The Revd Dr David Efird passed away at the beginning of 2020. He was 45. David was a much-loved teacher and a leading figure in philosophy of religion in the UK. He was also the co-editor of this journal between 2016 and 2018.

If God loves us and so desires union with us, why is it that so many, who once felt close to God and who have subsequently done nothing to precipitate separation from him, now experience only his absence? A metaphor which has been used repeatedly to answer this question is that separation from God is a kind of spiritual weaning process in which God uses the experience of his absence in order to bring about maturation and greater union with him. After discussing the use of this metaphor in Kierkegaard's Fear and Trembling and John of Cross's poem The Dark Night of the Soul, I discuss the question of how someone's absence could be good for their maturation. I argue that separation has an important role to play in deepening relationships of love – drawing on research in de-adaptation in the psychological and sociological literature, I argue that in order for there to be a union of love, there must be an experience of both dependence and independence. This position can explain why God allows people who engage in the spiritual life to suffer the pain of separation from him.

What is it to lead a Christian life? At least part of the answer, from St Paul to Thomas à Kempis, to makers of WWJD bracelets, is to imitate Christ. But while there is a lot of practical advice in the spiritual literature for imitating Christ, there is little by way of philosophical analysis of what it is to imitate Christ. In this article, I aim to fill this lacuna. I argue that the imitation of Christ, as conceived of by St Paul, Thomas à Kempis, and others, requires a radical transformation of character, which, in turn, I argue, based on considerations from developmental psychology, requires direct engagement with Christ. This conclusion may be surprising, since Christ does not seem to be directly present to contemporary believers in the same way as, say, a mother is directly present to her infant child. I deal with this objection, and conclude with some applications of this approach to the philosophy of Christian spirituality.

In response to John Bishop's (2007) account of passionally caused believing, Dan-Johan Eklund (2014) argues that conscious non-evidential believing is (conceptually) impossible, that is, it's (conceptually) impossible consciously to believe that p whilst acknowledging that the relevant evidence doesn't support p's being true, for it conflicts with belief being a truth-oriented attitude, or so he argues. In this article, we present Eklund's case against Bishop's account of passionally caused believing, and we argue that it's unpersuasive, at least to those who accept permissivism about evidence, that is, that it's possible for there to be more than one rational response to a given body of evidence. We do this through a novel application of a case of nurtured belief, that is, of a person holding a belief simply because she was caused to do so by her upbringing, and we use it to show exactly where Eklund's argument goes wrong. We conclude by drawing a general lesson drawn from this debate: if permissivism about evidence is true, then belief being truth-oriented is consistent with non-evidential believing being possible.

Søren Kierkegaard's account of faith in Philosophical Fragments claims that the historical Incarnation is necessary for faith, but that historical evidence for the Incarnation is neither necessary nor sufficient for faith. It has been argued that the defence of these two claims gives rise to a faith/history problem for Kierkegaard and that it is incoherent to defend an account of faith which affirms both the necessity of the historical Incarnation and rejects the necessity and sufficiency of the historical evidence for the Incarnation. I argue that this problem can be solved by applying Eleonore Stump's (2013) account of divine–human union. I argue that the Incarnation is necessary because it allows us to enjoy a kind of mutual empathy with Christ which is the basis of divine–human union and that the historical evidence is neither necessary nor sufficient since faith is grounded in a second-person experience of Christ. I claim that this solves the faith/history problem and offers a way of defending Kierkegaard's account of faith as coherent.