Author: vardycharlotte

GCSE Islam Practices: The Shahadah is the most important pillar of Islam. Evaluate this statement.

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The Shahadah is not the most important pillar of Islam because, for Sunni Muslims, all five pillars are equally important in supporting faith. The Shahadah is only stating what Muslims believe, and this means nothing unless Muslims enact their faith by praying, giving Zakah, fasting during Ramadan and trying to go on Hajj. For Muslims true faith or Iman involves actions as well as words. The Qur’an specifically warns that saying something like the Shahadah but not really understanding or acting on it is worse than not saying it at all. “So woe to those who pray but are heedless of their prayer.” Qur’an 107:4-5. Shia Muslims would agree, pointing out that although they say the Shahadah, it is not one of their obligatory acts to do so, suggesting that it is a given that practicing Islam follows on from admitting that there is One God, Allah and that Muhammad is the Messenger of Allah.

Nevertheless, some Muslims may argue that praying, giving Zakah, fasting or going on pilgrimage means nothing if people do not truly believe in the oneness of Allah (Tawhid) or respect Muhammad as the true prophet of Allah. If a Muslim did these things out of habit or from the desire to “fit in” then they would be just as guilty of being heedless as the Muslim who might say the Shahadah without really understanding or acting on it. In this way reciting the Shahadah, whether at prayer times or at other key moments in life – the birth of a baby, the conversion of a new Muslim or in preparation for death – reminds Muslims of what all the other practices are directed towards. However, while I agree with these arguments in that they demonstrate the importance of the Shahadah, they in no way show that the Shahadah is the most important pillar of Islam. It cannot be a case of either the Shahadah or say Salah – both are equally important, stating faith and then acting on it. Qur’an 2:277 reminds Muslims that Allah’s rewards follow not only from belief but also from good deeds, prayer and giving alms. Belief on its own is not enough.

In conclusion, the Shahadah is not the most important pillar of Islam because all five pillars are of equal importance.

GCSE Islam Beliefs: The best way to understand Allah is to say that He is transcendent. Evaluate this statement.

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In a way, the best way to understand Allah is to say that He is transcendent.  However, because transcendent means above and beyond human understanding, saying that Allah is transcendent is the same as saying that we cannot understand Him.  Saying Allah is transcendent supports the tradition of using 99 names to call on Allah, rather than using any one.  The Qur’an instructs Muslims to use “the most beautiful names” to call on Allah (7:180) and in the Hadith the Prophet Muhammad said that whoever memorised all 99 names of Allah would enter Paradise.  Further, saying that Allah is transcendent is consistent with saying that Allah is one.  Tawhid is one of the six articles of Sunni Muslim faith and one of the roots of Usul ad-Dinh for Shia Muslims and stems from Qur’an 112, which affirms that Muslims should say “He is Allah, the One and Only! Allah, the Eternal, Absolute; He begetteth not nor is He begotten. And there is none like unto Him.” So Tawhid affirms that there is none like God, which suggests that He is transcendent.  The fact that Allah communicates with humanity via angels and the fact that our deeds must be recorded by Angels so that Allah can judge our actions after the end of time supports the belief that Allah is transcendent in the sense of being eternal and outside time and space. 

Nevertheless, it would be wrong to only say that Allah is transcendent and ignore His other names.  The tradition of using 99 names is designed to avoid the trap of thinking that any one Human concept, even the concept of being transcendent and beyond understanding, can contain the Nature of Allah.  Further, many Muslims prefer to focus on Allah as creator – Al-Khaliq – or the Good – Al-Barr, because these names emphasise Allah’s connection with our world rather than his remoteness from it.  If we focus on Allah being transcendent and beyond understanding then we might be tempted to abandon attempts to understand or even worship Him.  Yet, while these arguments are persuasive, they only serve to emphasise the importance of using other names for Allah as well as transcendent and do not undermine the claim that transcendent is the best thing to say about Allah’s nature. 

In conclusion, saying that Allah is transcendent is the best way to speak of Allah, although importantly not the only way to speak of Allah.  Saying that Allah is transcendent is most important as it reminds us that no name can fully capture Allah’s nature, but using other names as well is also important so people don’t abandon the important business of trying to understand Allah, even though this is an impossible task. 

GCSE Christianity Practices: The most important duty of the Church is to help people in need. Evaluate this statement.

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The most important duty of the Church is to help people in need. One reason for this is because Jesus said that the two most important commandments are to Love God and Love our neighbours (Mark 12:31-32) Jesus then explained that showing love for neighbours – all other human beings – is the same as showing love for God.  In Matthew 25 the Parable of the Sheep and the Goats Jesus said that people who had the opportunity to help people who are hungry, sick or in prison and who do nothing will be sent to hell, whereas people who help those less fortunate will be richly rewarded in heaven.  The Parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus in Luke’s Gospel makes the same point; wealth is an opportunity to help the poor and, if this opportunity is missed, there will be a severe price to pay after death. Roman Catholics would agree that social action is the most important duty of the Church; Pope Francis has made this point repeatedly.

Some Protestants might disagree however. A reason for this is that they might argue that Jesus said that “I am the door of the sheep” meaning that the only way to heaven is through faith in Him.  In Mark 10 Jesus said that even non-believers keep the 10 Commandments; doing this is not enough to be saved in itself.   In addition, they might say that although helping the poor is important, at Bethany Jesus said “the poor will always be with you” (John 14).  Faith in and service to Christ is the most important duty of any Christian and the Church must seek to promote that before everything else.  Another point that supports this would be that Jesus said to the disciples at the end of Matthew’s Gospel, just before ascending to heaven, that they should “go and make disciples of all nations, baptising them…”  Mission and evangelism is what being a disciple is all about. Nevertheless, looking at Jesus’ own example suggests that this approach is mistaken. Jesus praised the actions of the Good Samaritan in Luke 11 although he was not Jewish and did not have “the right” sort of faith.  Similarly, Jesus praised both the centurion and the Syro-Phoenecian woman because they humbled themselves for the benefit of other people.  They were not Jewish, but their love for other people meant that they saw past that barrier and did what was necessary to get help. Helping the poor was what Jesus did throughout his life and what he taught other people to do.  When a Rich Young Man approached him Jesus said that his righteous life was worth nothing if he did not sell everything to help the poor (Mark 10). 

In Conclusion, helping the poor is the most important duty of the Church. While mission and evangelism are important, that can best be achieved by social action, by making a positive difference in peoples’ lives now, rather than speaking about the next life.  People who have been helped by the Church often want to find out more about why. 

GCSE Christianity Beliefs: The stories of the incarnation prove that Jesus was the Son of God. Evaluate this statement.

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The stories of the incarnation do not prove that Jesus was the Son of God.  Some Liberal Christians would agree and would point out that although the Gospels of Matthew and Luke go to great lengths to show that Jesus’ birth fulfilled Messianic Prophecies from the Old Testament – including that the Messiah would be born of a virgin (Isaiah 7:14) and would come from Bethlehem (Micah 5:2) – they do not agree on the details and this suggests that the nativity stories could have developed in response to the demand for information about Jesus’ background rather than being historical records. John’s account of the Incarnation from Chapter 1:1-18 is even more different – although it is unequivocal in claiming that Jesus is the Son or “Word” of God, begotten not made, John does not mention Mary or Bethlehem at all.  John just asserts Jesus identity as a matter of faith rather than providing any proof.  Finally, scientists and scholars might point out that both stories about Jesus birth come from writers who are committed believers in Jesus as the Son of God, so they are likely to be biased and provide no credible, neutral evidence. 

Clearly, most Christians would disagree and argue that there are many similarities between Matthew and Luke or at least that their stories do not contradict each other.  They would say that it is very unusual to have so much information about Jesus’ birth after 2000 years from whatever source, and this suggests that Jesus’ was no ordinary baby and that his birth must have been remarkable enough to have been recorded or remembered in detail at the time. Further, they would point to the evidence of Jesus’ baptism (where God spoke to acknowledge Jesus as His Son), to the miracles and the Resurrection to support their belief that Jesus was God incarnate.  No ordinary human being nor even a prophet could have done what Jesus did.

Nevertheless, Christians would struggle to defend the claim that the stories of the incarnation (or any other part of the Gospels) PROVE Jesus’ identity as the son of God. In the end, stories are only stories, whether they are in the Bible or not.  No one of us knew Jesus or was in a position to ask or test what he meant when he called on God as His Father.  Whether anyone accepts that Jesus was God incarnate can only ever be a matter of faith. 

GCSE Christianity Beliefs: The Resurrection is the most important belief, for Christians. Evaluate this statement.

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The resurrection is the most important belief for Christians.  This is because it proved that Jesus was who he said He was – God – and so that His open promise of Salvation (which was completely undeserved and incredible) was valid.  I the Bible, Jesus foretold his death and resurrection on many occasions, and then it happened.  This shows that Jesus was omniscient like God and had command of life and death, again like God.  If the resurrection hadn’t happened we would have no way to know that Jesus’ death was enough of a sacrifice to atone for the sins of the world or that eternal life would be possible for a human being.  As St Paul wrote in 1 Corinthians 15 “if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile; you are still in your sins. Then those also who have fallen asleep in Christ are lost…”  This shows that the only hope Christians have for eternal life in heaven depends on the resurrection and is the reason why most Christians will agree with this argument.

On the other hand, there are other important beliefs, such as those affirmed in the Nicene Creed.  For example, Christians believe in the Incarnation and that Jesus was both fully man and fully God. Unless Jesus was God incarnate His death would not have had the power to atone for the sins of the world, reverse the Fall and open the way to Paradise once more. Even if Jesus had been resurrected, without the incarnation this could have been a miracle in the same tradition as Elijah ascending directly into heaven.  Nevertheless, while it is true that the incarnation is an important belief, the incarnation was not really proven until the Resurrection.  There is little consistent evidence for the incarnation in the Gospels before the resurrection; without it Jesus could have been lying or mistaken when he said “the father and I are one” and similar things.  After all, Jesus also spoke to God as a separate person, such as in the Garden of Gethsemane, and God spoke to and of Jesus as a separate person, such as at the Baptism.  This suggests that Jesus was God’s son in the sense of being the Messiah, not necessarily God incarnate. 

In conclusion, the resurrection is the most important Christian belief.  This is because it demonstrates the truth and possibility of all other central Christian beliefs, ranging from the Incarnation and Nature of God through to Salvation and Eternal Life. 

GCSE Christian Practices: For Christians, going to Church is not important. Evaluate this statement.

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The main thing is that Christians should have a personal relationship with God, but this will be easier to achieve if they attend Church. For Roman Catholic and Orthodox Christians, and to some extent for Anglicans, participating in sacraments is important.  By participating in Baptism Christians are cleansed of Original Sin and reborn to new life in Jesus.  By participating in Communion Christians are redeemed from sin and death.  Sacraments can only be administered by a Priest – usually in a Church – so if a Christian does not attend they will miss out on the outward signs which can trigger inward spiritual changes in their relationship with God. In addition, attending Church helps Christians to bond with the wider Church community.  Church gives the opportunity to learn about faith; those who do not attend may be more likely to sin. Church also gives an opportunity to put faith into action; the Letter of James teaches “do not merely listen to the Law – do what it says” and “faith without action is dead.”

Clearly many Christians would disagree.  In the UK, Church attendance is at a historic low.  Christians who do not go to Church may argue that liturgical worship is boring, that non-liturgical services add little to their relationship with God or that informal music-based worship might even be a distraction.  Jesus did not attend Church, yet managed to develop a close relationship with God. Nevertheless, these Christians underestimate the value of praying together with other Christians.  Jesus told his disciples that “whenever two or three are gathered together in my name, I am with them” (Matthew 18) suggesting that He may not always be with people who pray alone.  Further, Quakers do not have liturgical services and do not use sacraments and yet still meet regularly to worship in silence, valuing the focus and spiritual support that this gives them as well as the sense of community.

In conclusion, while it is true that developing a personal relationship with God is the most important part of Christianity, it is easier to do this through attending Church than by not. 

Critically evaluate Kant’s criticisms of the Ontological Argument. [40] 

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The ontological argument is the name that Kant himself assigned to arguments which attempt to demonstrate God’s existence from reason alone.  Starting with an a priori definition of God, such as that God is “that than which nothing greater can be conceived of” (St Anselm, Proslogion II) or that God is “supremely perfect” (Descartes, Meditation V), ontological arguments show that existence – or necessary existence – is part of that definition and thus that God’s existence is de dicto necessary, as the fact that a man is unmarried is de dicto necessary if he is a bachelor.  Having coined the term “ontological argument”, Kant went on to criticise these arguments in the opening to his Critique of Pure Reason (1781), arguing that the arguments fail because 1) all existential statements must be synthetic, 2) existence is not a perfection and 3) existence is not a predicate.  He concludes that the ontological argument is “so much labour and effort lost” because it cannot do what it sets out to do and prove God’s existence from reason alone.  Nevertheless, despite being enormously influential, Kant’s criticisms fail to establish the impossibility of an ontological argument for God’s existence because they depend on Kant’s worldview which he asserts dogmatically and fails to argue for. 

Kant’s claim that the ontological argument fails because all existential statements must be synthetic is nothing more than an assertion of his own critical worldview, developed in the years after Hume “awoke me from my dogmatic slumbers and gave a completely different direction to my enquiries…” in 1770.  Kant claims that “If, then, I try to conceive a being, as the highest reality (without any defect), the question still remains, whether it exists or not. For though in my concept there may be wanting nothing of the possible real content of a thing in general, something is wanting in its relation to my whole state of thinking, namely, that the knowledge of that object should be possible a posteriori also…” He points out that there is nothing self-contradictory about saying “God does not exist”, because existence cannot be part of the concept of God, but must always be established empirically, synthetically, so that existence is always contingent and includes the possibility of non-existence. Yet, what privileges a posteriori knowledge over a priori knowledge, beyond Kant’s assertion?  As GW Hegel noticed straightaway and as WV Quine late pointed out in his “Two Dogmas of Empiricism” (1951) Kant simply asserts that meaningful claims must be either synthetic or analytic and that all existential claims must be synthetic.  Who says that the empirical senses are the arbiters of existence or that nothing can be said to exist that is incapable of being experienced through the senses?  How could it be reasonable to suggest that the senses of a hairless ape inhabiting temperate regions of an insignificant planet orbiting a small star on an outer spiral of the milky way provide the only window on reality?  As Plato and Descartes would have agreed, the “reality” we experience through our senses is ever-changing, imperfect and seen through the filter of senses and concepts in the mind.  Concepts and ideas are permanent and our window on them through reason less misty, so it is more reasonable to see these as ultimate reality.  Further, for followers of Wittgenstein, even if Kant’s worldview is accepted, as Norman Malcolm pointed out, Kant’s worldview and thus “language game” is just one out of many.  To those who hold a different worldview – such as a Platonic worldview in which ultimate reality is metaphysical and the means of accessing it reason – the claim that all existential statements must be synthetic is untrue and unconvincing.  It follows that Kant’s criticism fails to destroy the possibility of an ontological proof for God’s existence.  

Kant’s claim that the ontological argument also fails because existence is not a perfection fails because, as Charles Hartshorne pointed out, while ordinary contingent existence is not a perfection, necessary existence might well be.  Kant’s example of 100 thalers being the same in concept whether it exists or not, and not 101 thalers or 150 by existing, seems to make his point convincingly… and yet neither Anselm nor Descartes conceives of God’s existence being like the existence of other, contingent things.  A chocolate cake, a unicorn, a man or an island might be said to exist or not to exist, but only God can necessarily exist, so while existence might not alter the concept of cake, unicorn, man or island, necessary existence is of the essence of God as the supremely perfect being.  Charles Hartshorne suggested that Anselm’s ontological argument in Prosologion 3 might well evade Kant’s criticism that existence is not a perfection for this reason, nevertheless, Kant would reject this criticism of his point, rejecting the whole concept of necessary existence.  As he had already said, all existential statements must be synthetic, so necessary existence is, in Kant’s worldview, impossible.  JN Findlay noted this, suggesting that “it was indeed an ill day for Anselm when he hit upon his famous proof. For on that day he not only laid bare something that is of the essence of an adequate religious object, but also something that entails its necessary non-existence.” (Findlay, 1948) And that Anselm’s ontological argument in Proslogion III, by demonstrating how God’s contingent existence is impossible, shows that God’s existence is impossible because nothing can necessarily exist.  Yet, as I have already argued, Findlay and Kant are doing nothing more than asserting their own worldview, which excludes necessary existence not because it is inconceivable but because it is not compatible with their stated position which privileges things which can be experienced through the empirical senses. Further, as Hartshorne also pointed out, if it makes sense to talk about God’s necessary non-existence then it makes just as much sense to talk about God’s necessary existence. And, as Norman Malcolm pointed out, what is possible and impossible depends more on our language game than on what it might or might not refer to objectively.  It seems that in arguing that existence is not a perfection Kant got no further than Gaunilo had in refuting the ontological argument; again he just asserted that it was incompatible with his own limited worldview.  

Finally, Kant wrongly argued that existence is not a predicate.  By this Kant meant that existence cannot be accidentally predicated of God, because – as Anselm had pointed out – God’s existence is not something that might or might not be true of God.  Also, existence is wrongly used as an accidental predicate in relation to other things, because it adds nothing to the concept of the object (is not a perfection).  Rather, existence is the basis on which anything else can meaningfully be predicated.  As Russell pointed out, if I say “the present King of France is bald” I imply that there is a present King of France, which makes my predication of baldness meaningful.  If there is no present King of France, predicating anything of him is meaningless.  Similarly, if I say that God exists, I imply that there is a God who exists, smuggling my conclusion into my premises and in this way begging the question.  It follows that existence is not an accidental predicate and could not be used as one of God even if it were.  Further, existence cannot be essentially predicated of anything because… all existential statements must be synthetic. Here again, Kant reverts to asserting his worldview.  While He is right to point out that existence is not an accidental predicate because it is not a perfection, this is beside the point when it comes to the Ontological Argument, as Anselm pointed out in his Responsio to Gaunilo.  In this context, the question concerns whether existence is of the essence and nature of God, whether God necessarily exists.  As Hartshorne reasoned, necessary existence might well be predicated essentially of God, even if contingent existence cannot be used as an accidental predicate of anything.  For Hartshorne there are three alternatives for us to consider: 

i.God is impossible 

ii.God is possible, but may or may not exist 

iii.God exists necessarily. 

because God cannot be just a possibility, since he is by definition preeminent, so God’s existence is necessary.  Hartshorne’s modal ontological argument has been refined in different ways, including by Plantinga and Craig, but in essence – for those who share his worldview at least – it proves God’s necessary existence.  It seems that Kant’s criticism that existence is not a predicate fails to undermine the ontological argument either, at least beyond those who share his worldview.   

In conclusion, Kant’s criticisms of the Ontological Argument are persuasive if and only if you share his limited and dogmatic worldview.  Of course, many Philosophers did and do share this worldview – including Lotze, Schopenhauer, Russell and Findlay – and they will not accept the existence of other worldviews because it is part of their worldview to see their own perspective as the only truthful perspective on reality.  Nevertheless, for anybody who holds a different worldview – such as for St Anselm, Descartes, Hartshorne or Malcolm – Kant’s criticisms are ineffective and there is still the possibility of proving God’s existence a priori, from reason alone.  If ultimate reality is metaphysical and accessed through reason not empirical experience, and if existence is not defined in terms of being contingent existence, then the concept of God can de dicto necessarily contain His necessary existence despite His being incapable of empirical observation.  

Is there really a moral difference between killing somebody and letting somebody die? [40]

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The answer to this question seems obvious. Legally, there is a significant difference between killing someone and letting them die. Killing somebody by active means, depending on the circumstances, might be treated as murder, manslaughter or causing death by dangerous driving for example, all of which are subject to serious punishments. On the other hand, letting somebody die might attract no penalty at all, because this is what we all have to do at some point when medical options are unavailable or not in a person’s best interests. In the case of Airedale NHS Trust v. Bland, the House of Lords judgement “thou shall not kill, but thou needst not strive officiously to keep alive.” When it is in a patient’s best interests it can be the right thing to do to do nothing and let them die. Even where a doctor is negligent and allows somebody to die who might have been saved the penalty is much, much less than if they actively killed somebody – and usually covered by insurance. Nevertheless, despite the obvious answer, the question concerns the moral and not the legal difference between killing and letting die. The answer to this is more contentious. On the one hand traditional Christian Ethics and Kantian Ethics would agree with the law, that there is the world of difference between killing and letting die, but on the other hand, Utilitarianism and Situation Ethics as consequentialist approaches to decision-making would reject that distinction, arguing that the effects of both are the same so as actions they are morally equivalent. Nevertheless, the claim that killing and letting die are morally equivalent is not persuasive. Consider other examples whereby the same effects are achieved by different means. Is there a moral difference between actively lying to a friend or not telling them something that you might have? Is there a moral difference between making somebody homeless and failing to help a homeless person by housing them? Most people would see acts of omission (failing to do good) as less morally serious than acts of commission (i.e. actively doing wrong), so there is a moral difference between killing and letting die.

Firstly, the fact that there is a difference between killing and letting die is supported by the Bible, which distinguishes between things we do intentionally and accidentally and things done actively and passively. In the Old Testament the penalty for murder (intentional, active killing of a person) was death [Genesis 9:6], but nobody suggested that fellow citizens should be executed for failing to feed famine victims. The moral instruction to leave crops for the poor to glean existed of course [Leviticus 23:22], but there was no specific and individual penalty for ignoring it. While Prophets warned that the people would be punished collectively for ignoring the rights of the poor and vulnerable [e.g. Amos 2], suggesting that ignoring these rights is immoral and against the will of God, there can be no doubt that there is a moral difference between active, intentional killing (murder) and letting die, whether intentionally or otherwise. On the other hand, in the New Testament Jesus equated the intention with the action in his moral teaching. In Matthew 5 He taught that anger was morally equivalent to murder, a lustful look morally equivalent with adultery. By this logic, allowing somebody to die with malign intent would be the equivalent of murder, and yet this principle has rarely, if ever, been adopted by Christian ethics. Perhaps the key to this issue is what the word “morally” means. Because it is often impossible to know what motivated an action it is not possible to put a lot of weight on intentions in law or in formal Christian ethics. A person might even be unsure about their own motivations, so it is extremely difficult to assess these objectively. Nevertheless, Christians believe that God knows the inmost secrets of our hearts, being aware of motivations that we might not even be aware of ourselves [Psalm 139]. In this case, intentions might make all the difference to the moral status of an action in God’s eyes, while in the eyes of formal Christian ethics they cannot. Having said that, a Roman Catholic might argue that the Church has been given the authority to “bind and loose” Matthew 18:18, and this would suggest that the moral judgement of the Church – which cannot give much weight to intentions – still applies in heaven. This suggests that there is a moral difference between killing and letting die, whatever the situation or motivations, although that does not mean that letting die is always morally permissable.

Secondly, most versions of Natural Law (used alongside the Bible and Church teaching as the basis for Roman Catholic Ethics) teach that actions are more significant than intentions, which suggests that there is a moral difference between killing and letting die. For example, because of Natural Law Catholic ethics would see it as far worse to use artificial contraception or abortion than to remain celibate and so childless. Contraception and abortion actively prohibit a basic human good – life – while celibacy might be necessary in order to achieve another human good, as in the case of Priests. Morally, there is a real difference between doing something – often for an evil intention – and committing not to do it for a good intention. In Summa 2i, 20, 1 Aquinas explains that an action may be good when carried out with a good intention, but morally evil when carried out with an evil intention. He uses the example of giving alms – good when done out of agape-love and evil when done for vainglory. This implies that saving a life might be good when in the best interests of a patient, but morally evil when done for other reasons, in which case allowing to die might be morally preferable. The same reasoning might suggest that killing would be morally wrong when done with a malign intention and potentially right when done with a loving intention, yet Aquinas stops short of this conclusion. He reasons that while it is a duty to follow synderesis, even if it leads us to make such a faulty decision, this does not excuse us if we carry out actions which contradict conscientia, as killing a person always would because it actively prohibits the basic human good of life. It follows that the wrongness of killing is not dependent on motivations, and yet the situation does make some difference. Aquinas acknowledged the difference between not acting in cases where you can and should act and not acting when you can’t do anything or shouldn’t because of an order etc. He wrote “the cause of what follows from want of action is not always the agent as not acting; but only then when the agent can and ought to act.” [Summa 2i, 6, 3] This suggests that letting a relative die when you can’t help or have been ordered, such as by a court, not to would be morally very different from letting a patient die as a doctor when you could and are allowed to help. Further, in Summa 2i, 76, 3 Aquinas notes that ignorance might reduce the sinfulness of an action, because it makes some actions involuntary, when “voluntariness is essential to sin.” In this way, there would be a moral difference between a person whose synderesis led them to kill an elderly relative out of compassion and a person who intentionally killed an elderly relative in order to benefit from a will. Nevertheless, this interpretation would be strongly rejected by the Roman Catholic Church today, which teaches that any active euthanasia is the moral equivalent of murder, evil. In 2020 the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith has reaffirmed Roman Catholic teaching that euthanasia is an “intrinsically evil act”. The letter Samaritanus Bonus: On the care of persons in the critical and terminal phases of life described assisted dying and euthanasia as “homicide”, and said that the sacraments must be withheld from those who are planning to end their lives. This underlines the moral difference that the Church perceives between killing somebody – regardless of motivations – and letting die.

Thirdly, Kantian Ethics agrees that there is a moral difference between killing and letting die. For Kant, the maxim behind our actions is the action considered independently of any context and, if it cannot be universalised, it is absolutely and always wrong. In this way killing a hated enemy, killing an elderly relative to benefit from their will, killing a relative who is begging for an easeful death and suicide are all morally equivalent. Because the maxim cannot be universalised, killing is absolutely wrong. Despite this, Kant also taught that intentions are even more significant in determining the moral status of an action than the action in itself. Famously, he began the “Groundwork for the Metaphysics of Morals” (1785) by stating that “Nothing in the world—or out of it!—can possibly be conceived that could be called ‘good’ without qualification except a GOOD WILL.” If an action is undertaken out of fear or habit or for any other reason than freely, for duty’s sake, then this renders the action morally wrong, which pollutes the will and prevents it being worthy of the eternal reward which we must postulate as existing for good wills, so that they can do as they feel that they should and so that the universe is fair. Further, Kant taught that a negative duty i.e. not to kill, lie or steal always trumps a positive duty e.g. to feed the hungry. This suggests that there is a moral difference between killing and letting die; while in some circumstances both are immoral, killing (achieving the end by active means) is always worse. Nevertheless, Peter Singer would reject this conclusion, arguing that there is little moral difference between killing and letting die. In “Practical Ethics” he argued that there is no moral difference between aborting a near-term foetus because it has a disability and killing a newborn infant. In fact, he argued that it is morally preferable, even a moral duty, to kill a newborn who is suffering and who has no hope of a quality life so that money spent on neonatal care could be spent more productively elsewhere. In “Unsanctifying Human Life” Singer and Kuhse argue the same with regard to Euthanasia, suggesting that it is morally preferable to kill an elderly relative with dementia than to allow them to die – slowly and expensively – while others suffer for lack of healthcare resources. Further, in “The Life you can Save” Singer argued that neglecting an opportunity to help somebody and killing them are morally equivalent. He used the example of a child drowning in a pond, pointing out that we would feel a moral imperative to ruin expensive shoes in order to save them… and that we should equally feel a moral imperative to save a child on the other side of the world by sending the £200 our shoes cost to a charity. Through all these cases, Singer makes a fair point in pointing out that we are wrong to place so much weight on the moral difference between killing and letting die. It is helpful to consider that letting die might well cause more suffering and that killing should not be the taboo that it is to most people, when in practical terms it may be preferable. Singer is also right to point out how most people wrongly prefer people who are close to us and choose to ignore those who are further from us, whether in space or time, meaning that we tend to be thoughtless and ignore the moral imperative to use our money wisely and avoid decisions which – however unintentionally – harm others now or in the future. Nevertheless, however right Singer is to make a theoretical point as regards the equivalence of killing and letting die, in practice it is not reasonable to treat the two as moral equivalents, because the law deals in rules and generalities, not intentions and specific situations. Further, as Onora O’Neill has argued, we can’t agree that failing to help somebody in need – such as by giving money for famine relief – is morally the same as killing them. While both are morally bad, killing is worse because it is active and intentionally evil.

Despite this, most consequentialists will agree with Singer, arguing that there is no moral difference between killing and letting die, because the consequences, which justify an action or condemn it, could be the same either way. Take for example a case of assisted dying; the patient is dying, so the only factor that decides the morality of killing them or letting them die is the amount of pleasure or pain that results from the action, so far as the patient and other interested parties are concerned. As Bentham pointed out “all other things being equal, poetry is as good as pushpin” or, in other words, what you do to produce the results is immaterial; all that matters, morally, is the results. This means that there is no essential moral difference between killing and letting die such as would make one better than the other in all situations. It may be that letting someone die produces more suffering than killing them would, as in a case of a patient dying of motor-neurone disease who has asked to “die with dignity” and whose relatives and friends are all supportive. In other cases however, killing would undoubtedly cause more suffering than allowing to die, such as when the law allows passive euthanasia but not active. In such a case, killing might get a doctor struck off and even imprisoned, even when their intentions were altruistic and good. The case of Dr Cox and Lilian Boyes shows how this could be the case. While the situation makes all the difference in terms of the moral status of the action, Utilitarians such as Jeremy Bentham would reject the idea that intentions make any moral difference; as he argues “nature has placed mankind under two sovereign masters; the pursuit of pleasure and avoidance of pain” so we should “always act so as to produce the greatest happiness for the greatest number…” what we intend is not at issue, only what we achieve in respect of pleasure and pain in society. This highlights one of the problems with consequentialism – what Peter Singer has identified as the biggest problem that Utilitarianism faces – the Problem of Prediction. That is, consequentialism depends on our ability to calculate the pleasure and/or pain resulting from possible actions so that we can choose the one which is morally preferable in maximising pleasure and minimising pain, in advance of doing anything. In practice, our calculations are often flawed meaning that while we intend to minimise suffering, in the end we fail to do this. Because intentions don’t count and the only thing that justifies an action, morally, is the consequences the agent takes a risk every time they act, trusting that what they intend will happen and so ensure that they have done what is right. In a case of euthanasia, for example, the situation is further complicated by the difficulty of assessing someone else’s pain, whether in the person dying or in their relatives and friends. How can we measure grief or accurately determine whether it is outweighed by the suffering a person dying, say of cancer, experiences in their final hours? Bentham’s felicific calculus, while well meant, is of little practical use when it comes to making such assessments and only serves to highlight another significant criticism of consequentialist ethics, that they are subjective. Of course, rule utilitarianism, such as that proposed by Peter Singer in recent years, gets round both the problem of prediction and the subjectivity problem by developing rules on the basis of the utilitarian maxim, which are then applied in most or all cases regardless of the details. Yet, as RM Hare pointed out, rule utilitarianism means that there is little difference between a Utilitarian and say a Kantian approach. Also, in answer to this question, it would probably mean that there is a moral difference between killing and letting die because rules tend to be framed around actions, not omissions and because it is hard to imagine a rule prohibiting letting people die being practical in many cases!

In conclusion, there is a moral difference between killing and letting die because this is the case in law, in the Bible, in Natural Law and Kantian Ethics. As has been discussed, it is also true in Rule Utilitarianism, which is really the only practical version of Utilitarianism.

Critically assess the view that in Christian teaching, all people will be saved. [40]

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Mainstream Christian teaching explains that not everybody will be saved.  The Catechism of the Roman Catholic Church confirms, “The Last Judgment will reveal even to its furthest consequences the good each person has done or failed to do during his earthly life”.  It quotes the Parable of the Sheep and the Goats from Matthew Chapter 25, confirming that only the good will be saved and rewarded in heaven while the wicked will be sent to eternal punishment in hell.  Further, the Westminster Confession, accepted by most Protestant Christians, also confirms that “By the decree of God, for the manifestation of His glory, some men and angels are predestined unto everlasting life, and others foreordained to everlasting death” showing that it is not true that “in Christian teaching, all people will be saved.” While a few universalists and inclusivists might argue that in Christian teaching, all people will be saved, perhaps selectively quoting certain Bible passages – such as 1 John 2:2 which suggests that Jesus “is the propitiation for our sins, and not for ours only but also for the whole world…” – in practice this is a distortion of Christian teaching.

Firstly, mainstream Christian teaching is that only baptised Christians will be saved.  John 14:6 famously states “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me!” which strongly suggests that only Christians can be saved and go to heaven.  While Karl Rahner and John Hick might suggest that for all we know, God being omnipotent and omnibenevolent, might give what Rahner called “anonymous Christians” a second chance to accept Jesus and thus be saved through him after death, this is not a mainstream teaching.  In John 3:5 Jesus said “Except a man be born of water and of the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God…” which most Christians interpret to mean that Baptism is necessary for salvation.  Indeed, the Roman Catholic Catechism 1257 teaches that “the Lord himself affirms that Baptism is necessary for salvation…” and the Orthodox Churches teach that baptism is the means by which Christians receive the Holy Spirit, which is necessary for Salvation.  While Quakers, including John Hick later in his life, might argue that sacraments are unnecessary, because the outward signs of grace have no power in themselves and may serve to distract from the spiritual signs of salvation within, this is a minority view.  Most Protestants also teach that Baptism is necessary for salvation, being a sign of election.  The Westminster Confession confirms that “much less can men, not professing the Christian religion, be saved in any other way whatsoever…”  Further, some Christians might argue that unbaptised infants might be saved by the grace of God, so why not good people of other faiths.  Even the Roman Catholic Church, which had taught that unbaptised infants go to limbo, not heaven, changed this teaching in 2007.  Yet Roman Catholic teaching still suggests that “Baptism is necessary for salvation for those to whom the Gospel has been proclaimed and who have had the possibility of asking for this sacrament.” (Catechism 1257) and while it admits that God “himself is not bound by his sacraments…” and might decide to save unbaptised people, this possibility is not known to the Church and seems to conflict with Scripture.  For these reasons then, in Christian teaching not everybody will be saved.

Secondly, mainstream Christian teaching is that only good people will be saved and that the wicked will be punished eternally in hell.  Matthew 25 (the Parable of the Sheep and the Goats) makes it clear that at the Last Judgement God will divide people into the good (sheep) and the wicked (goats) and send them for eternal reward or punishment based on how they have treated “the least of these brothers of mine”.  Similarly, Luke 16 (the Parable of Dives and Lazarus) suggests that once we are in heaven or hell, based on our choices in this life towards the most vulnerable, then this fate is eternal and cannot be changed.  In John 13:34-35 Jesus states “A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” This suggests that being “in Jesus” and therefore saved depends on good works, which means that those who do not love others will not be saved.  Based on these scriptures, the Roman Catholic Catechism 1022 teaches that “at the evening of life, we shall be judged on our love…”  and 1033 states “we cannot love God if we sin gravely against him, against our neighbour or against ourselves: “He who does not love remains in death. Anyone who hates his brother is a murderer, and you know that no murderer has eternal life abiding in him.” [1 John 3:14-15] Nevertheless, mainstream Christian teaching also makes it clear that salvation does not depend on works.  Rather, we are saved by grace and God’s decision alone, which does not depend on anything we do or choose.  For Roman Catholics, “Grace is favour, the free and undeserved help that God gives us to respond to his call to become children of God, adoptive sons, partakers of the divine nature and of eternal life” so that being Baptised, taking the sacraments and living a good life are evidence that we have been saved by God’s grace.  Yet, for Protestants, it is possible that a person might be baptised and live an apparently good life and yet still not be saved.  The Westminster Confession explains that “others, not elected, although they may be called by the ministry of the Word, and may have some common operations of the Spirit, yet they never truly come to Christ, and therefore cannot be saved.”  God’s decision to save is one of grace and so independent of anything which we do, or how we might appear to others. John Calvin confirmed that “Therefore, as Paul testifies, election, which is the cause of good works, does not depend upon men.” Commentaries on Election and Predestination. In this way it might seem that it is possible that God saves all people by his grace, including those who are unbaptised and even those who live lives of sin.  Yet there are few Christians who would accept this, because the idea that Hitler and Stalin might end up in heaven alongside the Saints conflicts with Justice, which is one of God’s core attributes.  It follows, therefore, that it is wrong to say that “in Christian teaching, all people will be saved.”

On the other hand, some Christians argue that the existence of an eternal hell is incompatible with God’s goodness. Whatever sins we commit in this life are temporary, so an eternal punishment could not be proportionate, which is a core principle of justice.  If hell is not eternal, it would follow that in the end all people will be saved.  Roman Catholic teaching suggests that after we die, we can atone for sin through Purgatory, a temporary hell, before making progress towards paradise and eventually being released into heaven at the Last Judgement.  The Catechism 1030 stated that “All who die in God’s grace and friendship, but still imperfectly purified, are indeed assured of their eternal salvation; but after death they undergo purification, so as to achieve the holiness necessary to enter the joy of heaven.” Yet this still implies that some people – those who die outside God’s grace and friendship – do go to an eternal Hell.  This is also suggested by the Bible, in Matthew 25, Luke 16 and elsewhere.  Karl Barth and later John Hick both addressed this issue, asking how a just God could punish people for temporary sins – however bad – with an eternal punishment.  They came to similar solutions, that God offers all sinners a “way back” after they die, but that God’s gift of grace is freedom which extends to the ability to reject God’s grace and salvation a second time and choose eternal damnation for ourselves.  Despite this, the idea that all people will be saved eventually is not acceptable to all Christians, because it implies that we are saved by our own decision, not God’s.  Barth tried to get around this by saying that it is freedom which is the gift of grace, so when we choose to accept God’s salvation we are saved through grace.  He wrote “The command of God sets man free…” Church Dogmatics p.586 and “The determination of the elect consists in the fact that he allows himself to be loved by God” p.411  Yet for Augustine and Calvin this is unlikely to be acceptable, because it does seem to limit God’s omniscience.  If God gives us freedom as a gift of grace, allowing us to choose to accept the salvation which is offered to everybody or not, then it might suggest that God does not know whether we will accept or not.  It might be that God limits his own knowledge of who will be saved to facilitate his gift of grace, which is freedom.  Yet this implies that God is limited in power, having to choose between giving us freedom and knowing who will be saved. It might be that God does know who will accept salvation – and who will not accept – despite our freedom. Yet this seems close to Arminianism (and so not compatible with Lutheran or Calvinist Protestant Theology) because God’s knowledge of who would accept salvation and his gift of grace in freedom would be simultaneous in God’s timeless nature and God might be seen to choose who to save or not based on whether they will accept.  It follows that mainstream Christian teaching does not embrace the idea that God offers salvation to everybody and freedom as a gift of grace to either accept or reject that salvation.  In the end, some people will not be saved, and this will be by God’s decision alone, according to mainstream Christian teaching. 

In conclusion, it is not fair to say that “in Christian teaching, all people will be saved.”  While there are a few Christians who might like to think that, and while a few Bible quotes taken out of context might imply that, mainstream Christian teaching is united in its view that some people will not be saved.  This will probably include most non-Christians and serious sinners. 

Critically compare Aquinas’ and Wittgenstein’s approaches to defining meaning in religious language [40]

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On first sight, Aquinas and Wittgenstein offer diametrically opposed approaches to defining meaning in religious language. Aquinas argued for a cognitivist understanding of religious language, with claims such as “god is good” being meaningful because they refer to the goodness of God which is analogical to goodness in created things, both in the sense of proportion and attribution. Wittgenstein seemed to argue for a non-cognitivist approach to religious language, with claims such as “God is good” being meaningful only if they cohere with the rules of the language game being played within the form of life or context within which the statement is made. On this level, it is Wittgenstein who offers the more persuasive approach to defining meaning in religious language today. Nevertheless, as Herbert McCabe has pointed out, there is a common cause between Aquinas and Wittgenstein, and a greater degree of similarity between their approaches than is usually understood.

In the first place, Wittgenstein’s approach to religious language is more persuasive than that of Aquinas because he starts from where we are and provides an account of religious language which supports the meaningfulness of claims made by and within different religions which seem to be mutually exclusive. His approach does not depend on us having a belief in God, let alone the very particular concept of God which Aquinas assumes. For Aquinas, God is eternal in the sense of being outside time and space, meaning that all God’s attributes are simple and single and that the apparent difference between God’s goodness, power and knowledge is due to how we understand God from our limited, contingent perspective and not the result of any real division in God’s nature. When we say that “God is good” what we say is meaningful because the goodness of created things is analogical to the goodness of God. This is because “God is good” is consistent with the nature of God; being eternal God necessarily fulfils his nature and cannot fall short of it by any proportion, so contains no evil (privatio boni). Further, “God is good” is meaningful because the goodness of all created things depends on God, so the attribution of goodness in created things depends on the attribute of goodness in God, which is primary. Aquinas’ approach is more persuasive than straightforward univocal predication – such as when St Anselm, for all he accepts that God does not have a body, seems to assume that the meaning of terms like goodness mean pretty much the same when applied to God and to created things – because his approach affirms the “otherness” of God, which is consistent both with the Bible (Job 55) and with Natural Theology. Yet, Aquinas’ approach is rooted in a worldview which sees God’s existence as the creator and necessary sustainer as undeniable. For Aquinas, the fact that claims such as “God is good” mean any more than “God is fully God” or just “God is” depends on the being of God being understood to be primary, so that the being of other things can be understood to be secondary and take their attributes by attribution from His. Just as the meaningfulness of me saying “my yoghurt is healthy” depends on the primary existence of healthy people with whose lifestyles this yoghurt is conceivably consistent, so the meaningfulness of me saying “God is good” depends on the primary existence of God with whom my secondary concept of goodness – drawn from the partial goodness of contingent things – can have an analogical relationship. Aquinas himself admits that “because we do not know the essence of God, the proposition is not self-evident to us” Summa Theologica 1,2,1 and so rejects any attempt to prove God’s existence a priori, from reason alone, so his approach to religious language depends on the success of his Five Ways in demonstrating God’s existence a posteriori, from effects or observations. Yet Aquinas’ five ways have been widely criticized; his premises have been shown to be untrue so that they cannot support their conclusions – of a Prime Mover, Uncaused Causer, Necessary Being, Supreme Perfection and Intelligent Designer – let alone to their secondary conclusions, that “this is what everybody calls God.” While Aquinas’ failure to demonstrate the existence of God does not mean that God does not exist, or is not just as Aquinas reasoned He must be, Wittgenstein is surely right when he suggests that the meaning of words depends on how they are used and not on what they refer to; the meaning of words changes over time and differs by context. Given this and the impossibility of establishing the existence of let alone verifying the nature of a Godly point of reference for religious claims, the meaningfulness of a religious claim must depend on the context within which it is made. It follows that for those who inhabit Aquinas’ language game and believe in his God, his approach to religious language will be persuasive, but today it is Wittgenstein’s approach which offers the more persuasive account of the meaningfulness of religious language as a whole.

Secondly, Wittgenstein’s approach to religious language is more persuasive than Aquinas’ because it allows us to say many more things about God meaningfully. Aquinas’ analogical approach supports us in saying a very limited range of things about God, and suggests that the meaning communicated when we affirm that “God is good” or “God is omnipotent” or “God has supreme knowledge” is much, much less than most believers assume it to be. While Ian Ramsey was right to suggest that religious people use qualifiers such as “timeless” or “divine” to signify that their claims are religious, rely on models and so are “logically odd,” this practice is not so widespread as Ramsey suggests. Most believers – even within Aquinas’ Roman Catholic form of life – assume that God’s goodness is much more like our goodness than Aquinas’ doctrine of analogy would allow, so in practice they are speaking of God univocally, which cannot be meaningful given God’s timeless, wholly simple nature. By contrast, Wittgenstein’s approach to religious language supports believers and churches in making whatever claims cohere with the rules of the language game… that they contribute to setting up. Neither the game nor its rules are fixed and static, which suggests that religions can evolve and change over time and accommodate diversity within their ranks as well. This account of religious language is persuasive because it is more consistent with how religion is in the world today than Aquinas fixed, analogical approach. Within Roman Catholicism the claim “God is mother” is highly controversial and would be rejected by most mainstream believers, but that does not stop it being meaningful within some communities. Similarly, the claim that all Catholics have a duty to give the poor a “preferential option” is the life-force of base-communities in South America, while other communities to the north pay lip-service to the idea, if that. Wittgenstein’s approach to religious language is persuasive because it accounts for this diversity and the dynamics of religious meaning much better than Aquinas’ narrow, cerebral approach.

Nevertheless, as Herbert McCabe pointed out, there was common cause between Aquinas and Wittgenstein, which is often ignored. There is no evidence that Wittgenstein read Aquinas directly, but he had several prominent Catholic students, including Elizabeth Anscombe and Peter Geach, who arranged a Catholic funeral and burial for their teacher despite his never joining the Church. While the two lived 700 years apart and in very different contexts, there is in both Aquinas an in Wittgenstein a need to understand the very nature of language. There is also a concern to define the limits of language and not to say either what is untrue or not meaningful. Famously, Wittgenstein concluded his Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus (1921) by writing “what we cannot speak about, we must pass over in silence” suggesting that he had great sympathy for the apophatic approach to language. Ranjit Chatterjee in Wittgenstein and Judaism: A Triumph of Concealment (2005) argues that Wittgenstein must have read Maimonides’ “The Guide for the Perplexed,” not least because he used a number of phrases and metaphors also used by Maimonides. Wittgenstein clearly believed that there is an ultimate, metaphysical reality, but rejected the idea that we can speak about it meaningfully. He wrote “There is indeed the inexpressible. This shows itself; it is the mystical.” Tractatus 6:522 and “How the world is, is completely indifferent for what is higher. God does not reveal himself in the world.” Tractatus 6:4321 meaning that for Wittgenstein it is not possible to speak (meaningfully) about God, but that does not stop us from feeling God. He wrote “The feeling of the world as a limited whole is the mystical feeling.” 6:45 In this way, Aquinas was more positive about our ability to speak meaningfully about ultimate reality than Wittgenstein. Aquinas maintained that “we know God from creatures as their principle, and also by way of excellence and remotion. In this way therefore He can be named by us from creatures, yet not so that the name which signifies Him expresses the divine essence in itself.” Summa Theologica 1, 13, 1 And yet, Aquinas felt much sympathy for Maimonides position, which held that “The corporeal element in man is a large screen and partition that prevents him from perfectly perceiving abstract ideals… However great the exertion of our mind may be to comprehend the Divine Being or any of the ideals, we find a screen and partition between God and us.” Guide to the Perplexed Part 3, Book 9 and thus for what became Wittgenstein’s position. He wrote “Univocal predication is impossible between God and creatures.” Summa Theologica 1, 13, 5 and, while he maintained that the creative relationship between God and creatures supported his analogical approach to language, he was always cautious of taking claims about God too literally and forgetting the essential difference between what it means for us to be good and for God to be good. Yet, for Aquinas, the meaningfulness of religious claims depends ultimately on the belief that God is the cause of creatures, which means that God is not as remote as it otherwise might seem (Summa 1,13,2) As I have previously argued, Aquinas’ attempt to demonstrate God’s existence fails. Further, Aquinas’ religious experience towards the end of his life shows that he realized that himself in the end. It follows that Aquinas basis for believing that God is the cause of creatures is faith and not reason, so the meaningfulness of claims depends on faith and has no firm epistemological foundation. Other than that God is the cause of creatures, the meaningfulness of religious claims for Aquinas depends on how they cohere with points of doctrine and what else is known to be true. As Aaron B James pointed out in a 2009 article for Catalyst Magazine, Aquinas was a Theologian at least as much as he was a Philosopher. Similarly, for Wittgenstein, the meaning of religious claims depends on coherence, although that does not mean there is not an ultimate truth at stake. As he said, “let nature speak & acknowledge only one thing higher…” Culture and Value p3. He also said “If one thinks of God as the creator, must the conservation of the universe not be a miracle as great as creation – yes, aren’t the two one and the same? Public and Private Occasions p215 which suggests that Wittgenstein’s concept of God and Aquinas’ were similar. This is supported by William H Brenner in “Theology as Straw: An Essay on Wittgenstein and Aquinas” (New Blackfriars Vol. 93, No. 1046 (JULY 2012), pp. 412-425) In these ways, Aquinas and Wittgenstein are more similar than many would recognize, and yet this is partly because Aquinas’ attempt to root his approach to religious language in epistemological foundations failed, so in the end it is Wittgenstein’s approach to religious language which remains the more persuasive.

In conclusion, Wittgenstein’s approach to defining meaning in religious language is more persuasive than that of Aquinas, but it is worth looking beyond the superficial contrasts between their approaches to the essential similarities between their worldviews. While Aquinas and Wittgenstein were separated by 700 years, most of a continent, by religion and by culture, they both based their life on the existence of an metaphysical truth which we can only experience and can never know, at least within the limits of this life.