There are various argumentative strategies for advancing the claim that God does not exist. One such strategy is this. First, one notes that God is meant to have a certain divine attribute (such as omniscience). One then argues that having the relevant attribute is impossible. One concludes that God doesn't exist. For instance, Dennis Whitcomb's recent paper, ‘Grounding and omniscience’, proceeds in exactly this way. As Whitcomb says, ‘I'm going to argue that omniscience is impossible and that therefore there is no God.’ This is not, I hope to show, a very promising way to start a paper. If having a given property is impossible, the greatest possible being need not have that property. Accordingly, the argumentative strategy in question is doomed to failure. The upshot of this article is a quite general one concerning how arguments against the existence of God in fact must proceed.

Sceptical theists attempt to block the evidential argument from evil by arguing that a key premise of that argument – that gratuitous evil exists – cannot reasonably be maintained. They argue that, for all we know, our knowledge of reasons God may have to permit such evil is radically incomplete. Thus the fact that we cannot identify reasons for God to permit the evil we observe does not allow us reasonably to conclude that no such reasons exist. In response, Erik Wielenberg has pointed out what appears to be, for many sceptical theists, an unfortunate further consequence of their position. According to Wielenberg, if sceptical theism is correct, then, similarly, the fact that we cannot identify reasons why God would lie to us does not allow us reasonably to conclude no such reasons exist. But then, for all we know, God's word constitutes not a divine revelation but a divine lie. This article examines sceptical theist responses to Wielenberg's argument to date (from Segal, and McBrayer and Swenson) and develops two new Wielenberg-style arguments for the same conclusion.

I think that there is much about contemporary philosophy of religion that should change. Most importantly, philosophy of religion should be philosophy of religion, not merely philosophy of theism, or philosophy of Christianity, or philosophy of certain denominations of Christianity, or the like. Here, however, I shall complain about one fairly narrow aspect of contemporary philosophy of religion that really irks me: its obsession with derivations that have as their conclusion either the claim that God exists or the claim that God does not exist. I shall work myself up by degrees.

Next to the problem of evil, the problem of divine hiddenness is the most prominent single argument for atheism in the current literature. Most advocates of the problem target what can be termed ‘generic theism’, theism abstracted from any particular religious tradition. Correspondingly most replies are made from the perspective of generic theism. While understandable, this common structure to the dialectic can obscure possible replies centred on the doctrinal resources of particular religions. I argue here that Christian soteriology provides a good reason why God might refrain from making His existence rationally indubitable to all.

Taking the good (generosity), the true (enquiry), and the beautiful (creativity) as exemplars of what can make a life noticeably meaningful, elsewhere I have advanced a principle that entails and plausibly explains all three. Specifically, I have proffered the view that great meaning in life, at least in so far as it comes from this triad, is a matter of positively orienting one's rational nature towards fundamental conditions of human existence, conditions of human life responsible for much else about it. Iddo Landau has raised important objections to this principle, arguing in particular that contouring one's rationality towards fundamentality is neither necessary nor sufficient for great meaning in life. In this article, I reply to Landau's objections to the fundamentality account of what makes life very meaningful. I thereby aim to enrich reflection about what it is about the lives of Nelson Mandela, Mother Teresa, Albert Einstein, and Pablo Picasso that made them so significant as well as to indicate how fundamentality implicitly plays a key role in theistic conceptions of meaning in life.

In ‘Moral critique and defence of theodicy’ (2013) Samuel Shearn argues that ambitious theodicies trivialize horrendous suffering in an unacceptable way by reinterpreting evils in a way sufferers do not accept. Against Shearn, the authors of this article will argue that sufferer acceptance should not be used as a criterion for the moral acceptability of what theodicies say about horrendous evils. Also, since theodicy is done in the public square, Shearn does not find it relevant to distinguish between contexts in which it is morally improper to communicate theodicies and those in which it is not. We disagree, and present some arguments as to why making such distinctions is morally relevant. Furthermore Shearn argues that theodicy is self-defeating if it aims to comfort sufferers of horrendous evils. We will critically re-examine the examples used to support his conclusion, and suggest that theodicies do have a comforting function. Finally, Shearn describes the difference between theodicy and anti-theodicy as an aesthetic impasse, rather than a moral issue. Against this, we find good reasons to affirm its predominant moral character.

What does it mean to love God ‘more’ than people? This article engages the difficulty of defining worship, veneration, and idolatry, by looking at C. S. Lewis's observations on the subject. Lewis offers helpful nudges towards more than a merely conceptual distinction, but he does not consistently apply his love principles to cover human love for the saints (Mary in particular). The article concludes with eight follow-up questions that benefit philosophers and theologians alike as they seek to formulate more focused definitions of worship, veneration, and idolatry.

In this article I seek to show the importance of spirituality for a neo-Aristotelian account of ‘the good life’. First, I lay out my account of spirituality. Second, I discuss why the issue of the place of spirituality in the good life has often either been ignored or explicitly excluded from consideration by neo-Aristotelians. I suggest that a lot turns on how one understands the ‘ethical naturalism’ to which neo-Aristotelians are committed. Finally, I argue that through a deeper exploration of the evaluative standpoint from within our human form of life as ‘meaning-seeking animals’ we can come to better appreciate the importance of spirituality for human beings throughout recorded history up to the present and why we can be described as homo religiosus.

It is often objected to the Christian doctrine of the resurrection of the dead that if we reject dualism and disembodied existence there is no way even for God to bring it about that a resurrected person is identical with his or her supposed original, rather than just a duplicate. My response is that if God intended all along that people should have two periods of existence, the problem vanishes. In a Test Match, there are long periods when the ground and stands are empty and no play takes place, yet no-one says that the resumed game may only be a duplicate of that of the previous day. The same holds for a resurrection intended from the beginning.

This article argues that the Theistic Compatibilist's typical understanding of what amounts to an intelligible, non-arbitrary free choice undermines God's freedom and the contingency of creation. I further suggest and reject four possible ways for Theistic Compatibilists to respond to this problem in light of their metaphysical commitments to freedom and explanation. I close with discussion of a possible way for Theistic Compatibilists to avoid this problem.

The problem of evil is typically presented as a problem – sometimes the problem – facing theistic realists. This article takes no stance on what effect (if any) the existence of evil has on the rationality of theistic belief. Instead, it explores the possibility of using the problem of evil to generate worries for some of those who reject theistic realism. Although this article focuses on the consequences for a particular kind of religious fictionalist, the lessons adduced are intended to have more general application.

The problem of evil contains some evaluative claims. Recognizing the fundamental role of the evaluative claims within the problem of evil presents two significant problems for the argument from evil. First, in order for the argument from evil to be successful, the normative assumptions that underlie the evaluative claims within the problem of evil must be deployed consistently both within the problem and between those who are discussing the problem. This level of normative agreement is likely to be difficult to achieve. Second, the argument from evil moves from evaluative premises to a non-evaluative conclusion, and thus commits the same error that J. L. Mackie identifies the moral argument for the existence of God as committing: it gets the direction of supervenience between facts and values back-to-front. Mackie's criticisms of the moral argument for the existence of God ought to also apply to the moral argument against the existence of God. If my analysis is correct, and Mackie's point is valid, then the argument from evil will be left fatally undermined. The problem of evil cannot be used to argue for the conclusion that ‘God does not exist’.