Can God Ground Necessary Moral Truths?

Robert from Canada wrote to Reasonable Faith:
Dear Dr. Craig,

There have been a lot questions recently asked about grounding the existence of morality in God, and I have one as well. The Christian philosopher Richard Swinburne rejects the Moral Argument for God because, he thinks, moral truths are necessarily true, and so the existence of God cannot have an effect on their truth.

He comes to the conclusion that moral truths are necessary because certain events are thought to be morally good or bad; more than that, the moral goodness or badness of an event is inseparable from the state of affairs itself. So, Swinburne claims, there is no possible world in which the exact same things occur as occurred during the holocaust, and in which the holocaust is not morally abominable. It is the same with other events that are considered morally good or bad. There is no possible world in which the event is the same as in the actual world and in which the moral judgement of the event is different than in the actual world. Thus Swinburne concludes that the moral judgement of an event is necessary to the event itself. And this leads naturally to his conclusion that the existence or non-existence of God is irrelevant to the existence of the moral judgement since the moral judgement is necessary given the event.

Swinburne's argument would thus undercut one of the premises to your moral argument. I am a Christian philosophy student at a secular university where many of my professors take a view similar to Swinburne, holding that the objectivity of moral values does not depend on God's existence. I have read and heard your arguments about the absurdity of life without God, and I am currently undecided. What would be your response to Swinburne's argument?

Robert

My Response to William Lane Craig’s Critique of My Divine Love Theory

On October 17, 2022, William Lane Craig discussed an article of mine in which I explained my Divine Love Theory. My article was published in the Worldview Bulletin Newsletter here: Divine Love Theory: How the Trinity Is the Source and Foundation of Morality.

You can listen to Craig’s podcast about my Divine Love Theory here: Divine Love Theory and the Trinity | Podcast | Reasonable Faith.

First, I’ll provide key quotes from Craig’s podcast. Craig said he has reservations about my Divine Love Theory because “it proposes that the love between the members of the Trinity is the source and foundation of morality, and I think that is a distorted and lopsided view because, as important as divine love is, it also equally belongs to God’s moral perfection to be just and to be holy.”

Defusing the Euthyphro Dilemma

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Editor’s note: Adam Johnson has graciously allowed us to republish this article. Find the original publication here.


How a Concretist Position on Properties Salvages Divine Simplicity

Why salvage divine simplicity? Consider the Euthyphro Dilemma, often presented as a rebuttal to the moral argument for God’s existence. In Plato’s Euthyphro, Socrates asked “Is that which is holy loved by the gods because it is holy, or is it holy because it is loved by the gods?”1 The dilemma can be restated in monotheistic terms as follows: Either 1. Morality is based on God’s commands; thus, He could have arbitrarily commanded any heinous act and it would be morally right, or 2. Morality is based on necessary truths that even God cannot change; thus morality is independent of God and out of His control.2

In order to avoid both horns of the dilemma, theists have proposed that morality is dependent upon God’s nature in such a way that He could not command something that violates His moral nature.3 Robert M. Adams’s version of the Divine Command Theory is an important contemporary example of grounding morality in God’s nature. He explained that “[t]he part played by God in my account of the nature of the good is similar to that of the Form of the Beautiful or the Good in Plato’s Symposium and Republic. God is the supreme Good, and the goodness of other things consists in a sort of resemblance to God.”4 His view is Platonic in the sense that “[t]he role that belongs to the Form of the Good in Plato’s thought is assigned to God, and the goodness of other things is understood in terms of their standing in some relation, usually conceived as a sort of resemblance, to God.”5 This is not a new idea; in the first chapter of Monologion, Anselm argued that there must be one thing through which all good things are good, and that it alone is supremely good.6 Aquinas wrote that “Nothing… will be called good except in so far as it has a certain likeness of the divine goodness.”7

If morality is dependent upon God’s nature in this way, then both horns of the Euthyphro Dilemma are avoided. First, His commands would not be arbitrary because they would have to be consistent with His moral nature. Second, morality would not be independent of God, but dependent upon Him, that is, upon His moral nature. However, this proposed solution agrees with the Euthyphro Dilemma that morality is based on necessary truths that God cannot change or control, that is, truths concerning His moral nature. Baggett and Walls noted that “a careful distinction between questions of dependence and control allows an answer to the Euthyphro Dilemma that can serve as an important component of any thoroughly theistic metaphysic with a strong commitment to moral realism… Moral truths can be objective, unalterable, and necessary, and yet still dependent on God.”8 They concluded that “if such dependence or even identity obtains or is even possible, then the Euthyphro Dilemma is effectively defused and the moral argument for God’s existence accordingly gains strength.”9

However, this proposal concerning God’s moral nature raises a whole host of knotty questions. If we claim that something is morally good if it images God in a morally pertinent sense, then in effect we are discussing God’s nature, that is, His properties—and in particular, His property of moral goodness. But what is God’s nature? Is it ontologically prior to God Himself? Would such a notion violate God’s aseity? Is God dependent upon His nature? If not, then what is God’s relationship to His nature? If God is not able to choose His nature, does this violate His sovereignty? Some have criticized this solution to the Euthyphro Dilemma because it raises these additional difficulties. Atheist Erik Wielenberg argued that Christians inconsistently critique his model of ethics for positing unexplained necessary connections while they themselves also posit unexplained necessary connections, that is, between God’s moral nature, His commands, and His other attributes.10 Thus it behooves us as Christians to provide a fuller explanation of how God’s moral nature provides the foundation of objective morality, to fill in the details of our model as much as possible.

How is divine simplicity pertinent to this conversation? Interestingly, while critiquing the idea that an appeal to God’s nature solves the Euthyphro dilemma, Wielenberg wrote that “any theist who rejects the doctrine of divine simplicity seems committed to the existence of necessary connections between some of God’s attributes. Unless such theists can adequately explain all such connections, they, too, cannot consistently wield P1.”11 P1 is Wielenberg’s summary of the critique often leveled at his model by theists—“P1: Any approach to metaethics that posits logically necessary connections without adequately explaining why such connections hold is unacceptable.”12 Later he surmised that “…on a sufficiently strong doctrine of divine simplicity… there isn’t a necessary link between the divine nature and God issuing [a command] that needs explaining so perhaps a theist of this sort can consistently wield P1. [I]f sense can be made of it [divine simplicity] and if it is plausible it does seem to allow the theist to avoid having to explain lots of necessary connections between distinct divine attributes and actions.”13

In a similar critique of the notion that God’s moral nature solves the Euthyphro Dilemma, Jeremy Koons argued that the proposed solution just pushes the dilemma back one level beyond God’s commands to His nature: Is God’s moral nature good because He has it or does He have it because it is good?14 The resulting dilemma is as follows: Either 1. If God’s moral nature is good because He has it, then no matter what type of nature He had, even a heinous one, it would be considered good, or 2. If God’s moral nature is based on necessary truths that even God cannot change (He just has the nature He has), then His moral nature is independent of God and out of His control. Interestingly, without developing the idea fully, Koons merely mentioned that “[a]n alternate solution to the Euthyphro problem… requires embracing some potentially contentious notions, such as that of divine simplicity…”15

Here then are two critics of the standard answer to the Euthyphro Dilemma, that morality is grounded in God’s moral nature, who suggest that divine simplicity might be a possible solution to their critique. However, Koons is correct in noting that this notion is contentious; in fact, many theologians today have rejected divine simplicity. Thus, in this paper, in order to defuse the Euthyphro Dilemma and strengthen the moral argument for God’s existence, I will argue that taking a concretist position on properties allows us to salvage the key concepts of divine simplicity which are pertinent to this Euthyphro conversation. I will begin by first explaining what it means to take the position that properties are concrete objects.

And Now for Something Completely Different: Properties as Abstract Objects

In Does God Have a Nature? Alvin Plantinga tackled the issue of God’s relationship to His properties and argued that God has a nature which is not identical with Him.16 In this book he connected God’s nature with abstract objects as follows:

…if the number 7 or the proposition all men are mortal exist necessarily, then God has essentially the property of affirming their existence. That property, therefore, will be part of his nature. Indeed, for any necessarily existing abstract object O, the property of affirming the existence of O is part of God’s nature… God hasn’t created the numbers; a thing is created only if its existence had a beginning, and no number ever began to exist… [they] are necessary beings and have been created neither by God nor by anyone else. And of course the same goes for other necessarily existing abstract objects.17

He continued by noting that “[f]rom this point of view, then, exploring the realm of abstract objects can be seen as exploring the nature of God.”18 He concluded his book as follows:

(70)     Necessarily 7 + 5 = 12
(71)     It is part of God’s nature to believe that 7 + 5 = 12.
…is there a sensible sense of ‘explain’ such that in that sense (71) is the explanation of (70)… Or could we say, perhaps, that what makes (70) true is the fact that (71) is true? …Could we say, perhaps, that (70) is grounded in (71)? If so, what are the relevant senses of ‘explains,’ ‘makes true’ and ‘grounded in?’ These are good questions, and good topics for further study. If we can answer them affirmatively, then perhaps we can point to an important dependence of abstract objects upon God, even though necessary truths about these objects are not within his control.19

To summarize then, Plantinga described abstract objects as beings that exist necessarily, are uncreated, had no beginning, and the truths of which are not within God’s control, though they might be dependent upon Him in some way. This is a common theistic view of abstract objects; one additional characteristic many assign to them is that they are non-causal, that is, they cannot enter into the causal chain of events. But should properties be thought of as abstract objects?

Plantinga himself recognized the problems with such a position. He wrote that “if he [God] has aseity, he depends upon nothing for his existence and character; and if he is sovereign, everything depends upon him. Abstract objects seem to compromise both…”20 While discussing God’s properties as abstract objects, he noted that God “seems to be somehow conditioned and limited by these properties, and dependent upon them.”21 According to Plantinga, these concerns make up the best argument for nominalism. He explained that:

…we have been speaking only of his [God’s] own properties; but of course there is the rest of the Platonic menagerie—the propositions, properties, numbers, sets, possible worlds and all the rest. If these things are distinct from God, if they exist necessarily and have their characters essentially, then there is a vast and enormous structure that seems to be independent of God… That this swarm of Platonic paraphernalia infringes on the sovereignty of God is the best argument I know for nominalism.22

What would such a nominalism look like? According to Plantinga, the nominalist claims we should get rid of the “Platonic horde of propositions, states of affairs, numbers, sets and the like—in a word, abstract objects… So perhaps the truth is there are only concrete objects—God, other persons, and physical objects such as stars, trees and protons. ‘Concretism’ would be a more accurate if less euphonious name for this position than the usual ‘nominalism’: the claim that everything is a concrete object.”23

It should be noted that Plantinga rejects concretism because he argues that it does not solve, in his opinion, the key problem with abstract objects—that they seem to violate God’s sovereignty. He argued that even concretism results in many truths that are not in God’s control.24 However, William Lane Craig, a prominent critic of abstract objects, argued that the key problem with abstract objects is not that they violate God’s sovereignty, but that they violate His aseity. The term aseity comes from a Latin word meaning ‘of itself’; as Richards explained, it means that God “exists from and of himself and does not depend on anything outside himself for his nature or existence. Everything else, in contrast, depends upon God for its existence.”25

Christians have traditionally believed that God is a self-existent being that does not exist through, or in dependence upon, anything else; He is the sole ultimate reality. Craig argued that if there are abstract objects which are, like God, uncreated and eternal, then God is not the sole ultimate reality. Craig maintains therefore that the idea of abstract objects is a serious challenge to orthodox theology because it makes God out to be just one of a vast number of eternal and uncreated beings. He wrote that “[i]nsofar as these abstract objects are taken to be uncreated, necessary, and eternal, contemporary Platonism also comes into conflict with the traditional doctrines of divine aseity and creation.”26

The issue of God and abstract objects is critically important when it comes to the moral argument for God’s existence. For example, atheist Erik Wielenberg claims that moral truths exist as brute facts, thus concluding that morality can be real and objective even if there is no God. His description of these brute facts makes them sound very similar to abstract objects:

…my version of non-theistic robust normative realism has an ontological commitment shared by many theists: it implies the obtaining of substantive, metaphysically necessary, brute facts… Such facts are the foundation of (the rest of) objective morality and rest on no foundation themselves. To ask of such facts, “where do they come from?” or “on what foundation do they rest?” is misguided in much the way that, according to many theists, it is misguided to ask of God, “where does He come from?” or “on what foundation does He rest?” The answer is the same in both cases: they come from nowhere, and nothing external to themselves grounds their existence; rather, they are fundamental features of the universe that ground other truths.27

If Christian theologians are not careful, their promotion of abstract objects may do more harm than good. For instance, they might unknowingly be promoting a position that grounds morality in properties which are abstract objects, while positing God just as a being that exemplifies the moral properties in question. The consequence of such a position, as seen in Wielenberg’s work, is that it eventually views God as an unnecessary hypothesis.

How to Be a Nominalist Without Being a Nominalist

One concern that might be raised against concretism is that it entails a rejection of universals. Unfortunately, the term “nominalist” has been used to describe someone who rejects abstract objects, and it has also been used to describe someone who rejects universals. While it is possible for someone to adopt both forms of nominalism, this is not necessarily the case. For instance, Gonzalo Rodriguez-Pereyra explained, using the Aristotelian realist as an example, that a person can deny abstract objects and still affirm universals.28 To avoid this confusion, Craig prefers to call his position against abstract objects ‘anti-realist’ instead of nominalist.29

How could one affirm universals while believing that only concrete objects exist? The category of concrete objects is not limited to just physical objects, nor is it limited to just particulars. First, a concretist views non-physical objects such as angels, thoughts, and God as concrete objects. Second, while describing concretism (though he uses a different term for it), Paul Gould wrote that such a position “is not to be understood necessarily as the rejection of properties, relations, propositions, possible worlds, and so on, rather, what is required of those who believe in such entities is that they think of them as concrete objects.”30

For an example of a position that rejects abstract objects but affirms universals, Craig described a person who identifies universals as thoughts in someone’s mind yet considers those thoughts to be concrete objects.31 That is the position that I am advocating for in this paper, with the added proviso that the mind in question is God’s—thus I affirm a concretist interpretation of Divine Conceptualism. Robert Adams notes that divine conceptualism achieves two of our deeply held intuitions—that truth exists beyond our human minds and that truth seems to be something that can only exist in minds.32 It should be noted that Craig himself rejects divine conceptualism, though he sees it as the “most promising concretist view” and admits it is his “fallback position.”33 As an anti-realist, he rejects that abstract objects are real as well as the concretist interpretation of divine conceptualism (which he classifies as another form of realism).34

Should God’s thoughts be considered as abstract or concrete objects? Greg Welty, a proponent of divine conceptualism, laments that “the abstract/concrete distinction is in disarray, ontologically speaking.”35 However, he continued by noting that “…if divine ideas are ‘concrete objects,’ then my position is that abstract objects functionally speaking are concrete objects ontologically speaking.”36 In other words, God’s thoughts (as concrete objects) can play the functional role people often assign to abstract objects. Welty described this interpretation of divine conceptualism as follows:

It would be a version of nominalism [towards abstract objects that is] insofar as the divine concepts are (presumably) concrete entities, perhaps mental events (images, dispositions, or intentions). An advocate of this interpretation of TCR [Theistic Conceptual Realism] could hold the traditional nominalist view that the only things which exist are concrete substances. But insofar as the thoughts of one concrete substance in particular (God) satisfy the functional concept of universals, this is a nominalism that concedes, interestingly enough, that universals really exist. And so this interpretation of TCR would still be a realism about universals, insofar as the divine concepts exist independently of any human cognitive activity, and would exist even if there were no human thinkers at all. Indeed, they would exist even if there were no concrete substances in existence (besides God, of course).37  

As a reminder, the motivation for taking the position that God’s thoughts are concrete objects, rather than abstract objects is twofold: to protect God’s aseity, as discussed above, and to salvage divine simplicity, as discussed below.38   

What Divine Concepts Cannot Do

While I have shown how properties can be considered as concrete objects in the mind of God, this cannot be the case for all properties. The exceptions I have in mind are God’s essential properties. I affirm that all other properties, besides God’s essential properties, are ideas in the mind of God.39 But why could God’s essential properties not also be properties that merely exist in God’s mind? The problem with such a position is that it runs into the bootstrapping objection. The bootstrapping objection is most well known as a problem for Absolute Creationism.

Absolute Creationism is yet another position on God and abstract objects which maintains that God created all concrete objects and all abstract objects (including all properties).40 Many have rejected Absolute Creationism because it ends up being viciously circular. The circularity comes into play when one recognizes that some properties must exist prior to God’s creation of them, for instance, God’s property of being able to create properties. As Craig and J. P. Moreland explained, “God cannot coherently be said to create his own properties, since in order to create them, he must already possess them.”41 Gould noted that “[m]any (including myself) think this [bootstrapping] problem fatal for the absolute creationism of Morris and Menzel.”42

Though the bootstrapping objection is most well known as a problem for Absolute Creationism, it also presents a problem for the divine conceptualist who claims that all properties are ideas in God’s mind. Divine Conceptualism runs into the bootstrapping circularity as well because some properties must exist prior to God conceiving of them, for example, God’s property of being able to conceive of properties.43 Jay Richards explained the problem for Divine Conceptualism as follows:

…the bootstrapping problem rears its ugly head again… this would entail, for example, that God is all-powerful just because, from eternity, God has reflected on the fact that he is all-powerful. But clearly for this to be possible, God would have had to have the Property P01 of being able to think his omnipotence into existence. But perhaps, one might retort, God also thought that property into existence from eternity. Well, then he would have had to have another property P02, and off, once again, goes an infinite regress.44

The bootstrapping objection does not have to be the death knell for concretism however. A concretist can view some properties as ideas in God’s minds and other properties as essential properties of God Himself. The important notion for the concretist is that all properties are concrete, not that they are all ideas in God’s mind. Though they note that such a distinction among properties might appear ad hoc, Craig and Moreland describe a similar position as follows: “Perhaps… [someone] might maintain that all the properties that God exemplifies as part of his nature—for example, being lovingbeing powerful and so on—do not exist… as do other properties. Rather, as a brute fact, God, along with his nature, simply exists a se. Other properties, such as being red, are sustained by God, either by his intellect, will or in some other way.”45

Before we turn to the topic of simplicity, it is worth noting something that was only briefly mentioned above; a concretist also understands God to be a concrete object. For example, Richards describes God as “the one necessarily existing, personal, concrete being and causal agent.”46 Within Adams’ metaethical model, he is explicit that “[i]f God is the Good itself, then the Good is not an abstract object but a concrete (though not a physical) individual. Indeed it is a person, or importantly like a person.”47  

Salvaging Divine Simplicity

Simplicity was the standard position among Christian theologians from at least as early as Augustine up through the early modern era. Simplicity, as understood by these theologians, should not be thought of as a property of God, but rather as the way God is related to His properties. That is why Thomas Aquinas began his discussion of God’s attributes by first explaining divine simplicity.48 Today however, the doctrine of simplicity has fallen on hard times; many contemporary theologians have flat out rejected it. For instance, Plantinga wrote that “…the simplicity doctrine seems an utter mistake.”49 Even Adams, whose entire metaethical model is built around the idea that God is the Good itself, wrote that “…the extreme doctrine of divine simplicity… which grounded much medieval thought about the otherness of God, offers much too formal a conception of that otherness… and I think it can be given up without insult to the divine transcendence.”50

Why has divine simplicity been thrown on the trash heap? I will argue below that the most common reasons given for the rejection of divine simplicity stem from the mistake of viewing properties as abstract objects instead of concrete objects. If one takes a concretist view of properties, then one can affirm the essential elements of divine simplicity while avoiding the absurdities that result from trying to affirm both ‘simplicity’ and ‘properties as abstract objects’. In order to do this I will use Richards’ list of eight senses of divine simplicity that appear in Christian theology.51

  1. All divine properties are possessed by the same self-identical God.

  2. God is not composite, in the sense that he is made up of elements or properties more fundamental than he is. He has no external cause(s), such as Platonic Forms.

  3. God’s essence is “identical with” his act of existing.

  4. All God’s essential properties are coexstensive.

  5. All God’s perfections are identical.

  6. All God’s properties are coexstensive.

  7. God’s essential properties and essence are (strictly) identical with God himself.

  8. All of God’s properties are (strictly) identical with God himself.

Senses (1) and (4) are relatively uncontroversial aspects of simplicity that nearly all theologians affirm, even if they reject other senses of simplicity. Sense (1) merely affirms that the divine attributes refer to one and the same being, an uncontroversial statement about God’s unity. As for sense (4), William Mann explained that all that is being affirmed here is that “…it would be impossible for any being to instantiate the attribute being omniscient, say, without also instantiating the attribute being omnipotent, and vice versa.”52

Richards and I both reject (6) and (8), but doing so has little to no implications for applying simplicity to the Euthyphro Dilemma. The issue here has to do with the distinction between God’s essential properties and His contingent properties; someone who affirms (6) and (8) makes no such distinction, which I believe is a mistake. As Richards explained, Aquinas held that God did not have any contingent properties (sometimes referred to as accidental properties) because he viewed them as potentialities and did not want to assign any potentiality to God.53 However, claiming that God has no contingent properties violates God’s divine freedom because it entails that everything God does, He must do necessarily.54

I will discuss Richards’ (2) by itself because it seems to be the key motivation behind divine simplicity and, as I see it, the heart of the doctrine. The rest of the senses discussed below, though more difficult to understand and explain, are only possible implications from this proposition. As a reminder, sense (2) is that ‘God is not composite, in the sense that he is made up of elements or properties more fundamental than he is. He has no external cause(s), such as Platonic Forms.’ This sense of simplicity asserts that God is not dependent on anything outside Himself. A concretist can easily affirm this assertation while someone who views properties as abstract objects struggles to do so. Those who have a strong ontological view of abstract objects tend to think of properties as metaphysical parts, causing the artificial worry that God is a composite being dependent upon such parts.  

As opposed to a position like Plantinga’s, which views properties as abstract objects, a concretist can more clearly, and with less qualifications, say, along with Jay Richards, that “[t]here is no abstract essence that in any way precedes God’s concrete actuality.”55 This allows the concretist to maintain, again, along with Richards, that “God’s essence and properties are not parts of God, however, but fundamental facts about him.”56 In other words, the concretist has less difficulty saying that God ontologically ‘comes first’ before His properties. The advantage to the concretist here is well articulated by Richards when he wrote that “…by defining these things minimally as facts or truths… I think I have circumvented most of the problems that a more strongly Platonic view of abstract entities poses for God’s sovereignty and aseity.”57

Some theologians who reject simplicity acknowledge that the motivations behind it, such as this sense (2), were commendable. For example, Baggett and Walls wrote that “…while we retain the prerogative to refrain from affirming divine simplicity, we think it important to capture the insight inspiring it and to affirm God’s perfection and supreme ontological status.”58 Ronald Nash also rejected simplicity but noted that it “…resulted from attempts to avoid two extreme movements that were considered threats to Christian theology during the Middle Ages: extreme realism (or hyperrealism) and nominalism.”59 He explained extreme realism as the “tendency to take properties like wisdom and goodness and hypostatize them into existing entities. With respect to the properties of God, the problem was obvious. If the properties or attributes of God are hypostatized existents, then God is a composite being… This effectively made God’s nature a construct of more basic building blocks, namely, the hypostatized attributes.”60 This is an artificial problem, a problem resulting from the mistake of viewing properties as abstract objects.

Alternatively, Nash explained that nominalism had the advantage of “eliminating in one fell swoop all of the problems raised by the extreme realists. It is no longer possible to think of God as composed of parts (viz., the attributes) since the ‘parts’ do not exist.”61 That is, they do not exist in the ontologically heavyweight sense that extreme realists maintain. Unfortunately Nash himself affirmed “the existence of a whole host of abstract objects that… exist eternally and necessarily, including properties, relations, propositions, states of affairs, and numbers.”62 He dismissed nominalism because it rejected universals, but, as I explained above, a concretist can be a nominalist concerning abstract objects while still affirming the existence of universals.  

Addressing the Most Difficult Senses of Divine Simplicity

Richards’ (3), (5), and (7) all have to do with the ‘identity absurdities’ that supposedly result from divine simplicity.63 I will address them one at a time and contend that such absurdities mostly result when one views properties as abstract objects instead of concrete objects. First let us consider ‘(3) God’s essence is “identical with” his act of existing.’ By definition, for all finite contingent beings, existence is a contingent property; it is possible that they might not have existed at all. Thus all contingent beings, such as human beings, apples, the planet Saturn, etc., are a composite of essence (their essential properties) and existence. However, God, as a necessary being, necessarily exists and therefore for Him, existence is an essential property. Richards notes, colloquially though instructively, that “[w]e cannot get the daylight between God’s essence and existence as we can with finite creatures.”64 God is not composed of existence and essence but is simple in the sense that existence is an essential property for Him. Adams wrote that “…the most plausible form of the doctrine of divine necessity is the Thomistic view that God’s existence follows necessarily from his essence but… we do not understand God’s essence well enough to see how his existence follows from it.”65

Now let us consider ‘(5) All God’s perfections are identical.’ Plantinga explained this implication of simplicity is the first of two reasons he rejects this doctrine; he wrote that “…if God is identical with each of his properties, then each of his properties is identical with each of his properties, so that God has but one property. This seems flatly incompatible with the obvious fact that God has several properties.”66 One who views properties as abstract objects may claim that those who hold to divine simplicity can only speak as though God has one property, not several. Yet, as Plantinga says, we clearly think of God, and describe Him, as having several properties. Divine simplicity by itself does not result in the absurd notion that we can only speak of God as having one property. This absurdity only arises if one tries to combine ‘divine simplicity’ with the position that ‘properties are abstract objects.’ However, Richards explained that this criticism “against speaking of divine properties in the plural may stem from insufficient care in avoiding the connotation that properties are physical parts.”67 In other words, viewing properties as abstract objects gives them the connotation of being metaphysical parts, and trying to combine this with divine simplicity causes the absurdity Plantinga pointed out.

On the other hand, a concretist who holds to Divine Conceptualism maintains that we can consider God’s properties separately because God eternally ‘abstracts’ them by reflecting on the concrete actuality of His own being. Richards’ explanation of this worth quoting in full:

God’s being precedes the discrete universal properties, though universals eternally exist and are relevantly distinct, in the sense that God eternally abstracts them by reflecting on his own being. When we say that Socrates is wise, the claim is meaningful and true because of this prior act of God abstracting the concept of Wisdom by reflecting on the concrete actuality of his own being, one aspect of which is perfect wisdom. God’s eternal thought also allows us to speak much more easily about God, using the language of properties and essences. It is God’s intellectual activity that makes our intellectual and linguistic activity possible, not only in everyday contexts but also in theology.68

In addition, while defending divine simplicity, Brian Leftow responded to Plantinga’s critique here as follows: “Omniscience is or supervenes on that state which is God’s knowing what He does. Omnipotence is or supervenes on that state which is God’s having the abilities He has. The terms “omniscience” and “omnipotence” of course carry distinct senses, but what reason is there to find it odd that God satisfies them in virtue of the same inner state?”69

Now let us consider ‘(7) God’s essential properties and essence are (strictly) identical with God himself.’ Plantinga explained this supposed implication of simplicity is the second of two reasons he rejects this doctrine:

…if God is identical with each of his properties, then, since each of his properties is a property, he is a property… This view is subject to a difficulty both obvious and overwhelming. No property could have created the world; no property could be omniscient, or, indeed, know anything at all. If God is a property, then he isn’t a person but a mere abstract object; he has no knowledge, awareness, power, love or life.70  

Notice Plantinga’s assumption lurking in the background, the assumption that properties are abstract objects. It is this assumption which leads him to the conclusion that the doctrine of divine simplicity results in the absurd view that God is “a mere abstract object.” Because a concretist rejects the notion that God’s properties are abstract objects, she can thus embrace simplicity while avoiding this absurdity.

Craig and Moreland explain that those who view properties as abstract objects run into the difficult “…problem of the causal or explanatory priority of God relative to abstract objects… Some contemporary Christian philosophers have appealed to divine simplicity as a solution, for if God is identical to his properties, they are not explanatorily prior to him. But the classical doctrine of divine simplicity never envisioned making God identical with his properties as the Platonist construes them, for that would be to turn God into an abstract object.”71 However, if one does not, with the Platonist, construe properties are abstract objects, then one is not forced into the absurd conclusion that God is an abstract object.

While defending Robert Adams’ notion that God is The Good against the charge that this results in the implausible notion that God is identical to some abstract object, Baggett and Walls note that there is a “recurring debate among Plato scholars as to whether the Forms are best understood as archetypes, properties, or universals on the one hand, or standards, paradigms, or exemplars on the other.” They point out that Adams’ approach, thinking of God functioning as the exemplar of Goodness makes “better sense of God constituting Goodness, in the sense of being its exemplar, perfect standard, ultimate paradigm, and final source.” By viewing Plato’s Forms this way, as concrete instead of abstract, “…a person like God might function more paradigmatically as the ultimate Good than would some abstract principle or impersonal truth.” The result is that “[t]he tension between person and universal, or substance and property, is thus avoided.”72 In fact, Leftow, in his defense of divine simplicity, makes the case that, even though God is a person, He may play the functional role people often assign to abstract objects.73

Conclusion

God is a weighty topic, to say the least. As finite creatures, there is a limit to how much we can understand, and explain, God and His properties. However, the more implausible or incoherent a position is, the more strikes against it, all else equal. In that regard, broadly speaking, this paper is an attempt at the coherence of theism, that is, an attempt to show how theism is metaphysically intelligible and does not entail any logical contradictions. In particular though, in the context of trying to defuse the Euthyphro Dilemma, I argued that taking a concretist position on properties allows us to salvage the key aspects of divine simplicity. Certainly this is not the last word concerning simplicity; for instance, one large controversial issue that I left outstanding was how simplicity can be reconciled with the Trinity. However, I believe, along with Richards, that “we are now in the neighborhood of preserving the essential core of the doctrine of divine simplicity,” at least the core that is pertinent to the Euthyphro Dilemma.

Footnotes

[1] Plato, Euthyphro, 9e.

[2] For a brief summary see C. Stephen Evans, God and Moral Obligation (Oxford, United Kingdom: Oxford University Press, 2014), 89–91. For a fuller treatment see John Milliken, “Euthyphro, the Good, and the Right,” Philosophia Christi 11.1 (2009): 145–55.

[3] William Lane Craig, “The Most Gruesome of Guests,” in Is Goodness without God Good Enough?: A Debate on Faith, Secularism, and Ethics (eds. Nathan L. King and Robert K. Garcia; Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, 2009), 171–73.

[4] Robert Merrihew Adams, Finite and Infinite Goods: A Framework for Ethics (New York: Oxford University Press, 1999; repr., 2002), 7.

[5] Ibid., 14.

[6] Anselm, “Monologion,” in Anselm of Canterbury: The Major Works (eds. Brian Davies and G. R. Evans; Oxford World’s Classics, New York: Oxford University Press), 5–82.

[7] Thomas Aquinas, Summa Contra Gentiles, Book I, Chapter 40.

[8] David Baggett and Jerry Walls, Good God: The Theistic Foundations of Morality (New York: Oxford University Press, 2011), 91.

[9] Baggett and Walls, Good God: The Theistic Foundations of Morality, 93.

[10] Erik J. Wielenberg, “An Inconsistency in Craig’s Defence of the Moral Argument,” European Journal for Philosophy of Religion 4/4 (2012): 65–74.

[11] Erik Wielenberg, “Reply to Craig, Murphy, McNabb, and Johnson” (presented at the American Academy of Religion Annual Meeting, Boston, Mass., November 20, 2017), 14. Forthcoming in Philosophia Christi.

[12] Ibid., 11.

[13] Erik J. Wielenberg, personal correspondence.

[14] Jeremy Koons, “Can God’s Goodness Save the Divine Command Theory from Euthyphro?,” European Journal for Philosophy of Religion 4.1 (2012): 177–95.

[15] Ibid., 194.

[16] Alvin Plantinga, Does God Have a Nature? (Milwaukee: Marquette University Press, 1980), 10.

[17] Ibid., 142-143.

[18] Ibid., 144.

[19] Ibid., 145–46.

[20] Ibid., 68.

[21] Ibid., 6.

[22] Ibid., 35–36.

[23] Ibid., 65.

[24] Ibid., 89.

[25] Jay Wesley Richards, The Untamed God (Downers Grove, Ill.: InterVarsity Press, 2003), 15.

[26] William Lane Craig, God Over All: Divine Aseity and the Challenge of Platonism (New York: Oxford University Press, 2016), 3.

[27] Wielenberg, Robust Ethics, 38.

[28] Gonzalo Rodriguez-Pereyra, “Nominalism in Metaphysics,” ed. Edward N. Zalta, Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, 2011, http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/nominalism-metaphysics.

[29] Craig, God Over All, 8.

[30] Paul M. Gould, “Introduction to the Problem of God and Abstract Objects,” in Beyond the Control of God? Six Views on the Problem of God and Abstract Objects, ed. Paul M. Gould (New York: Bloomsbury Academic, 2014), 12.

[31] Craig, God Over All, 8.

[32] Robert Merrihew Adams, The Virtue of Faith and Other Essays in Philosophical Theology, (New York: Oxford University Press, 1987), 218.

[33] Craig, God Over All, 51, 206.

[34] Ibid., 72.

[35] Greg Welty, “Theistic Conceptual Realism,” in Beyond the Control of God? Six Views on the Problem of God and Abstract Objects, ed. Paul M. Gould (New York: Bloomsbury Academic, 2014), 94.

[36] Ibid., 95.

[37] Greg Welty, “Truth As Divine Ideas,” Southwestern Journal of Theology 47.1 (2004): 59–60.

[38] For a dialogue about whether or not Thomas Aquinas should be considered a concretist in this regard, see J. Thomas Bridges, “A Moderate-Realist Perspective on God and Abstract Objects,” Philosophia Christi 17.2 (2015): 283. See also William Lane Craig’s response 292-293 and Bridges response back to Craig 309-310, 312.

[39] Of course there are incidental properties that humans conceive/create such as hipness, or the property of scoring a touchdown. However, these should not be considered universals.

[40] See Thomas V. Morris and Christopher Menzel, “Absolute Creation,” American Philosophical Quarterly 23 (1986): 353–62. Christopher Menzel, “Theism, Platonism, and the Metaphysics of Mathematics,” Faith and Philosophy 4 (1987): 365–82. For a fuller treatment, see Brian Leftow, God and Necessity (New York: Oxford University Press, 2012).

[41] William Lane Craig and J. P. Moreland, Philosophical Foundations for a Christian Worldview (Downers Grove, Ill.: IVP Academic, 2003), 505.

[42] Gould, “Introduction to the Problem of God and Abstract Objects,” 10.

[43] Craig and J. P. Moreland, Philosophical Foundations for a Christian Worldview, 506.

[44] Richards, The Untamed God, 245. In a footnote Richards thanks Greg Welty for helping him see this point clearly.

[45] Craig and J. P. Moreland, Philosophical Foundations for a Christian Worldview, 505.

[46] Richards, The Untamed God, 95.

[47] Adams, Finite and Infinite Goods, 42.

[48] Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologica, Question 3.

[49] Plantinga, Does God Have a Nature?, 47.

[50] Adams, Finite and Infinite Goods, 52.

[51] Richards, The Untamed God, 217.

[52] William E. Mann, “Simplicity and Immutability in God,” in The Concept of God, ed. Thomas V. Morris (New York: Oxford University Press, 1987), 256.

[53] Richards, The Untamed God, 234–35.

[54] Craig and J. P. Moreland, Philosophical Foundations for a Christian Worldview, 525.

[55] Richards, The Untamed God, 95.

[56] Ibid., 18.

[57] Ibid., 246.

[58] David Baggett and Jerry L. Walls, God and Cosmos: Moral Truth and Human Meaning (Oxford University Press, 2016), 56.

[59] Ronald H. Nash, The Concept of God: An Exploration of Contemporary Difficulties with the Attributes of God (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Zondervan, 1983), 86–87.

[60] Ibid., 87–88.

[61] Ibid., 88.

[62] Ibid., 96.

[63] For an interesting argument that these identity absurdities are actually erroneous implications resulting from of a misreading of simplicity, “carried into the present by contemporary defenders of simplicity who mistakenly take the traditional identity claims of, say, Thomas to mean strict identity” that is, a Leibnizian view of identity which the medieval theologians did not use, see Richards, The Untamed God, 217, 224, 227, 232, 248.

[64] Ibid., 222.

[65] Adams, The Virtue of Faith and Other Essays in Philosophical Theology, 209.

[66] Plantinga, Does God Have a Nature?, 47. The two reasons Plantinga gives here for rejecting simplicity represent well the most common reasons people give for rejecting this doctrine. For a fuller treatment on objections to divine simplicity, see James E. Dolezal, God Without Parts: Divine Simplicity and the Metaphysics of God’s Absoluteness (Eugene, Or.: Pickwick Publications, 2011), 11-29.

[67] Richards, The Untamed God, 241.

[68] Ibid., 247.

[69] Brian Leftow, “Is God an Abstract Object?,” Nous 24 (1990): 598.

[70] Plantinga, Does God Have a Nature?, 47. 

[71] Craig and J. P. Moreland, Philosophical Foundations for a Christian Worldview, 505.

[72] Baggett and Walls, Good God: The Theistic Foundations of Morality, 94.

[73] Leftow, “Is God an Abstract Object?,” 581–98.

Bibliography

Adams, Robert Merrihew. Finite and Infinite Goods: A Framework for Ethics. New York: Oxford University Press, 1999; repr., 2002.

———. The Virtue of Faith and Other Essays in Philosophical Theology. New York: Oxford University Press, 1987.

Anselm. Anselm of Canterbury: The Major Works. Edited by Brian Davies and G. R. Evans. Oxford World’s Classics. New York: Oxford University Press.

Aquinas, Thomas. Summa Contra Gentiles.

———. Summa Theologica.

Baggett, David, and Jerry Walls. Good God: The Theistic Foundations of Morality. New York: Oxford University Press, 2011.

Baggett, David, and Jerry L. Walls. God and Cosmos: Moral Truth and Human Meaning. Oxford University Press, 2016.

Bridges, J. Thomas. “A Moderate-Realist Perspective on God and Abstract Objects.” Philosophia Christi 17.2 (2015): 277–85.

Craig, William Lane. God Over All: Divine Aseity and the Challenge of Platonism. New York: Oxford University Press, 2016.

———. Is Goodness without God Good Enough?: A Debate on Faith, Secularism, and Ethics. Edited by Nathan L. King and Robert K. Garcia. Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, 2009.

Craig, William Lane, and J. P. Moreland. Philosophical Foundations for a Christian Worldview. Downers Grove, Ill.: IVP Academic, 2003.

Dolezal, James E. God Without Parts: Divine Simplicity and the Metaphysics of God’s Absoluteness. Eugene, Or.: Pickwick Publications, 2011.

Evans, C. Stephen. God and Moral Obligation. Oxford, United Kingdom: Oxford University Press, 2014.

Gould, Paul M. “Introduction to the Problem of God and Abstract Objects.” Beyond the Control of God? Six Views on the Problem of God and Abstract Objects. Edited by Paul M. Gould. New York: Bloomsbury Academic, 2014.

Koons, Jeremy. “Can God’s Goodness Save the Divine Command Theory from Euthyphro?” European Journal for Philosophy of Religion 4.1 (2012): 177–95.

Leftow, Brian. God and Necessity. New York: Oxford University Press, 2012.

———. “Is God an Abstract Object?” Nous 24 (1990): 581–98.

Mann, William E. “Simplicity and Immutability in God.” The Concept of God. Edited by Thomas V. Morris. New York: Oxford University Press, 1987.

Menzel, Christopher. “Theism, Platonism, and the Metaphysics of Mathematics.” Faith and Philosophy 4 (1987): 365–82.

Milliken, John. “Euthyphro, the Good, and the Right.” Philosophia Christi 11.1 (2009): 145–55.

Morris, Thomas V., and Christopher Menzel. “Absolute Creation.” American Philosophical Quarterly 23 (1986): 353–62.

Nash, Ronald H. The Concept of God: An Exploration of Contemporary Difficulties with the Attributes of God. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Zondervan, 1983.

Plantinga, Alvin. Does God Have a Nature? Milwaukee: Marquette University Press, 1980.

Plato. Euthyphro.

Richards, Jay Wesley. The Untamed God. Downers Grove, Ill.: InterVarsity Press, 2003.

Rodriguez-Pereyra, Gonzalo. “Nominalism in Metaphysics.” Edited by Edward N. Zalta. Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, 2011. http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/nominalism-metaphysics.

Welty, Greg. “Theistic Conceptual Realism.” Beyond the Control of God? Six Views on the Problem of God and Abstract Objects. Edited by Paul M. Gould. New York: Bloomsbury Academic, 2014.

———. “Truth As Divine Ideas.” Southwestern Journal of Theology 47.1 (2004): 56–68.

Wielenberg, Erik. “Reply to Craig, Murphy, McNabb, and Johnson” presented at the American Academy of Religion Annual Meeting, Boston, Mass., November 20, 2017.

———. “An Inconsistency in Craig’s Defence of the Moral Argument.” European Journal for Philosophy of Religion 4/4 (2012): 65–74.

———. Robust Ethics: The Metaphysics and Epistemology of Godless Normative Realism. New York: Oxford University Press, 2014.

Necessary Joy: The Relationship between Anselm’s Ontological Argument and “Fullness of Joy” (Part 2)

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Part Two: What Does Anselm Teach Regarding the “Fullness of Joy?”

Anselm’s teaching regarding the “fullness of joy” in his Proslogion is preceded by a discussion of God as the ultimate good. In transitioning to this discussion of God’s goodness, which, as Finley elucidates, “refers to what He is in Himself: to His own, possessed, internal ‘greatness,’” Anselm confesses to God that “You are nothing save the one and supreme good, You who are completely sufficient unto Yourself, needing nothing, but rather He whom all things need in order that they may have being and well-being.”[1] Anselm’s words at this point are significant insofar as they emphasize that the necessary and self-sufficient God is the source of not just a person’s being (i.e., existence), but his or her well-being; thus, human wholeness (i.e., well-being) necessarily comes from God.

Anselm goes on to discuss how the three Persons of the Trinity are indivisibly one and the same in terms of this ultimate goodness, leading him to challenge his own soul to “rouse and lift up your whole understanding and think as much as you can on what kind and how great this good is.”[2] Anselm asks, “For if life that is created is good, how good is the Life that creates? If the salvation that has been brought about is joyful, how joyful is the Salvation that brings about salvation?”[3]

Why does Anselm ask these questions? He is demonstrating that the S-t-w-n-g-c-b-t is not only the greatest and necessary being, but that the S-t-w-n-g-c-b-t is also the source of all goodness and true/full human life. To enjoy the things that come from God, such as life and salvation, raises the heart and mind to consider how great the source of these things must be. Anselm is, in a sense, inviting his readers to move with him from celebrating the gifts to celebrating the Giver; to recognize that the gifts are given not for their own sake but to draw the recipient to the Giver, who is Himself the ultimate gift. As Anselm explains, “Why, then, do you wander about so much, O insignificant man, seeking the goods of your soul and body? Love the one good in which all good things are, and that is sufficient. Desire the simple good which contains every good, and that is enough.”[4]

Later, following a litany of desires that one might have that are realized only in and through God (e.g., beauty, freedom, health and longevity, satisfaction, melody, pleasure, wisdom), Anselm describes how even friendship is ultimately found in God: “If it is friendship [they seek], they will love God more than themselves and one another as themselves, and God will love them more than they love themselves because it is through Him that they love Him and themselves and one another, and He loves Himself and them through Himself.”[5] Although complex, Anselm’s language here is richly describes the rewards of knowing God as the beginning and end of all of life.

Anselm concludes with this paradoxical thought, thereby introducing the discussion of joy that concludes the Proslogion:

[I]f they love God with their whole heart, their whole mind, their whole soul, while yet their whole heart, their whole mind, their whole soul, is not equal to the grandeur of this love, they will assuredly so rejoice with their whole heart, their whole mind, and their whole soul, that their whole heart, their whole mind, their whole soul will not be equal to the fullness of their joy.[6]

Anselm follows this thought with his consideration of whether or not the joy found in experiencing God as the ultimate source of all that humans desire is the same “fullness of joy” Jesus speaks of in John 16:24, “Ask and you will receive, that your joy may be full,” and in Matthew 25:21, where Jesus rewards His servants with the directive to “enter into the joy of [the] Lord.”)[7] What is Anselm’s conclusion?

Anselm offers what may be described as a “now and not yet” answer: as for the “now” aspect, there is a sense in which great joy comes to those who give themselves wholly to know and love S-t-w-n-g-c-b-t; but there is also a “not yet” as to the depth of joy that is only known when it is experienced perfectly in heaven. Anselm describes the “now and not yet” tension, “For I have discovered a joy that is complete and more than complete. Indeed, when the heart is filled with that joy, the mind is filled with it, the soul is filled with it, the whole man is filled with it, yet joy beyond measure will remain. The whole of that joy, then, will not enter into those who rejoice, but those who rejoice will enter wholly into that joy.”[8] The last sentence of this quote captures the essence of the “now and not yet.” Yes, present joy is truly amazing; however, the fullness of that joy will not enter into the believer now, but the believer will enter into it in the eschaton. Anselm sees the believer’s joy in this life as a foretaste of the greater joy to come.

To summarize: 1) Anselm argues that the triune God is the greatest good, and that only in seeking Him will His creatures find their ultimate fulfillment and well-being; 2) Anselm discusses the depth of God’s goodness, leading to the question of whether or not seeking and experience God as the greatest good is the “fullness of joy” Jesus promises; 3) Anselm answers ‘Yes,’ and ‘No.’ ‘Yes,’ concludes Anselm, God is the “fullness of joy” that the believer experiences as a result of living life in relationship with Him. ‘No,’ the believer will not experience the “fullness of joy” Jesus promises until the culmination of all things in the coming eschaton. The next consideration is how the “fullness of joy” relates to the ontological argument.


[1] Finley, PHH 605 Lecture Notes for Week 11,” and Anselm, Proslogion, 99.

[2] Anselm, Proslogion, 100.

[3] Anselm, Proslogion, 100-101.

[4] Anselm, Proslogion, 101.

[5] Anselm, Proslogion, 101.

[6] Anselm, Proslogion, 102-103. Paradox is used here not in the sense of contradiction, but in the sense of an apparent contradiction that is, upon closer examination, mysterious but not contradictory.

[7] Unless otherwise noted, all Scripture quotations are taken from The Holy Bible: New King James Version (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 1982).

[8] Anselm, Proslogion, 103.


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T. J. Gentry is the Executive Editor of MoralApologetics.com, the Senior Minister at First Christian Church of West Frankfort, IL, and the Co-founder of Good Reasons Apologetics. T. J. has been in Christian ministry since 1984, having served as an itinerant evangelist, youth minister, church planter, pastoral counselor, and Army chaplain. He is the author of numerous books and peer-reviewed articles, including Pulpit Apologist: The Vital Link between Preaching and Apologetics (Wipf and Stock, 2020), You Shall Be My Witnesses: Reflections on Sharing the Gospel (Illative House, 2018), and two forthcoming works published by Moral Apologetics Press: Leaving Calvinism, Finding Grace, and A Moral Way: Aquinas and the Good God. T. J. is a Clinical Pastoral Education Supervisor, holding board-certification as a Pastoral Counselor and a Chaplain. He is a graduate of Southern Illinois University (BA in Political Science), Luther Rice College and Seminary (MA in Apologetics), Holy Apostles College and Seminary (MA in Philosophy), Liberty University (MAR in Church Ministries, MDiv in Chaplaincy, ThM in Theology), Carolina University (DMin in Pastoral Counseling, PhD in Leadership, PhD in Biblical Studies), and the United States Army Chaplain School (Basic and Advanced Courses). He is currently completing his PhD in Theology at North-West University, Potchefstroom, South Africa (2021), his PhD in Theology and Apologetics at Liberty University (2022), and his PhD in Philosophy of Religion at Southern Evangelical Seminary (2024). T. J. married Amy in 1995, and they are blessed with three daughters and two sons. T. J.’s writing and other projects may be viewed at TJGentry.com.

Necessary Joy: The Relationship between Anselm’s Ontological Argument and “Fullness of Joy” (Part 1)

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Part One: What is Anselm’s Ontological Argument?

Introduction

Anselm of Canterbury (1033-1109) was a Benedictine monastic and the Archbishop of Canterbury.[1] A prolific writer, Anselm’s works include theological treatises, prayers, meditations, and numerous letters; all written, as Van Engen explains, so “that learning should serve the ends of the religious life.”[2] Anselm’s approach to learning and writing may be summarized in the following statement from the first chapter of the Proslogion, “For I do not seek to understand so that I may believe; but I believe so that I may understand. For I believe this also, that ‘unless I believe, I shall not understand’ (Isa 7:9).”[3] In light of this commitment to the priority of faith in learning, Anselm presents his confession-like argument for the existence of God in a form discussed below that has come to be known as the ontological argument, providing thereby the starting point of his broader thought in the Proslogion, which moves from his consideration of God’s existence to his concluding thoughts on the “fullness of joy,” all presented in a manner that is “at once speculative and prayerful.”[4]

Our purpose in this three-part discussion will be to consider: 1) Anselm’s ontological argument for God’s existence; 2) Anselm’s discussion of the “fullness of joy;” and 3) the relationship between Anselm’s ontological argument and his discussion of the “fullness of joy.” I will argue that Anselm’s ontological argument provides the foundation for his discussion of the “fullness of joy,” and that the ontological argument and the discussion of the “fullness of joy” are two interrelated parts in forming the whole of an effective argument for God’s existence.

What is Anselm’s Ontological Argument?

Two questions are helpful in considering Anselm’s ontological argument. 1) What is the context in which Anselm presents his discussion of God’s existence? 2) What is the basic argument Anselm presents for God’s existence?

Regarding the context of Anselm’s discussion of God’s existence, consider two things. First, the broader concern of the Proslogion is, as Finley explains, “‘pumping up’ the spiritedness of the believer to work his understanding so as to see . . . what he already sees through the eyes of belief.”[5] This is clear from the trajectory of the Proslogion, a movement across twenty-six chapters beginning with an attempt at “rousing of the mind to the contemplation of God” in chapter one, and concluding in chapter twenty-six with a consideration of how such contemplation is related to “the ‘fullness of joy’ which the Lord promises.”[6] This movement is intentionally directed toward helping believers grow in their devotion to God; therefore, it is reasonable to conclude that whatever argumentation Anselm presents in the Proslogion assumes, rather than seeks to prove, the existence and knowledge of God. Anselm’s Proslogion is primarily an intrafamilial discussion among believers.

Second, Anselm’s basic approach in the Proslogion is to argue without the direct aid of special revelation. He is not opposed to the use of Scripture and sacred tradition, but Anselm’s fundamental presupposition is that the believer must cultivate the ability to discern and articulate matters of divine truth through the rational use of an intellect made in the image of God; in this sense Anselm may be considered (to use a descriptor anachronistically) a philosophical theologian.[7] Sweeney aptly portrays Anselm’s philosophical theological bent, describing Anselm’s goal for faith as “that which proposes the problems for reason to solve.”[8] Thus, in the Proslogion in general and the ontological argument particularly, Anselm appears to be about the task of exercising Christian reason in the cause of faith.

Moving from the context of Anselm’s work, what is his basic argument for God’s existence? In what Matthews and Baker describe as an argument of “elegant simplicity,” Anselm presents his argument in the form of a prayer that is both doxological and apologetic.[9] Early in his prayer, Anselm confesses, “Now we believe that You are something than which nothing greater can be thought.”[10] This description of God as “something than which nothing greater can be thought” (hereafter S-t-w-n-g-c-b-t) in then explained by Anselm with the following line of argumentation, as summarized by Finley.

(1) [A]nyone can understand in his mind S-t-w-n-g-c-b-t; that is, such a thing can exist in anyone’s mind. (2) But for this thing to really be S-t-w-n-g-c-b-t, it must exist in reality, for what has real existence is greater than what has merely mental existence. (3) Thus, since we do know that [S-t-w-n-g-c-b-t] exists in our minds, and that to be itself it must exist in reality, we conclude that in reality, [S-t-w-n-g-c-b-t] exists.[11]

Two conclusions may be drawn from this argument. First, as Anselm explains, even the fool who wants to deny the existence of God in his heart (cf. Ps 14:1) cannot really do so, since to conceive of God in one’s heart for the sake of denying Him is still to conceive of Him, and if God (i.e., S-t-w-n-g-c-b-t) can be conceived of He must exist, since “existence . . . is simply part of [God’s] greatness.”[12] Second, the argument Anselm presents for God as S-t-w-n-g-c-b-t is logically valid and, as Groothuis argues, even the “most common objections to Anselm’s . . . argument run aground because the following three propositions are sound: (1) The idea of a Perfect Being is conceivable. (2) Existence can function as a predicate for God. (3) It is better for a Perfect Being to exist than not to exist.”[13]

In summary, in the early chapters of the Proslogion Anselm provides a prayer/discussion that engages faith and reason in the pursuit of knowing God as “something than which nothing greater can be thought.”[14] In part two of our discussion we will focus on Anselm’s concluding chapter in the Proslogion, regarding the “fullness of joy.”

 


[1] J. Van Engen, “Anselm of Canterbury,” in the Evangelical Dictionary of Theology, 2nd ed., Walter A. Elwell, ed. (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2001), 66-67.

[2] Van Engen, “Anselm of Canterbury,” 66.

[3] Anselm of Canterbury, Proslogion, in The Major Works, ed. by Brian Davies and G. R. Evans (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998), 87.

[4] Van Engen, “Anselm of Canterbury,” 67.

[5] John Finley, “PHH 605 Lecture Notes for Week 11: Anselm on God’s Existence and Attributes.”

[6] Anselm, Proslogion, 83-84,

[7] Van Engen, “Anselm of Canterbury,” 66.

[8] Eileen C. Sweeney, “Anselm's Proslogion: The Desire for the Word.” For a discussion of how a modified version of Anselm’s argument is helpful in arguing for God’s existence, see Gareth B. Matthews, and Lynne Rudder Baker, "The Ontological Argument Simplified," Analysis 70, no. 2 (April 2010): 210-212.

[9] Matthews and Baker, "The Ontological Argument Simplified," 210.

[10] Anselm, Proslogion, 87. Malcolm and Hartshorne both argue that Anselm gave two versions of the ontological argument; the first in chapter two of the Proslogion, and the second in chapter three. See Norman Malcolm, Knowledge of Certainty: Essay and Lectures (Englewood Cliffs: Prentice-Hall, 1963), 149-150; and Charles Hartshorne, Anselm’s Discovery: A Re-examination of the Ontological Argument for God’s Existence (Chicago: Open Court, 1965). However, as Groothuis discusses, it is reasonable to conclude that Anselm’s discussion in chapter two focuses on God’s greatness and in chapter three focuses on God’s necessity (a corollary of greatness); thus, the second argument in chapter three amplifies the first argument in chapter two without presenting a new/different argument. See Douglas Groothuis, Christian Apologetics: A Comprehensive Case for Biblical Faith (Downers Grove: InterVarsity, 2011), 194-195.

[11] Finley, “PHH 605 Lecture Notes for Week 11.”

[12] Anselm, Proslogion, 87, and Groothuis, Christian Apologetics, 193.

[13] Groothuis, Christian Apologetics, 194.

[14] Anselm, Proslogion, 87.


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T. J. Gentry is the Executive Editor of MoralApologetics.com, the Senior Minister at First Christian Church of West Frankfort, IL, and the Co-founder of Good Reasons Apologetics. T. J. has been in Christian ministry since 1984, having served as an itinerant evangelist, youth minister, church planter, pastoral counselor, and Army chaplain. He is the author of numerous books and peer-reviewed articles, including Pulpit Apologist: The Vital Link between Preaching and Apologetics (Wipf and Stock, 2020), You Shall Be My Witnesses: Reflections on Sharing the Gospel (Illative House, 2018), and two forthcoming works published by Moral Apologetics Press: Leaving Calvinism, Finding Grace, and A Moral Way: Aquinas and the Good God. T. J. is a Clinical Pastoral Education Supervisor, holding board-certification as a Pastoral Counselor and a Chaplain. He is a graduate of Southern Illinois University (BA in Political Science), Luther Rice College and Seminary (MA in Apologetics), Holy Apostles College and Seminary (MA in Philosophy), Liberty University (MAR in Church Ministries, MDiv in Chaplaincy, ThM in Theology), Carolina University (DMin in Pastoral Counseling, PhD in Leadership, PhD in Biblical Studies), and the United States Army Chaplain School (Basic and Advanced Courses). He is currently completing his PhD in Theology at North-West University, Potchefstroom, South Africa (2021), his PhD in Theology and Apologetics at Liberty University (2022), and his PhD in Philosophy of Religion at Southern Evangelical Seminary (2024). T. J. married Amy in 1995, and they are blessed with three daughters and two sons. T. J.’s writing and other projects may be viewed at TJGentry.com.

What Makes Something Morally Good or Bad? Erik Wielenberg’s Theory (Part 2)

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Editor’s note: Adam Johnson has graciously allowed us to republish his video series, “What Makes Something Morally Good or Bad?” Find the original post here.


Erik Wielenberg has proposed an atheistic theory of where morality comes from. He claims that God is not necessary in order to have objective morality by which humans are required to live. Wielenberg’s theory has three main components: First, it is not a materialistic theory, meaning that it does not assume that the physical world is all there is. Second, Wielenberg’s theory proposes the existence of “brute ethical facts” that exist outside of nature which ground moral values and obligations. Third, Wielenberg says that these facts become applicable to human beings by something he calls the “making relationship,” whereby facts about circumstances in the world cause moral facts to become applicable to certain situations (to be instantiated). This lecture explains the main concepts of Wielenberg’s theory and also examines some objections to his theory.


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Adam Lloyd Johnson serves as a university campus missionary with Ratio Christi. He also teaches classes for Midwestern Baptist Theological Seminary and spends one month each year living and teaching at Rhineland Theological Seminary in Wölmersen, Germany. Adam received his PhD in Theological Studies with an emphasis in Philosophy of Religion from Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary in 2020.

Making Sense of Morality: Problems with Naturalism 3

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Editor’s note: R. Scott Smith has graciously allowed us to republish his series, “Making Sense of Morality.” You can find the original post here.

Introduction

Previously, I explored issues with Armstrong’s naturalistic kind of properties and how we cannot have knowledge on them. Now I will look at nominalism, which seems to be the most likely naturalistic view of properties. As Wilfrid Sellars (d. 1989) remarked, “A naturalist ontology must be a nominalistic ontology” (109). Yet, I will argue that nominalism undermines knowledge, and it will do so for naturalism, too, including in ethics. Yet that undercuts our clear knowledge of our core morals.

Nominalism

Unlike realists, who affirm the reality of universals, nominalists think that everything is particular. Literally, there are no identical qualities shared between two or more things. Moreover, every particular thing is just one thing (i.e., it is simple). But, how nominalist theories treat particulars varies.

For instance, on trope nominalism, there are many particular red color tropes in a bag of red delicious apples. While they may be analyzed as being exactly similar (yet not literally identical), they are discrete red tropes; e.g., red1, red2, red3, etc. An apple is many different tropes (e.g., a color trope, a sweetness trope, a round trope, etc.) that are bundled together

For austere nominalism, there are only concrete, particular objects. They are concrete, for they are located in space and time. A red delicious apple is just one thing, a red-sweet-round-apple. Finally, metalinguistic nominalism agrees with austere nominalism that there are only concrete objects. But, it holds that the “claims apparently about universals are really disguised ways of talking about linguistic expressions” (Loux, 46).

Assessment

As we have seen, nominalism has had a lengthy, deep influence on the west, including in ethics. I traced it back to Ockham, but since Hobbes, and running through Hume, Kant, Bentham, Mill, and almost every naturalist, nominalism has dominated philosophical thought, including ethics, as well as modern science.

Yet, is it true? Consider again that on it, regardless of the specific version, something is just one thing. It is not composed of two or more things. In contrast, realists hold that when a universal property (e.g., red) is instanced in an object (an apple), that instance of red is a universal that has been particularized. The instance is the union of two things, which makes it complex.

Now, on nominalism, it seems we treat an object as a particular something. That thing might be a property like red, or a concrete object like an apple or a word. Yet, we treat each one as though it is something that is particularized. Yet, in reality, they cannot be complex. So, then it seems that either one of these things, the “particularizer” (the individuator), or the thing itself, can be eliminated without any real loss.

Suppose we eliminate the particularizer – e.g., the “1” in red1. Yet, if we do that, then we seem left with just red, the color itself, and it is not particularized. But that is what realists claim to be the case, that red is an abstract entity that is particularized when it enters into the being of some object, like an apple. So, eliminating the particularizer spells the end of nominalism.

Instead, suppose we eliminate the quality (or object). But, then we are left with just a particularizer (here, the “1”) which individuates nothing. That, however, makes no sense, for we always would ask, “one what?” In this case, the dire result is that there are no qualities or objects in reality. But, that means nominalism undermines reality.

Since nominalism maintains that every particular is just one thing, we can take either route without any difference in reality. In that case, we can take the latter option, and so we see that nominalism cannot preserve any qualities in reality whatsoever. There would not be any people, animals, plants, beliefs, and certainly not any morals. Nominalism undermines our core morals, as well as morality altogether. Moreover, it undermines naturalism as false.

For Further Reading

Keith Campbell, Abstract Particulars

Michael Loux, Metaphysics: A Contemporary Introduction, 3rd ed.

Wilfrid Sellars, Naturalism and Ontology

R. Scott Smith,“Tropes and Some Ontological Prerequisites for Knowledge,” Metaphysica 20:2 (2019)


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R. Scott Smith is a Christian philosopher and apologist, with special interests in ethics, knowledge, and seeing the body of Christ live in the fullness of the Spirit and truth.


Mailbag: Does Morality Need a Personal Explanation?

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Good morning Dr. Baggett, 

I hope all is well with you, but I wanted to ask you a question as it pertains to Moral ontology. Now bear with me Dr. Baggett I am a novice and am just throwing thoughts out there so i may sound silly at times. However, when it comes to moral ontology I know many people who aren't theist will argue morality exist in this platonic state. That moral truths exist necessarily and we can ground them in moral Platonism therefore there is no need for God as the grounding. 

My question is this: do you think the foundation of morality (its ontology) needs to be a personal source? The reason I ask this is because when I think about morality it seems to only make sense between personal agents. Take for example humans When I kick another human for no reason that is considered immoral, however when I Kick say a rock or a tree no one looks at that and says I’m being immoral. As a matter of fact we would say that the relationship between a rock and me is more Morally apathetic, to even speak of morality between us is absurd. 

So if that's the case and morality only seems to really make sense between Personal agents. Why should we believe that Moral Platonism (a non-sentient or personal object) can even ground morality? 

Thanks for the reply and sorry for the long question Dr Baggett. 

Joshua 

 

              Hi Joshua! For a self-professed novice you ask an excellent question, and I think your intuition is exactly right. How we might choose to couch it could be either (among other possibilities) to say that the personal source is the only explanation or the best explanation. It may well be both but it's a bit less ambitious to argue the latter. This is what I do. A personal source of morality makes better sense of the relevant moral data than an impersonal source. After all the truths of morality don't merely seem abstract, but intimately tied to personhood. Many of the great luminaries in the history of the moral argument have shared this conviction, which inspired them to look for a personal source. Platonism is perhaps, to my thinking, the second-best account out there, and it has more than a little going for it. For example, a committed secular Platonist would agree with the thorough-going theistic ethicist on moral realism, moral cognitivism, error theory, expressivism, constructivism, and even non-naturalism. It's just the final fork in the road where they part ways: Platonism or theism. And this is where the personal nature of theism has a definitive advantage, it seems to me. But as George Mavrodes puts it, the Platonic man rightly sees morality as deeply rooted in reality, which is absolutely right. This means there's lots of common ground shared by the theist and Platonist. And even though theism posits an additional entity, as it were, there are principled reasons for doing so because the personal explanation is the better, more robust explanation, so parsimony alone can't be used to give the nod to Platonism. Besides, if Swinburne is right, a theistic explanation can often prove simpler than secular ones. We can also choose, if we wish, to be something like theistic Platonists, as Robert Adams does, which may well be the way to go. This way the eternal verities are thoughts in God's mind, or something like that, rather than existing in metaphysical limbo, as John Rist puts it. So those are a few thoughts anyway! Thanks so much for the note, and I encourage you to keep thinking these matters through, Joshua. You might peruse MoralApologetics.com for additional resources, all free. By the way, I just got done directing a dissertation by Stephen Jordan arguing that a whole range of moral facts point to a personal source rather than an impersonal one. Hopefully in time we will see a version of it in print.

 

Blessings, Dave



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David Baggett is professor of philosophy and Director of the Center for Moral Apologetics at Houston Baptist University.

Socrates and Jesus on Allegiances

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You have probably heard the saying, “Great minds think alike.” I think there is more truth to the claim that we might imagine. The ancient philosopher Socrates had a conversation with Plato’s eldest brother Glaucon about transcendent truths known as Forms. Forms are metaphysical truths that exist independently of personal opinions and the physical world. His conversation with Glaucon is recorded in Plato’s book The Republic. Socrates explains Forms and the importance of pursuing them in his Allegory of the Cave (Republic 514a-517a).

The Allegory tells the story of a group of men held captive since their youth. They are held in a cave and tied down so that the only thing they can see is the shadows cast on the cave’s wall by their captors playing in front of a fire. This life is the only life these men know. All their knowledge of the world stems from the shadow puppets cast for their entertainment pleasure. But, Socrates inquires, what if one of the captives was released and allowed to see the world outside of the cave? The light from the sun would hurt his eyes. His mind would have trouble comprehending the beauty of the exterior world that is so new to him. The birds, the sky, the animals of the field, and the beauty of flowers and trees would overwhelm his imagination. Socrates further questions Glaucon by asking, what if the man wanted to free his brothers in the cave? What if he were to return to tell of the wondrous things that he had seen? Would his brothers not think him to be a madman and eventually kill him? Socrates holds that this is the response of individuals living only with a mindset on the Particulars (the physical attributes of the world) to those who observe the beauty of the Forms (the unseen realm).

Jesus told a parable somewhat comparable to Socrates’s called the Parable of the Wicked Husbandmen or the Parable of the Bad Tenants in Matthew 21:33-46; Mark 12:1-12; and Luke 20:9-19. The parable is about a group of tenant farmers who gave a portion of their harvest to the owner for payment for the use of the landowner’s property. The harvest was part of their rental agreement. Rather than paying the agreed harvest, the wicked tenant farmers beat and killed the servants sent by the landowner to acquire payment. Last of all, they killed the son thinking that they would steal his inheritance. Finally, the landowner came after the tenant farmers and destroyed those wicked men. While the two parables differ substantially, they hold three common truth claims.

The Reality of the Unseen Realm. Both Socrates and Jesus point to the reality of the unseen realm. The unseen realm of Forms is clearly in view in the Allegory of the Cave. However, the same is in view in the Parable of the Wicked Tenants. The landowner represents God who is unseen in the parable. At God’s command, the servants and son are sent, and the wicked tenants are punished. The reality of God’s existence at least to some degree verifies unseen transcendent truths. This is not to say that Jesus defends the Platonic Forms, but it does draw a similarity between the two stories, although the philosophical implications cannot be pressed too far. Both stories show that there is more to the world than just the physical reality one sees.

The Advocates Proclaiming the Truths of the Unseen Realm. In both stories, the authors hold that servants of the unseen truths are often ridiculed and abused. This is true of the freedman in Socrates’s Allegory of the Cave and the servants and son in Jesus’s Parable of the Wicked Tenants. It is also fascinating to consider that both Socrates and Jesus were executed by the authorities because of their teachings. Jesus’s execution was far more torturous and viler. Nonetheless, both Jesus and Socrates asked questions. As one professor pointed out to me, it can sometimes be dangerous to ask too many questions.

The Choice Between God and the World. Socrates, like Jesus, was likely a monotheist living in a polytheistic world, a henotheist at the very least. By his own admonition, Socrates claims to have encountered the one true God. Regardless of the case, Socrates challenges his readers to make a choice to either live in a world of shadows by only looking to the physical world, or to step out of the cave and experience the transcendent, metaphysical truths of the divine. In like manner, Jesus noted that it was impossible to serve both God and the world (Matt. 6:24), a point that Paul addresses in Colossians 3:23-24. For whom are you working? What are you seeking? Everyone must make a choice. A non-choice is a choice. Whatever masters your heart, masters your life.

Amid the uncertainties of life, we all must ask ourselves where our allegiances lie. If you decide to work for the world, then know that it is of no profit to gain the whole world and lose your soul (Matt. 16:26). If you are only living for the here and now, then you are missing out on a larger portion of reality. Reality is like an iceberg. The part we see is minuscule compared to the realm we cannot see. If you choose to serve God, your life will not necessarily become easier. In some ways, it may become more difficult. But you will find that your life holds greater purpose and value if you do.

 


About the Author

Brian G. Chilton is the founder of BellatorChristi.com, the host of The Bellator Christi Podcast, and the author of the Layman’s Manual on Christian Apologetics. He received his Master of Divinity in Theology from Liberty University (with high distinction); his Bachelor of Science in Religious Studies and Philosophy from Gardner-Webb University (with honors); and received certification in Christian Apologetics from Biola University. Brian is enrolled in the Ph.D. program in Theology and Apologetics at Liberty University and is a member of the Evangelical Theological Society and the Evangelical Philosophical Society. Brian has been in the ministry for nearly 20 years and serves as the Senior Pastor of Westfield Baptist Church in northwestern North Carolina.

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© 2020. BellatorChristi.com.


Moral Apologetics 101: Ethical Theory and Moral Realism

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Editor’s note: In this series, we introduce the basics of building a moral argument. In this first installment, we explore the concept of ethical theory and two main positions on ethical theory: moral realism and anti-realism.

Some people think the earth is flat and they have a theory about that; that is, they have a justification or explanation for why it is rational to think that the earth is flat. This theory might involve nefarious and shadowy figures working in the dark corners of power to fake the moon landings, among other things, but there is a theory that (attempts) to explain why the earth is flat.

The same is true for other claims. Us round-earthers have a theory about why it’s rational to believe the earth is sphere shaped. Maybe the theory is a simple as this: “That the earth is round has been the consistent testimony of people in a position to know for over 2000 years and that sort of testimony is trustworthy.” The sense of theory here is broader and looser than its use in a scientific context, where theory has a narrower meaning.

Our theories extend beyond these, roughly, scientific concerns about the shape of the earth. We have theories about mundane things as well. For example, I might have a theory about why my wife is angry. Likely, she is angry because I forgot to take out the trash, though I promised I would. I have a belief and I have reasons for my belief. We can call those reasons collectively my “theory” about why my wife is angry. Now, that theory could be right or wrong. It could be partly right and partly wrong. But it is my explanation for why my wife is angry.

When we think about “theory” this way, it seems fair to say that any time we assert that something is the case (that is, we take the attitude “What I am saying is true or correct”), then we have reasons for that view. We have a theory about why we are right.

Even though this is a simple idea, there’s an important objection to consider. Sometimes, we have not reflected on why we think something is true or correct. We do not have internal, cognitive (thoughtful/meaningful) reasons for some of our beliefs. Sometimes, we simply inherit a view from our culture or our parents or some other source. If one asks a sixth grader, “Why do you think the earth is sphere shaped?” she might not have a ready explanation for why she thinks that is the case. She simply “absorbed” the view of her culture or her parents. We might say this an “external” cause of belief. It’s not a belief that is held because of investigation or introspection, but because one was caused to believe by something external to one’s self. (Significantly, an externally caused belief can be correct and rational to hold. Our sixth grade would certainly be correct that the earth is a sphere, for example). 

So, one may find herself believing that certain things are true, like the earth is a sphere or that a spouse is angry, and she either has reasons for those views that internal to herself (they are her reasons) or they are external (she was caused to believe something). Or, to put it in other words, whenever we believe that something is so, we have a theory about that something that is either held on the basis of introspection and reflection or it is given to us by our surroundings (culture/parents/friends). We have considered theories and given theories.

This is a general point, true in all aspects of life, but it’s also true when it comes to ethical theory. We all have moral or ethical beliefs that we take to be correct or true. For example, we might consider the following statements:

Stealing is always wrong.

The government should pay for healthcare.

Sometimes, it is ok to tell a lie.

People have a right to defend themselves.

It is always wrong to torture children for fun.

The best sort of life requires good friends.

It is your duty to vote.

Claims about what one ought to do, what one should do or should not do, claims about what sort of life is worthwhile and whether people have essential rights, these are often moral claims.[1] Likely, most would have a certain attitude of affirm or deny to each of these moral claims. For example, someone might take the attitude toward the proposition “stealing is always wrong,” that this moral claim is false; one might disbelieve that it is always wrong to steal.  Perhaps, thinks this person, it is right to steal if it is the only way to feed one’s family.

These reasons for a moral belief, whether they come from within oneself or from their surroundings, are an “ethical theory.”

If one believes that at least some moral claims are true, then she thinks there are “moral facts” and she is a “moral realist.”

A moral fact is a true proposition that makes some morally relevant claim.

A moral realist is a person who thinks that there are at least some moral facts.

A moral anti-realist is a person who denies that there are any moral facts.

Sometimes people are tempted to say that there are no moral facts because of “grey areas.” We’ve all heard the term “moral grey area” before. A moral “grey area” occurs when there is not  an obviously right or wrong answer to a moral question. Some moral claims are more obvious than others and, in some cases, we might not have a specific attitude toward a moral claim. For example, if I ask whether it’s morally right that the government provide healthcare, someone could say that he sees good reasons for both sides and that he’s not sure whether it is a moral obligation or not. However, if one is not sure, that does not imply that there’s no fact of the matter about whether the government should provide healthcare. It could be there is a fact of the matter, but some simply cannot discern what that fact is very easily.

However, it may be that there is no fact of the matter about whether the government should provide healthcare. If that were the case, that would not imply that there are not “deeper” moral facts about the rights of individuals, the obligations for communities to care for those who need assistance, and so on. It is important to see that the moral realist claims only that there are some moral facts and not there is a fact about every moral issue.

When asked to give an example of a moral fact, moral realists want to give what they consider to be the most obvious, least controversial example. One oft used example is this: “It is always wrong to torture children for fun.” If anything is a moral fact, this would have to be a moral fact. If one agrees that it is really, actually true that “It is always wrong to torture children for fun,” then one is a moral realist.

Some moral philosophers deny that there are such things as moral facts. They are “anti-realists” about morality and their view is called “anti-realism.” According to this view, no moral claims are correct. All moral claims may be false or even meaningless. An anti-realist might say that proposition, “it is always wrong to torture children for fun” has nothing that makes it true; no moral proposition does. Perhaps moral claims are simply statements about one’s own feelings. In that case, if one asserts that “It is always wrong to torture children for fun,” she can only really mean that she dislikes child torture or that it makes her feel bad. Asserting it is wrong like saying, “Boo! Child torture Boo!”  Anti-realists may also say that moral claims are merely conventional statements that have only a provisional meaning based on custom, tradition, or habit.

Therefore, with respect to moral judgments, we can see that there are two camps: realist and anti-realist. The realist says that there are at least some moral facts, moral claims are cognitive (they have meaning and they are intelligible) and the anti-realist denies that there any moral facts. There’s nothing to ground moral truths, in this view, or, perhaps, moral claims are non-cognitive expressions of emotion or preference.  

As we can see, in terms of ethical theory, there are deep disagreements and the natural question, at this point, would be why. What motivates these fundamentally different views about ethical truth?

In general, moral realism is considered the “default” position and so, often, moral anti-realists are saddled with the burden of proof. According to an informal survey of philosophers (PhilPapers Survey), most agree that moral realism is the correct view while about 30% argue that anti-realism is correct. Geoff Sayre-McCord, a philosopher teaching at the University of North Carolina, claims that “moral realism can fairly claim to have common sense and initial appearances on its side.”

The reason that Sayre-McCord might say that moral realism has this advantage is that most of us simply find ourselves believing in moral realism and we find ourselves having a high degree of confidence in these beliefs. It seems obvious to most people that there are at least some moral facts. A simple argument for moral realism might go like this: “I am surer that it is wrong to torture children for fun than I could be of any argument against this belief.”

This might not seem like a very good argument for moral realism, and perhaps it is not. Although, this sort of reply is a widely employed reply to other kinds of skepticism.  For example, suppose that Joe looks at a tree outside the window. For Joe, this means he has the experience of looking out the window at a tree. For Joe, it seems there is a tree out there. In walks Jim. Jim just finished watching The Matrix and now Jim thinks that the external world is an illusion created by very sophisticated robots. Jim sees Joe looking at the tree and says, “There’s no tree out there, Joe. Wake up!”

What might Joe’s response be? Joe could develop a number of replies to this distressing assertion, but it also seems warranted for Joe to reply like this: “Jim, I am more sure that there is a tree out there than any harebrained argument you might give! I see the tree; it’s right there!”  For many, the truth of moral facts are impressed on the mind in a way analogous to the way the “tree out there” is impressed on Joe’s mind. It is a basic fact of experience and, therefore, one is rationally warranted in believing there are trees out the window as well as that there are moral facts.

Still, one might have good reasons for thinking there actually is not a tree out there and so that basic belief in “the tree out there” might lose its warrant. What if Joe had evidence that he actually did live in a simulation?

Anti-realists have two main strategies in defense of their view. First, anti-realists often argue that there is dis-confirming evidence of the existence of moral facts. In our analogy, they would offer Joe some evidence that undermines Joe’s belief in the tree out there. It’s important to see that anti-realists don’t need to show that there are no moral facts; he could simply show that we are not justified in believing there are any moral facts.

One of the most popular ways to argue this point flows from what is called “the diversity thesis.” The diversity thesis is the observation that there is widespread moral disagreement in the world. People disagree about what is moral, and they disagree frequently and substantially. That this is so is obvious from human experience (and is admitted readily by moral realists), but it may be that sometimes the depth of moral disagreements is exaggerated. Nevertheless, some anti-realists think this is an important piece of evidence. They might use this piece of evidence like this: If there were moral facts, then we would expect that people would mostly agree on these facts. However, people disagree on virtually any candidate for a moral fact. Therefore, the level of moral agreement is inconsistent with there being moral facts. Likely, then, there are no moral facts (or, at least, moral facts are indiscernible).

The diversity thesis is the observation that there is widespread moral disagreement in the world.

Anti-realists might also build a more positive case. They might begin by assuming a materialist perspective, or a sufficiently similar view. Materialism is the view that only material things exist, things like space, energy, and matter. For there to be moral facts, there must be something to make these facts true; there must be a moral “truth-maker.”  But there is no obvious way that facts about material things can ground moral facts. What sort of truth about atoms and energy could ground something as strange and exotic as morality? Moral facts, if such things exist, would seem to be facts about something qualitatively different than merely material things. Of course, that is not to say that all materialists are anti-realists. A good many are moral realists. Many materialists who are not, though, would argue there just is no real connection between the real (material) world and our moral assertions.

Realists might also develop a positive case. One common assumption among moral realists is that there are moral facts and there is something that makes these moral facts true. There is a reason or ground for moral facts. Earlier, I suggested that people are entitled to belief in some moral facts on the basis of a certain kind of impression on the mind, like someone is entitled to believe “there is a tree out there” when things align in such way that he has a certain kind of impression that “there is a tree out there.” But moral realists can go beyond appealing to moral experience (which many consider sufficient grounds). One might argue first for something that could ground moral facts and then that this thing actually does ground moral facts. Perhaps the most obvious and popular way to do this would be to argue that God exists. God would be the sort of thing that could ground moral facts, since he is the “greatest conceivable being,” or that is how God is thought of in the Western philosophical tradition. So, if God exists, it is natural to think that moral facts also obtain.

There are other ways to argue for a ground of moral facts, though. One might argue that some sort of realm of abstract objects is needed to make sense out of language and to solve the problem of the one and the many. If there is some non-material realm which gives sense and meaning to our concepts, perhaps this realm could also ground the sense and meaning of moral claims. Why think that claims about abstract ideas like triangles and mathematics are fundamentally different sorts of claims than moral ones? Perhaps, like Plato thought, the Good exists and has the power to determine the truth or falsity of moral claims.

What we see from these examples of positive cases is that different views about what is ultimately real or the ultimate nature of the world make a difference in how moral claims are justified (if they are justified) and they may, as we will see later in term, make a difference in what is considered moral in the first place.

To sum up: We have seen that people make moral claims and that when a moral claim is made, it assumes something about the world. If a person thinks that her moral claims are true, then she assumes some form of moral realism. This is how most people think about their moral claims; they think they are true. However, some people doubt that moral claims are true or that they can be known to be true. These are moral anti-realists.

[1]One can distinguish between a moral should/ought and a merely teleological should/ought. If I want to achieve X, then I should do Y which results in X.  If I want to be a better bowler, then I should invest bowling lessons. This is a merely teleological use of should/ought. 

Mailbag: How do you define the good?

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Hi. I had a quick morality question for you. I hope that’s okay. I’ve been working with students at the local college campus, discussing morality. I’m wondering how do you define “the Good”? I’ll usually say something like “the Good is that which conforms to the nature and will of God.” What do you think?

Dave

Hi Dave! Thanks for the note. Your question is of course such a great one, and it is one of the hardest ones. Let me say a bit why I find it so devilishly difficult. Of course folks use “good” in nonmoral evaluative ways all the time—like "my computer is good." Thomists though want to put this sort of teleological consideration into the center of their ethical theory. Something is good to the extent it fulfills its function, or something like that, they will say.

Likewise with human beings, though morality enters the picture more explicitly with us, and if we are made by God and for intimacy with Him and others, then loving God and neighbor is what our purpose is. Thus, to the extent we do such things, we are (morally) good.

I don’t think that’s terrible. It probably has a lot going for it. But there has to be more, it seems to me, because of an example I think Wolterstorff comes up with: a serial killer’s “purpose” is to kill lots of people. So he’s a good serial killer if he does. But there is nothing moral about such goodness. So we have to ask not just whether someone or something performs his or her or its function or purpose, but whether the function or purpose is itself good. At that point a purely teleological account of the good seems to require something more deontological.

So regarding moral goodness in particular, what constitutes the standard or ground of moral value? To me the best account we have is the Christian God, owing to his nature. Of course our naturalist friends who are objectivists on such matters usually point to something like human flourishing. And there is some truth in that, it seems to me. This is what makes disambiguating these partially divergent/overlapping views onerous. As a Christian I’m convinced we were meant for flourishing, eudaimonia, shalom, joy, etc. But the question then becomes, what does that look like for us as humans? And the answer to that query invariably rides on what is ultimately real. If we are mere collocations of atoms and nothing else, our highest fulfillments are likely reducible to naturalistic items. But moral langauge and logic and phenomenology, to my thinking, all point beyond categories that naturalism alone can manage.

So I’m inclined to think the joy and telos for which we were designed requires more than that. So even if I were to agree that what's “good” for us is our flourishing (or something in that vicinity), it still points to something likely transcendent—something, I suspect, like the beatific vision. It seems to me the point is this: we cannot simply speak of what’s good for us and think we’re done; that very question drives us to ask what is good in and of itself.

Now, certain of our experiences are good intrinsically—like our friendships. But what is the ground of such intrinsic goods? Again, I don’t see how we avoid metaphysics if we really want to be thoughtful about it, and to me the best explanation seems likely to be classical theism. The nature of such a God seems to be at the front and center of what “the Good” is. This puts me in the theistic Platonist camp, but of course one can be a Christian without buying that. But it’s where I tend to go. Like you, I’m inclined to say that things are good to the extent they partake in or resemble the ultimate good. That is what makes sense of the value of friendship—it resembles God’s loving nature. At least that’s how I see it.

Christian theology makes even more fine-grained the analysis, since we know God’s nature to be Trinitarian—an eternal dance of other-regarding love. So this makes great sense of love being at the center of things, and of loving God and neighbor capturing all the laws and prophets. We are invited to participate in the love that functions at the foundation of reality and always has.

Ultimately I suspect we can effect a sort of rapprochement between Platonic and Thomistic accounts of the good, since we have been made in God’s image. What is best for us (loving relationships with God and others) and most conduces to our joy depends on what is most ultimately real and good in and of itself (God himself, indeed Trinitarian love).

Note, though, that this isn’t so much a “definition” of goodness as something else. I agree with Moore that we can’t define it. I still suspect, and think there’s good reason to believe, God is in some sense constitutive of it. That is more analysis than definition. And since God’s ineffable, this account has the advantage of rendering ultimate goodness, too, beyond our ken in ineliminable respects, necessitating what Adams calls a “critical stance” toward any other (likely deflationary) rival account of the good.

So, yes, hard question!! But in a nutshell that’s what I’m inclined to say. Thanks for the question.

djb

Problems in Value Theory An Introduction to Contemporary Debates: Matt Flannagan's Chapter with Graham Oppy is finally published

Editor’s Note: This article was originally published at MandM.org.nz.

Yesterday, I was informed that the book Problems in Value Theory An Introduction to Contemporary Debates has finally been published. The book is now available both on amazon on Bloomsbury’s website. Chapter 3 of this book “Does Morality Depend on God?” is co-authored by myself and Graham Oppy (Monash University). Both Graham and I each wrote an article (around 5000 words) spelling out our respective answers to the question, and then wrote a shorter piece (1500 words) where we responded to the other’s original essay. 

Problems in Value Theory is edited by Steve Cowan (Lincoln Memorial University). The table of contents is as follows:

  Introduction, Steven B. Cowan

  Part I: Problems in Ethics and Aesthetics

 Introduction to Part I, Steven B. Cowan

  1. Is Morality Relative?

 Morality Is Relative, Michael Ruse

 Morality Is Objective, Francis J. Beckwith

 Responses:

 Beckwith’s Response to Ruse

 Ruse’s Response to Beckwith

  2. What Makes Actions Right or Wrong?

 Consequences Make Actions Right, Alastair Norcross

 Respect for Persons Makes Actions Right, Mark Linville

 Responses:

 Linville’s Response to Norcross

 Norcross’s Response to Linville

  3. Does Morality Depend on God?

 Morality Depends on God, Matthew Flannagan

 Morality Does Not Depend on God, Graham Oppy

 Responses:

 Oppy’s Response to Flannagan

 Flannagan’s Response to Oppy

  4. Is Beauty in the Eye of the Beholder?

 Beauty is Relative, James Mock

 Beauty is Objective, Carol S. Gould

 Responses:

 Gould’s Response to Mock

 Mock’s Response to Gould

  5. What Is the Meaning of Life?

 The Meaning of Life Is Found in God, Douglas Groothuis

 The Meaning of Life Can Be Found without God, Christine Vitrano

 Responses:

 Vitrano’s Response to Groothuis

 Groothuis” s Response to Vitrano

  Essay Suggestions

 For Further Reading

  Part II: Problems in Political Philosophy

 Introduction to Part II, Steven B. Cowan

  6. Do We Need Government?

 We Do Not Need Government, Roderick T. Long

 We Need Some Government, Alex Tuckness

 Responses:

 Tuckness’s Response to Long

 Long’s Response to Tuckness

  7. Should Wealth Be Redistributed?

 Wealth Should Be Redistributed, Jon Mandle

 Wealth Should Not Be Redistributed, Jan Narveson

 Responses:

 Narveson’s Response to Mandle

 Mandle’s Response to Narveson

 8. When May the Government Wage War?

 The Government Should Never Wage War, Andrew Alexandra

 The Government May Sometimes Wage War, Nathan L. Cartagena

 Responses:

 Cartagena’s Response to Alexandra

 Alexandra’s Response to Cartagena

  Essay Suggestions

 For Further Reading

 Index

 The blurb from Bloomberry is as follows:

Problems in Value Theory takes a pro and con approach to central topics in aesthetics, ethics and political theory.

 Each chapter begins with a question: What Makes Actions Right or Wrong? Does Morality Depend on God? Do We Need Government? Contemporary philosophers with opposing viewpoints are then paired together to argue their position and raise problems with conflicting standpoints. Alongside an up-to-date introduction to a core philosophical stance, each contributor provides a critical response to their opponent and clear explanation of their view.

 Discussion questions are included at the end of each chapter to guide further discussion.

 With chapters ranging from why the government should never wage war to what is art and does morality depend on God, this introduction covers questions lying at the heart of debates about what does and does not have value.

Get your copy now, read it, and let me know what you think both here and on Amazon. I am sure there is much more both Graham and I could say on this topic. Graham Oppy is one the best Philosophers of Religion in the world, and it was a real privilege being part of this project with him.  

Snow White, the Seven Dwarfs, and Simplifying the Abortion Debate with One Question

Snow White, the Seven Dwarfs, and Simplifying the Abortion Debate with One Question

Stephen S. Jordan

As the father of three young children, a good bit of my spare time is spent eating popcorn and watching Disney movies and superhero films. Although scenes from these movies oftentimes leave impressions upon me, there is one scene that I have thought about for quite some time—especially in light of the abortion debate.

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In Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, the Magic Mirror reveals to the Queen that Snow White is now “the fairest” in the land, which sparks jealousy in the Queen and motivates her to instruct the Huntsman to take Snow White into the forest and kill her. As proof of Snow White’s death, the Huntsman is ordered to return to the jealous Queen with Snow White’s heart in a jeweled box. However, the Huntsman, in a moment of clarity, simply cannot bring himself to kill Snow White. Overcome with emotion, he tearfully pleads for Snow White’s forgiveness, disclosing to her that the Queen wants her dead. Therefore, he urges her to flee into the woods and never return.

Lost and afraid, the princess eventually stumbles upon what appears to be an empty cottage deep in the forest. In reality, the cottage, which is rather untidy upon Snow White’s arrival, is occupied by the Seven Dwarfs who are away from their home while working at a nearby mine. As the Dwarfs return to their home after a full day’s work, they are alarmed when they notice that the lights in their cottage are on and the inside of the cottage is now clean and tidy, leaving them to suspect that an intruder has broken into their home while they were away. Carefully searching through their home, beginning with the downstairs and eventually moving to the upstairs, the Dwarfs find “the intruder” completely covered with a sheet and asleep across several of the beds on the upper floor. Surrounding “the intruder” and arming themselves with weapons of their own choosing—from clubs to mattocks—the Seven Dwarfs raise their weapons in the air and prepare to eliminate “the intruder,” when Happy loudly exclaims three words that cause the other Dwarfs to immediately stop in their tracks.

These three words, actually forming a question, are the most important words in the entire abortion debate. Everything rises or falls on the answer to this question:

What is it?”

Before the Seven Dwarfs killed Snow White, they answered the question raised by Happy: “What is it?” Then, upon realizing Snow White’s identity as a human being, they lowered their weapons. She wasn’t an “intruder” after all; she was “a girl.”[1] This reveals an important principle: Before killing something, we must first determine the identity of what we are killing.

We must apply the same question—“What is it?—to the abortion debate. One of America’s leading bioethicists, Scott Klusendorf, maintains that we can simplify the debate by focusing on the one question that matters more than all others: “What is the unborn?[2] Elsewhere, Greg Koukl writes, “Whether or not it’s right to take the life of any living thing depends entirely on the question what it is” (emphasis added).[3] If the unborn are members of the human family, then killing them is morally wrong because it treats distinct human beings, possessing intrinsic moral worth, as nothing more than disposable objects. On the flip side, as Klusendorf and Ensor indicate, “[I]f the unborn are not human, killing them for any reason requires no more justification than having a tooth pulled.”[4]

Earlier I mentioned that I am the father of three young children, one of whom is a boy. Although both of my older children enjoy playing with all kinds of bugs and insects, my son is known to inflict what he calls the “Hulk smash” on these tiny creatures from time-to-time. For a moment, consider this scenario:

Imagine my son coming to me with something behind his back and asking, “Daddy, can I kill it?” My question to my son would be, “What is it?” If it was a bug or insect, I might say something like: “Sure, just not in the house and not in front of your mother.”

If my son came to me again with something behind his back and asked the same question, I would again respond by asking, “What is it?” If it was a small dog belonging to my neighbors, I would be upset that my son would even consider killing the puppy as an option. “No, we can’t kill the neighbors’ dog,” would be my response.

Now, think about my son coming to me a third time with something behind his back, inquiring, “Daddy, can I kill it?” Yet again, my question would be: “What is it?” This time, if it was his baby sister, I’d immediately stop what I was doing and take him to counseling, because it is obvious to virtually everyone that taking the life of a small child is morally reprehensible.[5]

The above scenario, along with the scene from Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, makes clear that the most important question we must ask and answer when deciding whether we should kill something is: “What is it?” Again, before killing something, we must first determine the identity of what we are killing. With the abortion issue, are we talking about a disposable clump of tissue and cells or a human person possessing intrinsic value? If the former, then abortion is permissible for any reason; if the latter, virtually no reason for aborting an unborn child is justified.

Here’s the point: Before deciding where you stand on the abortion issue, you must first ask yourself, “What is the unborn?” If you do your research, carefully examining both the science of embryology and the arguments of philosophy, you might come to the same conclusion as Doc in Snow White: “It’s a girl!”[6] or “It’s a boy!” In other words, you’ll come to the conclusion that the unborn, even “[f]rom the earliest stages of development…are distinct, living, and whole human beings. Therefore, every ‘successful’ abortion ends the life of a living human being.”[7]


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Stephen S. Jordan currently serves as a high school Bible teacher at Liberty Christian Academy in Lynchburg, Virginia. He is also a Bible teacher, curriculum developer, and curriculum editor at Liberty University Online Academy, as well as a PhD candidate at the Liberty University Rawlings School of Divinity. Prior to his current positions, Stephen served as youth pastor at Pleasant Ridge Baptist Church in State Road, North Carolina. He and his wife, along with their three children and German shepherd, reside in Goode, Virginia.


notes:

[1] In response to Happy’s question, Doc responds by shouting, “It’s a girl!”

[2] Scott Klusendorf, The Case for Life: Equipping Christians to Engage the Culture (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Books, 2009), 22. As a side note, on at least one occasion, I had the privilege of having Mr. Klusendorf in my classroom at Liberty Christian Academy, where he spoke to my students on the abortion issue.

[3] Greg Koukl, Precious Unborn Human Persons (Lomita, CA: STR Press, 1998), 7.

[4] John Ensor and Scott Klusendorf, Stand for Life: A Student’s Guide for Making the Case and Saving Lives (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson Publishers, 2012), 8.

[5] Ensor and Klusendorf share a similar scenario in Stand for Life, 21. I’ve also heard Scott Klusendorf use this same scenario in a number of debates, lectures, etc. Interestingly, Klusendorf admits that he actually borrows this example from Koukl in Precious Unborn Human Persons, 7.

[6] Again, this was Doc’s answer to Happy’s question.

[7] Klusendorf, The Case for Life, 35.