Do we ever have an obligation to choose to hold beliefs, religious or otherwise? The relations between belief, volition and moral responsibility are the subject of William James' widely discussed essay ‘The Will to Believe’. James first takes up the relationship between volition and belief: Does it make sense to speak of choosing to believe a proposition? His answer is that it does, in the sense that we can choose to act in ways which encourage the production of a believing attitude in ourself. For example, we can be selective in attending to evidence, and we can incline ourselves toward belief by acting as though we already believe. By avoiding certain influences and subjecting ourself to others, we can encourage the development of belief. In so doing, we in effect treat ourself as a third person, and our behaviour is analogous to what we might engage in when encouraging others toward favourable evidence. The question of moral responsibility then becomes appropriate in our own case in a way analogous to that in which it does with respect to our belief-producing actions toward others. Just as the deception of others raises moral questions, so does the deception of ourselves.

In 1968, R. M. Hare gave a series of lectures at the Yale Divinity School, two of which were published subsequently under the title ‘The Simple Believer’.1 In those published lectures Hare enlarged upon and defended the view, which he shares with R. B. Braithwaite, that Christian commitment is best understood as being what I will call a particular world-attitude. In brief, Hare described the Christian world-attitude as consisting, first, of the adoption of a set of practical-normative standards, prescriptions as to what we should do and be, for instance, in our various cognitive and moral endeavours. Central to this overall Christian picture of human flourishing, including cognitive flourishing, is the notion of love (agape). The Christian world-attitude, in addition, involves the belief that the efforts that we make to realize these standards are not pointless in the world as it is. This faith, this refusal to doubt in connection with both moral and cognitive endeavours, is naturally expressed in religious terms, perhaps most obviously in terms of trust in the providence of God.

The argument from evil is an argument which attempts to prove that God does not exist by arguing that the amount of evil (pain, suffering, injustice) in the world is incompatible with the existence ofan all-powerful, all-knowing, and morally perfect being. Theists have traditionally responded to this argument by saying that God is not morally responsible for failure to prevent evil because he cannot do so consistently with maintaining human free agency, because the evil is necessary to build our personal character and develop our talents, because it is necessary to provide a test of our faith, etc.

I. Introduction There are still those who think that, if the word ‘miracle’ means a violation of a law of nature, miracles are either impossible or undetectable or a threat to science. I shall take the opposite side and argue that, thus defined, miracles are possible, are detectable in principle, and, again in principle, can be endorsed without compromising legitimate scientific aspirations.

In the philosophy of mysticism, an important and foundational problem concerns the nature of mystical experience. The problem is both significant and basic because an understanding of the nature of mystical experience is a necessary precondition for the evaluation of its epistemological, ontological, and ethical significance, and will in fact influence that evaluation. In other words, our ideas about the nature of mystical experience are premises for our conclusions about the role of mystical experience in human knowledge, about the ‘object (s)’, if any, of mystical experience, and about the value and moral implications of mystical experience.

Disorder and suffering are increasing significantly in our society. Violent crime, unemployment, escape through drug-taking are all on the increase. It is apparent, also, that much of this disorder and suffering, and the anxiety it fosters, is rooted in science and its technological off-spring. The un-employment produced by a micro-technology is only one small example. It is also apparent that one of the principal foundation stones for the scientific enterprise was Christianity.

It has recently been suggested by Richard R. La Croix that there is a logical incompatibility between the doctrine of divine omniprescience — the notion that God knows what will happen in the future — and the commonly held belief that literary authors are creative with respect to the compositions they produce. This suggestion is, I take it, part of the overall claim that God's omniscience rules out human free choices, since if what one does is known before one does it, then one can hardly be said to have chosen it. I will not, however, be concerned with this general controversy in the present paper, but rather with the specific one regarding literary creativity and divine omniprescience. La Croix defends this claim by defining literary creativity as follows:

literary authorship is creative in the sense that by means of his composing activity an author is an agent who brings about the existence of some thing (e.g. a play, a poem, a novel, etc.) which did not exist prior to the composing activity of that agent and which would not exist without the composing activity of that agent or some similar agent.

Patrick McGrath has argued that my defence of papal infallibility does not succeed. His basic strategy is to establish that, contrary to my arguments, infallible papal utterances are statements and not merely declarations. He wants this result in order to go on to show that the Pope, in possession of no priviliged epistemic access to the world, is not infallible. I agree that the Pope has no priviliged epistemic access; so that is not in dispute. What is in dispute is the fundamental question of whether infallible papal utterances are statements or declarations. I want to show that McGrath's arguments against my position do not work. If I am successful, then the Pope's infallibility is secure.

The title of A. P. Martinich's article is a misnomer. What he is defending is not the doctrine of infallibility as defined by the First Vatican Council and as understood by Roman Catholic theologians, but his own highly personal and, to my mind, entirely mistaken interpretation of the doctrine. This interpretation derives from the fact that some purportedly infallible utterances contain the expression ‘we declare that…’. This leads Martinich to believe that such utterances are declarations rather than statements and since declarations, as he appears to understand the term, create facts rather than express them, he concludes that it is logically impossible for an ‘infallible utterance’ to be false. The papal claim to infallibility is thus no longer open to question since ‘the fact-making quality of infallible utterances guarantees their correctness’.