Science establishes facts; the arts create imaginary possibilities; theology speculates. Although this characterization might receive wide endorsement, highly creative and literary developments in contemporary science suggest otherwise. The intriguing gene's-eye view of life promoted by sociobiology, and especially in Richard Dawkins' ‘biography’ of the selfish gene, represents a highly literate and imaginative account of reality that not only shatters the science/arts stereotype but even suggests that ultimately science involves views of reality of theological proportions.

The French composer, Hector Berlioz, reacted as follows to the critics of his opera La Damnation de Faust: ‘I have already recounted how I … wrote the march on the Hungarian theme of Rákóczy in the course of one night. The passionate reception that this march received in Pest made me decide to include it in my Faust, and in doing so I took the liberty to use Hungary as the setting for the opening of the action, and had my hero, deep in reflection, see a Hungarian army passing across the plain. A German critic considered it most remarkable that I should portray Faust in such a manner. I do not see why I should not have done that, and I would, without hesitation, have let him travel to any place whatsoever if it had been to the benefit of the music I was writing. I had not set myself the task of blindly following Goethe's framework, and a character like Faust can be portrayed as making the most outlandish journeys without doing harm in anyway to the credibility of his person. When other German critics … attacked me even more strongly for the departures that my libretto made from the text and the structure of Goethe's Faust, … I wondered why these critics had not reproached me in any way for the libretto of my symphony, Roméo et Juliette, which only shows a slight resemblance to Shakespeare's immortal tragedy! Obviously because Shakespeare was not a German. Chauvinists! Fetishists! Imbeciles!

In the course of supporting his larger thesis about mysticism, Steven Katz argues that, ‘Every religious community and every mystical movement within each community has a “model” or “models” of the ideal practitioner of the religious life.' Among thirteen functions of such models he mentions three that partially overlap. He says that (i) these model lives set standards of perfection to measure believers' actions, (ii) they are perfect examples of what it is to be a human being, and (iii) they are moral paradigms. Katz mentions various saints, sages, and other exemplary figures, and sums up with the claim that in the Christian tradition the function of ‘ models’ is expressed in Thomas à Kempis' The Imitation of Christ. Taking all of this together, one could conclude that he intends to say that every religious tradition contains accounts of morally perfect persons who are examples to be imitated.

Few propositions are so widely affirmed among Christian theists as (1) God is wholly good. We say of God that he is wholly good when we mean to say that God never does evil. One proposed explanation for why God is wholly good, of course, is that (2) God is necessarily good. Although (1) is (I suspect, wholly) uncontroversial among Christian theists, (2) clearly does not enjoy such universal favour. Whereas such prominent theists as St Anselm, St Thomas Aquinas, Alvin Plantinga (1974), and T. V. Morris (1987) have defended the truth of (2), other theists claim to have found good reason to doubt God's necessary goodness. In this paper I will attempt to show that God's goodness is accidental to him. My argument will proceed faithfully along Anselmian lines, i.e. a key premise will concern God conceived of as ‘ the being than which none greater can be conceived’. In addition to this, I will need to activate action-theoretic machinery which will be crucial to the derivation. Rather than detracting from God's greatness, the argument's conclusion, namely (3) God is contingently good, is seen as faithfully articulating one facet of Anselm's core intuition of God as the ‘greatest possible being’. Is God necessarily good? I shall shortly present an argument which gives one good reason to doubt God's necessary goodness. But before I begin, I shall need to develop a backdrop of philosophical theology and action-theoretic machinery from which to suspend the argument in question.

What sorts of things are there in the world? Clearly enough, there are concrete, material things; but are there other things too, perhaps nonconcrete or non-material things? Some people believe that there are such things, which are often called abstract; purported examples of such objects include numbers, properties, possible but non-actual states of affairs, propositions, and sets. Following a long-standing (but somewhat misleading) tradition, I shall describe persons who believe that there are abstract objects as ‘platonists’. In this paper, I shall not directly address the plausibility of platonism, as compared with its rivals; instead, I shall confine my attention to one way in which some people have tried to combine platonism and theism. More specifically, I shall concentrate upon the claim that abstract objects depend upon God ontologically (hereafter just ‘DEP’); I shall argue that platonistic theists should reject DEP in favour of the claim that abstract objects exist independently of God (hereafter just ‘IND’). In order to evaluate the relative merits of DEP versus IND, it will be helpful to examine in some detail a particular articulation of DEP. When it comes to recent work on DEP, we can do no better in this regard than to examine the recent work of Thomas V. Morris and Christopher H. Menzel. According Morris and Menzel, there is a sense in which God literally creates such abstracta through engaging in intellective activities.

It is Alvin Plantinga's contention that a belief in the existence of God constitutes a rationally justified ‘basic belief’ for which evidence is neither required nor desired. This defiant proposal to jettison any evidential requirements for justifying one's theistic belief has led to a great deal of discussion, with some theists welcoming the possibility that evidence may no longer be necessary to justify one's convictions, and others finding themselves expressing a deep concern that such a move might border on a type of ‘noninitiates-be-damned’ withdrawal from academic discourse. Whatever the outcome of these initial reactions to his project, Plantinga has at least succeeded in ‘changing the subject’, to borrow a phrase from Richard Rorty, though it is most certainly not the sort of change of subject which Rorty himself would welcome - a renewed defence of religious rationality.

The Dalai Lama is fond of quoting a statement in which the Buddha is said to have asserted that no one should accept his word out of respect for the Buddha himself, but only after testing it, analysing it ‘ as a goldsmith analyses gold, through cutting, melting, scraping and rubbing it’. The Dalai Lama is often referred to as the temporal and spiritual leader of Tibet, but in truth as a spiritual figure His Holiness, while respected, indeed revered by almost all Tibetans, usually speaks from within the perspective of one particular tradition of Tibetan Buddhism, that of the dGe lugs (pronounced ‘Geluk’). Founded in the late fourteenth century by Tsong kha pa, the dGe lugs has always stressed the importance of reasoning, analytic rationality, on the spiritual path. This dGe lugs perspective is by no means shared by all Buddhists, at least not in the form it there takes. Nevertheless it does represent an important direction in Buddhist thinking on reasoning and the spiritual path which can be traced back in Indian Buddhism a very long way indeed, and it is in the light of dGe lugs thought that I want to contemplate two points which seem to be crucial in Raimundo Panikkar's approach to interreligious dialogue and understanding: first, that Reality, Being, transcends the intelligible, the range of consciousness, and second, that understanding this is the only basis for tolerance, not seeking in one way or another to overcome the other.

(I). In a number of papers I have sought to discuss and cast some doubt on a certain strategy of response to an argument that purports to show that God's foreknowledge is incompatible with human freedom. This argument proceeds from the alleged ‘fixity of the past’ to the conclusion that God's foreknowledge is incompatible with human freedom. William Lane Craig has (rather vigorously) criticized my approach to these issues. Here I should like to respond to some of Craig's claims. My goal is to attempt to achieve a clearer, more penetrating view of some of the issues pertaining to the relationship between God's foreknowledge and human freedom. The focus here will be on a strategy of response to the incompatibilist's argument which is associated with William of Ockham.

Have process philosophers understood what Christian theologians are trying to say? The process critique of the broad tradition of Christian theology is motivated, at least in part, by the belief that the God of the Church's traditional confession is too unreservedly transcendent; that is, that he is insufficiently related to his creation. In response, process philosophers have defended a ‘dipolar’ concept of God according to which God is fully transcendent in his ‘primordial nature’ and fully immanent (i.e. ‘surrelative’) in his ‘consequent nature’. The dipolar construction undoubtedly solves the ‘problem’, but the question remains whether there really is a problem to be solved in the first place. Many Christian theologians, after all, have understood their faith, as well as their attempts at the rational exploration of their faith, to depend upon the divine-human relationship constituted by God's own self-disclosure. They have further understood the meaning of the terms of their theological explication to be immanent to this same experiential context of divine-human encounter, within which relationship with God is the primary reality experienced. As a particular aspect of the controversy aroused by the process critique of Christian theology, therefore, the question arises whether process philosophers have taken adequate account of the manner in which Christian theology has been conditioned by this context of divine-human encounter. I have no pretensions within the scope of this brief essay to address this question in its full generality, either with respect to the multifarious theological positions which the process critique has engendered, or with respect to the wide range of difficulties involved in any attempt to understand the relation of the Creator to his creation.