Christianity. Certain identities of structure which he calls "an ontological privileged strata" are present--Israel as the Chosen People, Intelligentsia, Proletariat-who think of themselves as "seers" who bear the truth on behalf of the world. He mentions such examples as scientific messianism and Marxist messianism which have tried to translate the monism of nature into the monism of society so as to collapse certain dialectical opposites in Judaism and Christianity--e.g., God and Man, Heaven and Earth, Church and State--and to convert certain undefensible metaphysical views into technical issues which can be subjected to the strategies spun out by rational planning. Having pointed out the complementary relationship between the "religious" and the "secular," Martin proceeds to examine so-called secularization in music, theology, and sociology. In conclusion, Martin indicates that the application of these two concepts can be made only if the institutional setting and historical background is kept firmly in view, and he shows convincingly that it is not "a simple convergent process consequent on industrialism and the scientific and technological revolution."--J. B. L. (shrink)

Richard Dawkins has popularized an argument that he thinks sound for showing that there is almost certainly no God. It rests on the assumptions (1) that complex and statistically improbable things are more difficult to explain than those that are not and (2) that an explanatory mechanism must show how this complexity can be built up from simpler means. But what justifies claims about the designer’s own complexity? One comes to a different understanding of order and of simplicity (...) when one considers the psychological counterpart of information. In assessing his treatment of biological organisms as either self-programmed machines or algorithms, I show how self-generated organized complexity does not fit well with our knowledge of abduction and of information theory as applied to genetics. I also review some philosophical proposals for explaining how the complexity of the world could be externally controlled if one wanted to uphold a traditional understanding of divine simplicity. (shrink)

The article is a presentation and analysis of the main provisions of 16 works of the world's leading experts on religious tourism and pilgrimage, published in a special issue of the International Journal of Religious Tourism and Pilgrimage. 2020. Vol.8. This special issue was dedicated to the impact of the COVID-19 pandemic on religious tourism, and in particular pilgrimage, in the world. Religious tourism has a strong socio-cultural potential and demand - it is the value status (...) of any person who feels the need for cultural, religious and recreational facilities important for spiritual, ideological and physical existence. It is also the availability of opportunities to meet the social and cultural needs of people in tourism services, because it has such a socio-cultural characteristic as a social practice that changes a person and positions him in the social space. Religious tourism became in the XXI century. significant, socially significant phenomenon. But the current pandemic has dealt a very painful blow to the entire tourism sector of the world economy, including religious tourism. Under the influence of the pandemic, the country banned pilgrimage. So the question arose: what's next? Is there a radical transformation of the religious life of mankind, including religious tourism? Isn't this the beginning of the end of religions, as some sociologists of the past predicted? This article is devoted to finding answers to these and other, no less complex, questions. The author set a goal - based on the analysis of the latest research on the impact of the COVID-19 pandemic on religious tourism to identify and present those important points that are already relevant for religious tourism in Ukraine, as well as those that are just beginning to appear and will be relevant in the post. -pandemic era. In almost all articles of this Special Issue, the authors emphasized that religious tourism and pilgrimage are very sustainable and will meet the challenges posed by the pandemic. The question for the religious tourism and pilgrimage industry is how they will develop and transform new approaches that will help the growth strategies of key stakeholders. However, due to pandemic restrictions, it may not be possible to resume travel to holy sites and pilgrimage sites and trails without the assistance of national governments, international agencies, and relief organizations. Thus, the authors predict that the religious tourism industry will face very difficult circumstances in the near future. All articles in the special issue of this journal express extremely relevant, deep and valuable opinions of scientists, which make us all think about what lessons Ukraine should learn about religious tourism, and in particular pilgrimage, and what should be its state policy and public opinion in this regard. further. And the author in the conclusions expresses her point of view on the content of these lessons, based on the views set out in this article of the world's best experts in religious tourism and pilgrimage. (shrink)

Morris, Brian The dust has not settled on this year's disastrous Census, yet already there are calls to amend the question on Religious Affiliation. While the latest change brought Australia into line with most Western countries - by placing 'No Religion' as first option - elements of the 'not-quite-religious' community feel bitterly aggrieved.

This response focuses on Balibar’s method of thinking transindividuality through multiple figures, in their similarities as well as their productive differences. His essay ‘Philosophies of the Transindividual: Spinoza, Marx, Freud’ combines the three titular figures in order to better think the multifaceted idea of ‘classical’ transindividuality. Balibar’s method combines the three but nonetheless maintains their dissimilarities as real differences. This response attempts to test or apply that method in two ways. The first application links Balibar’s analysis of Freud’s hypnotic leader (...) with a theme Balibar does not here discuss: wonder’s connection to superstition in Spinoza. At the level of their effects, superstitious wonder and hypnosis are nearly identical transindividual processes which lead to affective mass formation. However, their causes are quite distinct. This response details the similar effects and different causes, then asks the question: does their difference render them irreconcilable or complementary? Given the prominent role Spinoza plays in Balibar’s work, and the strong overall equivalence of wonder and hypnosis, this first application of Balibar’s method of multiple combination likely presents a complementarity rather than a conflict. This response’s second application, attempting to integrate another figure into the transindividual multiple, presents greater difficulties: what role, if any, could Foucault play in Balibar’s transindividuality? With Foucault, the tensions or differences perhaps amount to fundamental and thoroughgoing incompatibilities. However, combining Foucault with ‘classical’ transindividuality potentially extends and deepens each. This response concludes with examples of these problematic tensions as well as possibly fruitful combinations. (shrink)

For one to simply think, philosophy as a rational investigation of truths and principles of knowledge, being, and conduct, that is, philosophy as a "science," is not required. For thinking, what requisite is a reason, a human endowment constitutive of one's intelligence. One only needs a mind to be able to think. But something more is exigent for one to think twice, is to think again, to reconsider and see something from a different perspective. To think things twice, one (...) needs a conscious apprehension of the notion of truth, a deliberate and critical engagement with principles, and a learned competency of habits of thinking that discloses the eternal freshness of reality. These are the elements that constitute philosophy not simply as a way of life, but as an academic discipline with methods and theories. Here lies philosophy's vocational relevance. Thinking things twice is not the mental disorder of indecisiveness or the unfortunate product of capriciousness. To think things twice is the stubborn instinct of human intelligence which remains restless in entrenched patterns of thought. The apprehension of the possibility of thinking things twice is the initial promise of liberation, the first step towards unshackling the mind and its powers from mental scripts that do not give birth to creativity. This explains why it is said that in the domain of philosophical discourses, questions always outlive their answers. Indeed, though philosophy, in its many faces and guises, has offered opinions, beliefs and sometimes divergent truths to the fundamental questions of life. The more important are the questions asked than the answers proffered. The convoluted transformations and shifting grounds in the history of ideas show to us how, philosophically considered, answers have no finality. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:530 BOOK REVIEWS I think none of these books contains a wholly satisfactory treatment of the particular issues it takes up. Taken together, however, they do show that evil presents not just one but many problems to reflective religious minds. In addition, they make it perfectly evident that not just one but many academic disciplines continue to have helpful things to say in response to these gripping (...) perplexities. University of Notre Dame Notre Dame, Indiana PHILIP L. QUINN Di,alogue with the Other: The Inter-religious Dialogue. By DAVID TRACY. Louvain Theological and Pastoral Monographs, 1. Louvain : Peeters; Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1990. Pp. 123. $12.95. With this book David Tracy continues the hermeneutical project he launched in the Analogical Imagination: a concern to converse with the classics and to encounter the ' other '. However, here the ' other ' is extended beyond the traditional Western classics to the religions of the world and the often neglected archaic traditions. Tracy is surely correct when he says: " I believe that we are fast approaching the day when it will not be possible to attempt Christian systematic theology except in serious conversation with the other great ways" (p. xi). Here he follows a pioneering line drawn in Chicago by Tillich, Eliade and Kitagawa. Tracy brings to this venerable tradition his particular concern with hermeneutics and his experience with Jewish-Christian and Buddhist-Christian dialogue. The essays are further united by Tracy's desire to restore the unity between the mystical and prophetic within the Christian tradition. Employing Kenneth Burke's analysis of rhetoric, Chapter one shows that Freud and Lacan can be interpreted in terms of a clash of prophetic and mystical rhetorics respectively. Both are concerned with the ' other ', Freud more instrumentally and didactically and Lacan more subversively and anarchically but not nihilistically or in the way of Zen. In this chapter Tracy has a tendency towards overdetermination. Still, the brunt of his argument is that all discourse has concealed foundations, the archaeology of which will help illuminate the opera· tive rhetoric. Furthermore, the mystical/prophetic typology used in religion can illuminate secular issues, viz., the debate between Freud and Lacan. However, Tracy does not pay full attention to the nature of the 'other', but too easily assimilates it. For instance, is Freud's attention to the subconscious analogous to religious rhetoric's regarding the otherness of God? And does it really serve Tracy's purpose to start BOOK REVIEWS 531 the book by remammg within such very western waters despite the brave navigational direction he charted in the introduction? Chapter two revisits the classics: he uses the writings of William James to throw light on the criteria for interreligious dialogue. These criteria are used to affirm the authenticity of religions; these are not intended to " replace the dialogue but, at best, heuristically to inform it" (p. 27). Tracy offers a good and sensitive appreciation of James (despite his anachronistic elements), but his conclusions are somewhat thinly related to James's work and relate more closely to Tracy's own hermeneutical approach. The three criteria that he advances are: first, the notion of " immediate luminousness," understood as manifestation in a Heideggerian sense (and in keeping with von Balthasar) ; second, the necessity of coherence, understood as the compatibility of religious belief with science, art, and other humanistic traditions; and third, an ethical-pragmatic criterion related to James's notion of "fruits." With regard to the second, Tracy is aware of the problem of assuming a neutral form of "reason" in adjudicating such coherence. Still, his study would have been more helpful with specific examples to highlight some of the intractable problems in such a task. For instance, autonomy has been granted to the sciences by most western Christians but has not been by some other religious traditions in certain parts of the world, and so the notion of coherence begs the question. Tracy needs to grapple with the issues raised by Macintyre and Winch (among others) to move beyond the potentially sterile dichotomy implied in his notion of coherence. With regard to the third criterion there is question begging, too. Would Abraham have passed this test in his willingness to kill his son? Or... (shrink)

Religious disagreement is an emerging topic of interest in social epistemology. Little is known about how philosophers react to religious disagreements in a professional context, or how they think one should respond to disagreement. This paper presents results of an empirical study on religious disagreement among philosophers. Results indicate that personal religious beliefs, philosophical training, and recent changes in religious outlook have a significant impact on philosophers' assessments of religious disagreement. They regard peer disagreement (...) about religion as common, and most surveyed participants assume one should accord weight to the other's opinion. Theists and agnostics are less likely to assume they are in a better epistemic position than their interlocutors about religious questions compared with atheists, but this pattern only holds for participants who are not philosophers of religion. Continental philosophers think religious beliefs are more like preferences than analytic philosophers, who regard religious beliefs as fact-like. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Capitalism as Religion and Religious Pluralism:An Approach from Liberation TheologyJung Mo Sungreligious pluralism and the struggle of the godsReligious pluralism as a social fact, namely, the coexistence of different religions within a social system, be it a country or an empire, is not anything new. The mere contact with other people and their various religions, for example, through commerce, still does not indicate religious pluralism. In this (...) case, each group of people has its religion and its gods, and recognizes that other groups of people exist with other religions and other gods. Religious pluralism occurs when, because of immigration or the conquest of one people over another, groups of people with different religions live together in the same social space.Whether by immigration or by conquest, the resulting religious pluralism does not occur in an egalitarian or harmonious manner. Immigrants are forced to live out their religion within their group as a marginal religion in society, or even in hiding when it is not accepted in the society where they went to seek a livelihood. In the case of conquest or expansion of empires, the conquering power imposes its cultural values and religion on the conquered peoples. The empire can try to extinguish the religions of conquered peoples and impose their own as if it is the only one acceptable, or tolerate them as long as these religions do not question the imperial order. This means that the coexistence of different religions within the empire takes place in a hierarchical relationship: The religion of the empire is the ultimate and the others are tolerated provided they accept their place as subordinate. The Roman Empire was an example of an empire that tolerated the religions of subject peoples as long as they didn’t question the absolute power of the empire, with its own empire religion and emperor worship.In this historical context, it is empirically impossible to live out a third way: recognizing the otherness of the other and respecting their religion as we respect our [End Page 155] own. That’s because the “encounter” between religions takes place in a situation of colonial conquest and domination. Expecting that there could be a relationship of respect and dialogue among equals would ignore the role of religion in premodern societies, especially in the processes of domination.In these societies, religion has the function of being the foundation of the world-view that legitimized the existing social order, as well as the process of external conquest. Religion fulfills the function of legitimizing and justifying the conquest and consequent exploitation and oppression of the conquered people. Therefore, religion performs a key task for systems of oppression, the reversal of evil into good: conquest as peace; exploitation as the path to salvation or integration into civilization. Furthermore, religion transcendentalizes the imperial system of oppression and presents it as eternal or as an expression of divine will. Therefore, how to classify religions and manage their coexistence is not just a problem for religious leaders, but also a matter of the state, a matter of interest for the king or emperor. The limits of religious tolerance are determined by the interests of the dominant social system, even when they are often discussed in religious or theological language.Of course, no religion, even those that perform the function of legitimizing an empire, is totally homogeneous. Within a religion, there is or can be a certain “theological pluralism.” The figure of Las Casas in the Spanish conquest of America is an example of the contradictions that are in all religions. But the defense of the Indians and their religion that was made by Las Casas had to be made in the court of the king of Spain. The means of evangelization and the ways of seeing the culture and religion of the Indians (i.e., the other) is a problem of the state, and not just the Church.Before thinking about the ideal of a religious pluralism that makes possible “a fraternal living together of religions as also a covenant of all those in favor of Peace and the Common Good of Humanity and the Planet,”1 we must also remember that the Bible... (shrink)

Since pragmatic arguments for agnostic religious commitment do not require one to believe on insufficient evidence, they avoid one of the moral objections to pragmatic arguments for belief in God: the objection that one should not believe on insufficient evidence. However, I will argue that pragmatic arguments for agnostic religious commitment must deal with two related moral objections. First, if we have a duty to investigate the truth in matters of importance to our behavior, then making such a (...) commitment turns out to conflict to some extent with that duty, though not, I think, to an unacceptable degree. Second, some people have a conception of God and the religious life such that making an agnostic religious commitment may interfere with the person's ability to reflect on moral matters and act on her conclusions, thus putting her at greater risk of doing the wrong thing. (shrink)

This paper critically examines the claim that supposed religious experiences of God are not based on “intersubjective evidence.” I examine how “intersubjective evidence” has been construed in the literature, and argue that those specifications do not succeed in marking off a way in which supposed experiences of God are not based on “intersubjective evidence.” I then specify a sense of “intersubjective evidence” that I think successfully shows how such experiences are not based on intersubjective evidence. I also show that (...) “intersubjective evidence” does not mean the same thing as “public” but that God can be an object of “public” knowledge. (shrink)

There is a direct relationship between epistemology and one's attitude toward those with whom one disagrees. Those who think that the truth is difficult to ascertain can be expected, other things equal, to tend to tolerate (in the sense of sympathizing with) those with whom they disagree, as the blameless victims of an opaque reality. Those who think that the truth is easy to ascertain can be expected, other things equal, to tend to be intolerant (in the sense (...) of being unsympathetic) toward those with whom they disagree, who perversely refuse to acknowledge what should be clear to any well-intentioned inquirer. However, these tendencies toward tolerant or intolerant attitudes can be offset by other factors; and they do not, in any case, necessarily dictate whether one will favor tolerant or intolerant policies regarding those toward whom one feels tolerant or intolerant. The complex relationship between epistemology, tolerant or intolerant attitudes, and tolerant or intolerant policies is evident in the thought of prominent early-modern Protestant theologians who, under the pressure of rampant and violent religious disagreement, theorized tolerance. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:56~ BOOK REVIEWS of the problem of free will and God's omnipotence- not a problem peculiar to evolution, to be sure, but one that nonetheless arises within the context of the emergence of living things, especially man, on earth and how that process relates to divine intervention; and Francisco J. Ayola starts everything off with a biologist's hardline defense of evolutionary theory. It may be asking too much (...) to expect original thinking on a topic that has been subjected to so much investigation and controversy over the past century. But it is reasonable to expect, in a book such as Evolution and Crea.tion, ways of approaching the topic which spark the reader's interest and furnish him with a competent and sometimes brilliant overview to it. The book fulfills this.expectation. I think it would be particularly useful as a source book and catalyst in graduate level seminars. University of San Francisco San Francisco, California RAYMOND DENNEHY God and Nature: Historical Essays on the Encounter Between Chris·tianity and Science. Edited by DAVID C. LINDBERG and RONALD L. NUMBERS. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1986. Pp. xi + 516. $50.00 (cloth), $17.95 (paper). The editors tell us at the outset of this important volume that it is the outcome of two convictions that they share: (1) "that the interaction of science and Christianity has been of profound imp@tance in the shaping of Western civilization" and (2) that the results of extensive specialist work by historians of science and religion in recent decades belie widelyheld stereotypes and ought to be made generally available. The most familiar of the stereotypes is of course the Draper-White 66 warfare" thesis, the origins and continuing influence of which the editors trace in the first part of their helpful introduction. The eighteen contributors to the volume find plenty of controversies-sometimes rising to the level of conflicts-among individuals, among theological schools of thought, among scientific schools of thought, and among social groups, but at no period do they find anything that could be called an overall conflict of science and theology. They find many instances of smallerand larger-scale influences of theological developments on scientific ones, of scientific developments on theological ones, and of social developments on both. But no grand overall interpretative scheme appears in this respect either. Stanley L. Jaki's thesis, for instance, that modern science BOOK REVIEWS 563 was born of Christian theology and has prospered just insofar as it has remained faithful to its parentage, fares no better than the warfare thesis. No sweeping unitary interpretation can be expected to emerge, Lindberg and Numbers sugg.est, from historical work that " shows the respect for the particularity, individuality and value of each people and age that the canons of historical scholarship demand" (p. 10; i:r).ternal quotation from Donald Kagan). Accordingly, each essay is devoted to a particular period-some longer than others, to be sure. Nearly all are by professional historians. One author is primarily a philosopher, and several have at least secondary philosophical interests ; none are primarily scientists or theologians. Nearly all were trained and teach at secular universities, though a few have formal training from religious institutions as well. The coverage by periods is comprehensive, from Lindberg on " Science and the Early Church" to Numbers on "The Creationists" and Keith Yandell (the philosopher) on "Protestant Theology and Natural Science in the Twentieth Century." The last title calls attention, however, to one oddity in the coverage. Whereas in the essays on the sixteenth through eighteenth centuries both Protestant and Catholic figures and movements are treated, in those on the nineteenth and twentieth centuries attention is focused almost exclusively on the Protestant scene. Clearly, eighteen substantial essays cannot be analyzed in detail in a review of reasonable length. I shall indicate the main topics and theses of each with a few comments where these can be made briefly. First, however, I should stress that the book is treasure-trove of information and ideas. All the essays are good; several are superb. Each should be highly instructive for readers who are not specialists in the topic and period it deals with... (shrink)

Conciliationism is the view that says when an agent who believes P becomes aware of an epistemic peer who believes not-P, that she encounters a defeater for her belief that P. Strong versions of conciliationism pose a sceptical threat to many, if not most, religious beliefs since religion is rife with peer disagreement. Elsewhere I argue that one way for a religious believer to avoid sceptical challenges posed by strong conciliationism is by appealing to the evidential import (...) of religious experience. Not only can religious experience be used to establish a relevant evidential asymmetry between disagreeing parties, but reliable reports of such experiences also start to put pressure on the religious sceptic to conciliate toward her religious opponent. Recently, however, Asha Lancaster-Thomas poses a highly innovative challenge to the evidential import of religious experience. Namely, she argues that an evil God is just as likely to explain negative religious experiences as a good God is able to explain positive religious experiences. In light of this, religious believers need to explain why a good God exists instead of an evil God. I respond to Lancaster-Thomas by suggesting that, at least within the context of religious experience, that the evil God hypothesis is only a challenge to certain versions of theism; and that the existence of an evil God and good God are compossible. (shrink)

In his engaging volume on fairytales, George MacDonald wrote that the purpose of a fairytale is “not to give the reader things to think about, but to wake up things that are in him." By contrast, many works of art, including contemporary musical compositions, are accompanied by statements of “things to think about,” such as didactic program notes by the composer on pet social justice issues. This essay explores what can be done in a piece of music (...) to “wake up things” already in the listener. These include invoking something familiar in the musical style, using essential building blocks of beauty in constructing the music, and providing a teleology of purpose and narrative flow in the music, in contrast to modernist trends that eschew these things. The essay explores also how and why these “awakening things” can and should be accomplished. (shrink)

1. Believing Enough to Think The Scottish system of university education requires most aspirants to an Ordinary Degree to study some philosophy. Philosophers in Scottish Universities must therefore contend with enormous first-year classes, stocked with youngsters who have little real desire to be philosophers, or even to philosophize. Some years ago, at Glasgow, a question in the final exam was as follows: ‘“Philosophy is of no use, and so should not be studied.” Discuss’. A couple of hundred students answered, more (...) or less fluently, that one should not assume that what was of no use should not be studied, since some things were worth studying in their own right, but that in any case the study of philosophy was useful since it helped one to question what authoritative figures said. No essayist, apparently, saw any paradox in this reply, which was, of course, taken word for word from the professor's lectures. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:The Right Thing to DoJane RogersIn stark contrast to getting my graduate degree in bioethics in which I discovered that I am inclined to favor an ethics based on my religious beliefs, in nursing school I learned that I had to take my religion out of nursing care. As a bioethics student, I read in my textbook, Bioethics: A Systematic Approach, that “… just because an action is (...) rationally allowed does not mean that everyone agrees one ought to act in that way.” Yet often in nursing I found that we nurses knew what was best for our patients, even if they did not. At least, we believed that we did. This general paternalistic belief spread into every area of the care we gave except for one, and that was religion. [End Page 208]As student nurses, we learned to separate our religion from our care to focus on the patient’s religion or spiritual needs. Our patients should never know of our religious beliefs or even if we had a lack of them. We needed to be completely neutral on all religious issues and focus solely on the patient’s preference. If our patients needed spiritual care, we would find someone to provide it and we would incorporate it into the nursing plan of care. Providing care of the whole patient including their religious needs was the definition of a good nurse. Certainly I wanted to be a good nurse, so I swore I would always include the spiritual needs of my patients as part of my care, while never expressing my own.As fate would have it, as a new nurse I found myself overwhelmed running around just trying to give medications, admit and discharge patients, start IV’s, insert catheters, note doctor’s orders and get my charting done. My time was engaged in trying to calm confused and combative patients, running to grab an emesis basin for a patient to throw up in or answering the phone, so thinking about religion or spiritual care for my patients most of the time amounted to “God help me and my patients get through this shift.” My goal of being a good nurse was starting to look dismal as I realized I had no idea if I could find the time or means and ways to incorporate religion into the care I gave, or if it even mattered if I did.Fortuitously for me, most of my patients never mentioned religion, although at times they did leave some nonverbal clues. I could see a rosary laying on a bedside table or a bible or prayer book next to them in bed. While I would make sure their religious item was always within reach, I remained respectful yet distant in religious matters, never offering any spiritual care or assistance. I was quite accepting of my first Mormon patient wearing the garment under the traditional hospital gown. I was appalled when an unconscious Jehovah Witness patient was nearly given blood. When a minister or priest came to visit, I’d excuse myself quickly so that the work of their God could do what I could not or should not do. Occasionally I was asked by family members to call in a minister or a priest or chaplain and I did that with a great feeling of satisfaction as I was surely providing the spiritual care they requested.Eventually however I did start to indulge in highly spontaneous and random acts of religion. These were always done secretly. The patient or family must never know. Thinking it would help I once covertly gave a patient a special rosary I had with Lourdes water in it thinking it might heal him. I waited to see a miracle. It never came. Despite the absence of that miracle I was still hopeful that perhaps my prayers or another rosary could heal or at least help some of my patients. After all, as a nurse I witnessed lots of healings that astounded me. People I never thought would get better sometimes did anyway.Although I was cognizant that some healing was the direct result of superb medical intervention and excellent nursing care, there were always... (shrink)

Cognitive archaeologists infer from material remains to the cognitive features of past societies. We characterize cognitive archaeology in terms of trace-based reasoning, which in the case of cognitive archaeology involves inferences drawing upon background theory linking objects from the archaeological record to cognitive features. We analyse such practices, examining work on cognitive evolution, language, and musicality. We argue that the central epistemic challenge for cognitive archaeology is often not a paucity of material remains, but insufficient constraint from cognitive theories. However, (...) we also argue that the success of cognitive archaeology does not necessarily require well-developed cognitive theories: Success might instead lead to them. (shrink)

The phenomenon of religious experience is of interest to modern researchers in the field of phenomenology and analytical philosophy abroad, but remains unpopular in Ukraine. The interview talks about why philosophy does not stop trying to explore such experiences, and raises the question of the relevance of religion in the age of secularization. Jason Alvis clarifies some points of his project «phenomenology of inconspicuousness» and shares an unpopular view on the work of Martin Heidegger in general and on (...) his concept «eine phenomenologie des Unscheinbaren» in particular. The researcher draws attention to the difference in the reading and interpretation of Heidegger's philosophy in the USA and Europe. J. Alvis responds with his own concept to the challenge of the «spectacle era», which seeks to perceive God as another performance with special effects in the form of a miracle. But the most important thing is that the phenomenologist finally suggests moving away from obsessive dialectics, because God cannot be explained using the categories of «visible» or «invisible». So inconspicuousness does not mean that God cannot be seen. Just the opposite - it can and should be seen in completely everyday moments. Such a vision gives an active role to the subject of religious experience. The philosopher explains why the thesis that religion is irrelevant and unimportant today does not stand up to criticism and points out that in fact there is rather a turn towards religion. The good thesis «We make religion» reflects not only the modern view and possibilities of science in researching this issue. This is a call to fill religion with a new meaning, to finally notice in it a personality whose role could previously be leveled by tradition. In this conversation, you can find the destruction of clich s related to religiosity as such. The text also contains references to modern trends not only in the study of religious experience, but also in the social reinterpretation of the content of this experience through the prism of faith. (shrink)

Politics and religion certainly ride together throughout the Dune saga. Rationales were given to support twentieth century dictator ships, whose citizens were encouraged to see their leaders as infallible. In this way, politics in a totalitarian state resembled a religion, with a community of faithful followers and its own special theology to justify the dictator's authority. This chapter, draws parallels between the religious dimensions of politics in Frank Herbert's Dune novels and some philosophers’ views on tyranny and justice here (...) on Earth. Even in democratic countries, leaders still tend to think of themselves as in service to some higher, impersonal standard, like a set of principles, a tradition, a flag, or a constitution. Plato's readers have sometimes described the relation between the higher plane of reality of universals and the world of everyday experience in terms of the relation between heaven and earth in the Abrahamic religions. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Practicing the Religious Self: Buddhist-Christian Identity as Social ArtifactDuane R. BidwellIt is somewhat paradoxical to write or speak about identity formation in two religious traditions that ultimately deny the reality of any identity that we might claim or fashion for ourselves. In the Christian traditions, a person’s true (or ultimate) identity is received through God’s action and grace in baptism; to foreground any other facet of the (...) self, or to anchor identity in anything but baptism, could be considered a form of idolatry. In the Buddhist traditions human identity is empty, woven not from an inherent or externally granted essence but through the interdependent arising of all things; 1 to cling to self and to identity as independent, enduring, immutable, or autonomous signals a mistaken understanding of reality.2 Indeed, as religious scholar Alice Keefe has written, “belief in the self as independent and self-existent is our fundamental delusion and root poison.” 3Yet day by day most of us experience our identities, including our religious, cultural, and social identities, as neither empty nor erased. On the contrary: they seem to be inscribed with enduring meaning. Knowledge has been chiseled into them through our participation in the rituals and relationships of the world. At times the very fullness of our identities can feel on the verge of overflowing. This sense of dynamic presence and fullness causes our identities to serve as important (and perhaps essential) tools for negotiating the hurly-burly of experience and relationship in the mundane, finite, material world.4 From this perspective, our religious identities are social artifacts, entities and meanings formed in between, or on the margins of, biological selves that are related to one another through communities of practice.5 These communal artifacts may then be interiorized by individuals as resources that can be employed in or offered back to the world—performed, if you will—through particular (and sometimes disciplined) practices.6The primacy of social process in creating and maintaining religious identity implies that community remains central to the process of fashioning the religious self in contemporary Buddhist and Christian practice. If this is true, it raises, of course, important questions about our understandings of ecclesiology and the nature of the sangha, theological anthropology and Buddhist understandings of the person. These questions [End Page 3] deserve to be answered, but they are too broad to be addressed here. My more modest intention is to contribute to generative conversation about religious identity formation by illustrating how my own religious identities as Buddhist and Christian have been practiced and performed as social artifacts in two particular instances. In a secondary sense, this essay serves as a reflection on pastoral work in a multifaith context, something “much needed in the Buddhist-Christian studies milieu.” 7Given the diverse academic approaches to Buddhist-Christian studies, it seems wise to begin by describing my own background and approach. By training I am a pastoral theologian, someone who seeks to understand critically the richness and complexity of human experiences and then to respond with appropriate, faithful, and effective acts of care. The psychological meta-theory of social constructionism serves as a primary conversation partner for my work; it invites me to ask “not what goes on ‘inside’ people, but what people go on inside of.” 8 For pragmatic reasons I tend to utilize David Tracy’s mutual critical (or revised) correlational method,9 and in the dialectic between understanding human experience and responding to it, I privilege liberationist theologies and religio-ethical norms of justice, love, and wisdom. My practice as a spiritual director and pastoral counselor seeks to promote practices of freedom for all people.10As a minister in the Presbyterian Church (USA) I am accountable to the Reformed tradition of Christian theology. My formal theological education occurred in the ecumenical context of a divinity school affiliated with the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) and at a diocesan seminary affiliated with the contemplative Anglican tradition. My informal training in Buddhist philosophy and practice occurred in the Theravada traditions of Southeast Asia, primarily through five years of participation in an immigrant congregation and weekly study with Thich Phap Nhan, a Vietnamese monk... (shrink)

This is a continuation of the problem being solved in the last two chapters, and this chapter is focused on the religious grounds to decision-making. One of the main arguments against using religious grounds is their “nonaccessibility” to others. It means that persons who hold religious convictions do so substantially on the basis of experience that is not fully accessible to others. This does not mean that reason plays no part in the development of religious convictions. (...) Possible religious understandings may be measured against various tests of reasonableness. But something more is involved: a choice or judgment based on personal experience that goes beyond what reason can establish. The chapter is also able to find accessible grounds in favor of religion: the philosophic argument for God, the existence of possible evidence in history in favor of one's faith, and the fruits of conviction that may lead to positive things even for nonbelievers. (shrink)

The investigative strategy that Vaesen uses presumes that cognitive skills are to some extent hardwired; developmentally plastic traits would not provide the relevant comparative information. But recent views of cognition that stress external resources, and evolutionary accounts such as cultural niche construction, urge us to think carefully about the role of technology in shaping cognition.

Does God exist? Why did life on earth come about? Have the theories of evolution and the Big Bang proven that the entire universe occurred spontaneously? If there is a God who created this world, then why did he allow human suffering and evil to exist? These are the questions tackled in a lucid style in this book. Just because no one has seen a thing does not mean that it has no existence or cannot occur. Honest scientists of real (...) insight teach that there is a very great deal more even to physical existence and the material universe than that which we mortals can perceive with our limited senses. They admit that there may exist a realm which is not accessible to human awareness or bound by the limitations of the human intellect; it is utterly beyond human perception and remains Hidden or Unseen. The known material universe with which we are familiar is like only the tip of an iceberg, the bulk of which remains hidden from our eyes. (shrink)

ABSTRACT This article brings Cormac McCarthy's novels into discussion with Dewey's thinking, particularly with an eye to the distinction, made famous from A Common Faith, between religion and “the religious.” In this work Dewey argues for emancipating what is genuinely religious from all that is adventitious to it—above all, anything wedded to ideas of the supernatural—so that “the religious aspect of experience will be free to develop freely on its own account.” He concludes by highlighting the need (...) to make explicit and militant “the common faith of mankind”—which lies in the recognition that “the things in civilization we most prize are not of ourselves” but “exist by grace of the doings and sufferings of the continuous human community in which we are a link.” While McCarthy's novels share Dewey's broadly anti-supernatural and anti-ecclesiastical commitments, there are some areas of divergence between the two that allow us to reflect critically on the distinction between religion and “the religious.” Most significantly, whereas Dewey aims to discern the intrinsic quality of the religious apart from what is adventitious to it, McCarthy focuses on the historical givenness of religious practices so as then to imagine their repurposing and radical transformation. (shrink)

Unparalled in its poetry, richness, and religious and historical significance, the Hebrew Bible has been the site and center of countless commentaries, perhaps none as unique as Thinking Biblically. This remarkable collaboration sets the words of a distinguished biblical scholar, André LaCocque, and those of a leading philosopher, Paul Ricoeur, in dialogue around six crucial passages from the Old Testament: the story of Adam and Eve; the commandment "thou shalt not kill"; the valley of dry bones passage from Ezekiel; (...) Psalm 22; the Song of Songs; and the naming of God in Exodus 3:14. Commenting on these texts, LaCocque and Ricoeur provide a wealth of new insights into the meaning of the different genres of the Old Testament as these made their way into and were transformed by the New Testament. LaCocque's commentaries employ a historical-critical method that takes into account archaeological, philological, and historical research. LaCocque includes in his essays historical information about the dynamic tradition of reading scripture, opening his exegesis to developments and enrichments subsequent to the production of the original literary text. Ricoeur also takes into account the relation between the texts and the historical communities that read and interpreted them, but he broadens his scope to include philosophical speculation. His commentaries highlight the metaphorical structure of the passages and how they have served as catalysts for philosophical thinking from the Greeks to the modern age. This extraordinary literary and historical venture reads the Bible through two different but complementary lenses, revealing the familiar texts as vibrant, philosophically consequential, and unceasingly absorbing. (shrink)

Unparalled in its poetry, richness, and religious and historical significance, the Hebrew Bible has been the site and center of countless commentaries, perhaps none as unique as Thinking Biblically. This remarkable collaboration sets the words of a distinguished biblical scholar, André LaCocque, and those of a leading philosopher, Paul Ricoeur, in dialogue around six crucial passages from the Old Testament: the story of Adam and Eve; the commandment "thou shalt not kill"; the valley of dry bones passage from Ezekiel; (...) Psalm 22; the Song of Songs; and the naming of God in Exodus 3:14. Commenting on these texts, LaCocque and Ricoeur provide a wealth of new insights into the meaning of the different genres of the Old Testament as these made their way into and were transformed by the New Testament. LaCocque's commentaries employ a historical-critical method that takes into account archaeological, philological, and historical research. LaCocque includes in his essays historical information about the dynamic tradition of reading scripture, opening his exegesis to developments and enrichments subsequent to the production of the original literary text. Ricoeur also takes into account the relation between the texts and the historical communities that read and interpreted them, but he broadens his scope to include philosophical speculation. His commentaries highlight the metaphorical structure of the passages and how they have served as catalysts for philosophical thinking from the Greeks to the modern age. This extraordinary literary and historical venture reads the Bible through two different but complementary lenses, revealing the familiar texts as vibrant, philosophically consequential, and unceasingly absorbing. (shrink)

This paper is an attempt to elaborate two concerns: those of maternal ethics, and notions of making things public. I attempt to bring these two concerns together and think them alongside one another, in hopefully productive ways. I want, in other words, to think about the ethics of what mothers ‘make public’, whether this is understood in its most rudimentary form, of enabling a child to express something, to make public an affective state, for instance, even if it is (...) only the mother who is there to witness or receive it, through to more overt and material forms of ‘publication’ glimpsed when mothers parent in spaces we call ‘public’. This paper focuses on what happens to us all when we encounter ‘mothering’ – not in the enclosed, private, secluded spaces where we imagine mothering to take place, but in what Marc Augé has termed the ‘non-places of supermodernity’, where much of the day-to-day material practices of mothering in Western late-modern urban contexts actually occurs. As is often the case, it is when experience is dislodged from the contexts in which we expect to find it that its contours are shown up in relief, and we are called on to re-configure our understandings of experiences in ways that also shift our understandings of the contexts in which they occur. In this sense, mothering, that I am claiming ‘makes things public’, as well as occurring frequently and importantly ‘in public’, not only shows up something we may overlook about the maternal, but also deforms and reforms our understandings of ‘the public’ itself. (shrink)