Dr Ian Ramsey has made considerable use of the word ‘disclosure’ in what he has to say about religion and in his attempts to give an account of the meaning of religious language. He sometimes (e.g. in Religious Language) speaks of ‘discernment’ or ‘insight’ but ‘disclosure’ is the word he normally favours. In what follows I shall ask: what a disclosure is, to what extent Dr Ramsey's use of the notion leads to confusions, and what questions have to be faced in order to resolve these confusions.

Expressions used in religious contexts have often seemed odd and paradoxical to philosophers. Statements have appeared in Christian discourse to the effect that God is not a person and yet is a person, that he is a servant and a king, that he is nothingness and being itself. These statements appear unintelligible either because their terms are self-contradictory or because they are mutually exclusive.

What I shall call ‘the ordinary Christian view of life after death’, namely, the belief that after persons die, their souls go to some kind of spiritual abode (‘Heaven’, ‘Hell’ or ‘Purgatory’, depending on God's Judgement), has come in for a great deal of criticism in recent years. Opponents of the belief have been encouraged by the lack of evidence from the countless areas of scientific research and by the large numbers of philosophers (even Christian philosophers) who claim that a proper understanding of personal identity precludes any sort of hope of existence in a non-physical body.

In The Historian and the Believer Van Harvey advances the opinion that belief in the resurrection of Jesus is not necessary for radical faith in God. He supports this idea by trying to establish two things: that radical faith has no clear relation to any remote historical event, and that the idea of a resurrection of Jesus is either incredible (if it is supposed to be an historical event) or meaningless (if it is supposed to be an event that transcends history). I want to argue that these last two contentions are false, and that in certain quite ordinary circumstances—such as one's believing that Jesus was the decisive revelation of God's grace—belief in the resurrection of Jesus is necessary for radical faith in God, unless the concept of God is altered substantially.

In his recent book, Survival and Disembodied Existence Terence Penelhum presents a convincing case against the belief in disembodied personal survival. His formidable attack constitutes, I think, one of the strongest cases that has yet been made out against such a belief. I am in substantial agreement with his position.

One would be hard pressed to deny the ordinary man's trust in the moral deliverances of his conscience. Joseph Butler put the case for the infallibility of conscience, when he remarked: ‘Had it strength, as it had right; had it power, as it had manifest authority; it would absolutely govern the world’ (Fifteen Sermons, ii, 13, 14). I think it obvious, in retrospect, that Butler underestimated its ‘strength’ and ‘power’, while overextending its ‘right’ and ‘authority’. Perhaps it is too rash a claim to maintain that conscience serves as an inadequate guide in our moral deliberations, but, to be sure, it can hardly be defended as a sufficient guide to moral conduct.

‘In the world today there are three religions: Buddhism, Confucianism and Shinto. Some think they represent the three different countries, India, China and Japan; while others consider them essentially one, or else dispute with one another over the truth or falsity of each. However, the way which may be called the Way of all ways is different from these, and what each of these three teachings calls the Way is not in accord with the Way of Truth. The reason is that Buddhism is the Way of India, and Confucianism is the Way of China. Because they are peculiar to these countries they are not the Way of Japan. Shinto is the Way of Japan, but because of the difference in time, it is not the Way for the present generation. Some may think that the Way is always the Way despite differences in nationality and differences in time; but the Way is called the Way because of its practicality, and a Way which is not practical is not the true Way. Thus, the Way as taught by the three teachings mentioned above is not a Way practicable in present-day Japan’.

The major religions are committed to incompatible world-views. Are there criteria available on the basis of which we can rationally decide among these sets of religious beliefs? Ninian Smart in Reasons and Faiths assumes that there is no a priori reason to suppose that such criteria are not possible or unavailable, and sets out a procedure for the justification of religious beliefs which primarily, though not exclusively, depends upon an appeal to religious experience. In this paper I wish to appraise the results of applying his criteria to different sets of religious beliefs and, in addition, I wish to appraise these criteria.

Paul Gastwirth seems to me generally correct concerning our concepts of God (Religious Studies, Vol. 8, No. 2, June 1972, pp. 147–52). But there are at least two points at which he needs to take his analysis further if he is to help us to think through the topic. In the first place, he must do more than invoke the Wittgensteinian image of family resemblances if he is to exorcise the quest for defining characteristics. And, in the second place, he needs to consider in some detail the use of ‘God’ as a name.