Under an earlier post, Scott McKenna, who wants, as many of you will know, to continue using the conception of the sanctity of life, though not, he says, in an absolute sense, remarked as follows:
The Church of Scotland states that there are circumstances in which it is permissible to have an abortion, such as when the life of the mother is at risk. No absolute sanctity here.
The claim, I think, that there is no absolute sanctity here, is questionable. It is possible, in various ways, to work around the notion of absolute sanctity so as to produce justifications for acts in which a death occurs. This is what the Principle of Double Effect (PDE) is all about. Its purpose is to preserve the idea of sanctity while at the same time preventing the sanctity of life from producing counterintuitive consequences.
The PDE has its origin in Thomas Aquinas’ defence of killing in self-defence, which is worthwhile quoting in some detail. You can find it in his Summa Theologica, II-II, Question 64, Article 7: “Whether it is Lawful to Kill a Man in Self-defence?” In response to the objections to the claim that it is, Aquinas answers as follows:
I answer that Nothing hinders one act from having two effects, only one of which is intended, while the other is beside the intention. Now moral acts take their species according to what is intended, and not according to what is beside the intention, since this is accidental as explained above. Accordingly the act of self-defence may have two effects, one is the saving of one’s life, the other is the slaying of the aggressor. Therefore this act, since one’s intention is to save one’s own life, is not unlawful, seeing it is natural to everything to keep itself in being, as far as possible. And yet, though proceeding from a good intention, an act may be rendered unlawful, if it be out of proportion to the end. Wherefore if a man, in self-defence, uses more than necessary violence, it will be unlawful: whereas if he repel force with moderation his defence will be lawful, because according to the jurists, “it is lawful to repel force by force, provided one does not exceed the limits of a blameless defence.”
Now, it is clear, I think, that the PDE as thus understood can easily serve its turn in justifying abortion where the woman’s life is in danger. The Roman Catholic Church seems to be under the misapprehension that, if saving the mother involves the “direct” killing of the foetus, the PDE does not apply, as was argued in the case of the woman in Phoenix, when a nun was excommunicated on the strength of this misunderstanding of Aquinas’ argument.
However, it is not at all clear in Aquinas’ discussion of the PDE that such an act is forbidden. For Aquinas is clearly arguing that a single act can be both an act of killing and an act of self-defence, and that the intention of defending oneself is a sufficient basis upon which to argue that a killing is lawful, so long as the force used is not disproportionate. In the case of the abortion in Phoenix there is no reason, on Aquinas’ argumentation, that the abortion could be described as (i) the killing of a foetus, and (ii) the saving of the woman’s life, and the primary intention in aborting the foetus was to save the woman’s life, not to kill the foetus. That may not cut much ice with Roman Catholic theologians, but there is no obvious reason that the PDE could not justly have been applied to the situation in Phoenis. Therefore, in fact, Scott McKenna’s claim that the Church of Scotland’s recognition that abortion is justified when the woman’s life is in danger does not, in fact, undermine the absoluteness of the notion of the sanctity of life.
The limited point I am making here is simply that Scott has not provided a reason why the Church of Scotland should go on, based on its approval of abortion when the woman’s life is in danger, also to give support to assisted dying, which, I believe, they in fact do not do. But if they do not, there is no reason to suppose that their opposition to assisted dying is not based on the absolute sanctity of life doctrine. This, in general, I think, is the reason why assisted dying runs into greater difficulties than abortion with the churches, because, while abortion where the woman’s life is in danger seems able to be dealt with by the PDE, and seems, moreover, intuitively, to be, quite simply, morally justified, it is not in the same way clear that assisted dying can be dealt with in a similar way. It is true that the PDE is often used in end-of-life situations, where an act can be described in two different ways as both (i) relief from pain, and (ii) an act of killing; but, in general, more actively seeking death, when life has become intolerable, does not always fit into this neat schema, and it may be thought never to fit when the person involved is possibly far from death, as Tony Nicklinson was. He might have been kept alive for years, so the only way he could escape was by refusing food and antibiotics.
This is one of the reasons why I keep insisting that we stop the charade of speaking about assisted dying only in terms of the end of life. Lots of people suffer even more, and their suffering may be more intense and prolonged than that suffered by people at the end of life, and yet so few of those agencies supporting assisted dying at the end of life seem to care about them. This is based mainly upon religious considerations, even if this is not recognised, and it is high time that people supporting assisted dying got out of this religious mind-set, and recognised that the issue is about two things and two things only: intolerable suffering and choice. No other foundation for assisted dying is either reasonable or justified. Assigning decision to someone other than the person who is suffering intolerably, as Tony Nicklinson was, is placing the emphasis in the wrong place. This is about the rights of individuals, not about religious scruples.
Having come to this point, I think it would be a great pity if Margo MacDonald’s bill were passed by the Scottish parliament. Passing it would almost certainly mean that the Scots as well as others who might model their own legislation on this inadequate piece of legislation, will be hung up for another generation or two by the illegitimate power wielded by the religions, which should be being sedulously ignored, while emphasis is place where it should be, on all those who suffer intolerably in ways that only death can relieve.
If life is sacred – a gift from god – is it a gift freely given or are there strings attached? Does once given, my life belong to me or am I limited by what the giver wants me to do with the gift? If the former, then it would seem there can be no prohibition on suicide – I can get rid of the gift if I so choose. The problem always is, when it comes to god, in knowing what god wants. Scott claims that modern theology has settled on the motto “god is love” – this is the great work of 2 million years of human history and 2000 years of Christianity. Why one would claim that Scott cannot say – some analogy that parents love children and therefore god loves us too (takes me back to being 6 years old in Sunday School) – and how one would know that and why so many religious people don’t know that is never mentioned. If god really is the absent parent of modern theology, the one who set us up with a trust fund but maintains no physical contact, then it would seem that this god trusts us to do what is right and therefore it is our choice to make and only ours. Now if we can just convince the religious organizations that this true…..
Michael, you mock, belittle, misunderstand and caricature my argument: is this the best atheism can do? I offered what I feel is an intellectually sound argument; it is based on real-life experience and, as I said, ‘evidence’. It may not be your experience, but that does not invalidate what I have said. Maybe your respectful/playful intonation has been lost in the written word.
Eric, thank you for your post. I am not a Thomist scholar and am relying heavily on the work of John Haldane, the (Roman Catholic) Professor of Moral Philosophy at the University of St Andrews. In his book, ‘Reasonable Faith’, Haldane argues that Aquinas would not have accepted the Principle of Double Effect. He quotes John Paul II who in Veritatis Splendor discusses human acts which radically contradict the good of the person made in [God's] image. John Paul II writes, ‘These are acts which, in the Church’s moral tradition, have been termed “intrinsically evil”: they are such always and per se, in other words on account of their very object, and quite apart from the ulterior intentions of the one acting and the circumstances….examples of such acts [are] “Whatever is hostile to life itself, such as any kind of homicide, genocide, abortion, euthanasia and voluntary suicide…’ Haldane concludes by saying, ‘It is reasonable to conclude that had Aquinas addressed the issue of intentional abortion for the sake of saving the mother then his judgement on the matter would have been symmetrical, namely that evils are not to be done that goods may come from them, and therefore a man ought rather to let the mother perish than that he himself do so by committing the crime of homicide in killing the foetus.’ Haldane acknowledges that this maybe a hard teaching!!! My comment is that, at least for some in the Roman Catholic Church, absolute sanctity of life means absolute. The pope, following Aquinas, does not entertain the PDE. It is not a readily defensible moral argument. They have got themselves into a mess over this.
I do not support the PDE because it is Jesuitical; it is dishonest. It implies that one intention can be isolated from another. Doctors pretend not to know the outcome. While many people (and families) have benefited from PDE, it is not intellectually sound; it is a fudge. I hear what you are saying about the religious concept of sanctity of life and I respect your point of view, but I retain the concept because I argue that the concept, at least within the Church of Scotland, is not the absolute of Roman Catholicism. I also believe tradition evolves and theological thinking evolves. Evolution of thought is everywhere in church history, so I hope it will be here as well. By sanctity, I mean no more than respect for human life, its immense value and dignity and it is a gift from God. I am happy to redefine the term and say so. My approach is fairly pragmatic.
I note your point about limiting this discussion and legislation to the end of life. I agree whole-heartedly. Your point that a non-terminal sufferer may have to endure a longer period of intolerable suffering is correct. I shall press that point myself to Margo. Up to now, I have tended to allow political pragmatism to determine my thinking (hence going solely for terminal illness), but your point is well made. Thank you.
Thank you, Scott, for your response. I think the quotation that I provided from the Summa shows that Aquinas did, indeed, accept the PDE. I think he is probably wrong that intentions are separable in this easy way, but I do not think there is any doubt that that is what he thought, Haldane notwithstanding. And, of course, the RCC also admits reasoning according to the PDE, for its Declaration on Euthansia — let me see if I can find it — yes — here is a clear statement of the use of the PDE:
This is a clear application of the principle: “In this case … death is in no way intended or sought …” This is precisely the point that Aquinas is making, though he does not separate the intention and act in quite the same way. According to Pius XII (Pacelli), it seems as though it must be possible to make a “fudge,” as you put it, as though what is not intended will certainly not follow of necessity from the action. However, Aquinas does not say this. According to him, an act may be one of deliberate killing, and yet at the same time be describable in another way, in terms, in his example, of self-preservation. The only qualification is that the force used must be proportionate. But often, as police will tell you, it is necessary to shoot to kill, in order to protect either oneself or others, but from Aquinas’ description, this would not constitute a problem, so long as proportionality of response is preserved.
I do not want to criticise your point of view. Indeed, I admire it, for I was once in your shoes, and tried my best to be “pragmatic” about these things, believing, as you do, that theology evolves, and moral change is incorporated into moral theology. However, long experience in talking about gay and lesbian issues in the church led me to believe that this is not only slow, it is also subject, because of scripture, to reversal. But I did want to point out that the stand that the Church of Scotland takes on abortion, unless it includes the choice of the woman, still upholds the absolute sanctity of life, despite the possibility of fudging at the edges. Nevertheless, I admire the stand you are taking, and do not gainsay the importance of it. After Elizabeth died, in the only way she could, in exile, that was simply no longer an option for me. The other problem, of course, is the basis for moral theology. Unless it is equivalent to non-religious moral reasoning, I question the basis for theology’s moral claims.
I should add that I am pleased that you see the point I am making about terminality/non-terminality. It is one that is often either missed or ignored. Having the experience of my wife Elizabeth’s suffering over several years, I could not support a law which did not recognise this. My greatest fear is that such a law will be passed, and then, when people try, with good reason, to see the law expanded, the religious opponents will say, “See, told ya! We’re going to hell in a handcart.”
I guess, to answer Michael’s question, the difference between an ordinary gift from one person to another, and a gift given by the Ruler of the Universe, is that the latter can scarcely be rejected without also rejecting the giver of the gift. The same applies, though to a lesser degree, on the human scale, and we are very careful, if a relationship is important, not to spurn the gifts that are freely given.
This is a link to the Declaration on Euthanasia.
Scott, I am merely trying to understand what you mean by god and why you sense its presence. As Eric said earlier you continue to use metaphors for which the references are unclear – things like audible silence or divine dark. We use metaphors to conceptualize things, but there is an underlying completeness beneath. Darwin may have used a wedge to represent natural selection, but we have the observations, experiments and the theory to support that metaphor. We don’t have that with god.
If god is supposed to be love, then maybe I don’t understand the theological meaning of love. I realize that you are not a Biblical literalist – that you are working on personal experience and not just interpreting the supposed experiences with the divine reported by others. My experience is just so different; I grew up in church and witnessed individuals who appeared to have great faith or experienced transcendence. It just never happened to me. After I gave up on Christianity, I thought it might be possible to connect in other ways, but again nothing.
I am tired of people (you included) who insinuate that atheists have not tried hard enough to find god. It is just not true for everyone. Until theologians or philosophers of religion can explain how I can obtain knowledge of god that I can actually use to obtain knowledge, then I will remain unconvinced.
Michael, thank you for your very sincere and heartfelt comment. I did not mean to cause any hurt. Perhaps wrongly, I felt you were mocking my position. You said, ‘Scott claims that modern theology has settled on the motto “god is love” – this is the great work of 2 million years of human history and 2000 years of Christianity. Why one would claim that Scott cannot say – some analogy that parents love children and therefore god loves us too (takes me back to being 6 years old in Sunday School) – and how one would know that and why so many religious people don’t know that is never mentioned.’ I had taken a little time and some care in framing my comment and felt you reduced and ridiculed it to ‘the great work of 2 million years’ and that my view was no more sophisticated than a Sunday School lesson to a 6 year old. I apologise if I have hurt you.
Your point about personal experience is perhaps the single greatest obstacle between people of faith and atheism. You are right that my theology and the practice of my faith is rooted in my personal experience, otherwise the theology and weekly worship would make no sense. That experience I have no way of passing on to others directly or describing except by metaphor. I wish I could. I do entertain the possibility that there is no God and that my interpretation of my experience is wrong. My own experiences come from reading the New Testament as a late teenager, through dreams, as well as more recently through a course on Ignatian Spirituality or the writings from some of the mystics.
I feel you have shared so much. Words are now inadequate.
Eric, thank you for your post and the RC document on Euthanasia. I also appreciate your continuing kindness.
Scott, no need to apologize. I was trying to invoke something deeper from you about “god is love” – I wanted meat because the metaphors don’t work for me. I don’t find agency in the universe except for my fellow species here on earth – perhaps that is our fundamental difference. Keenan Malik has what I think is an <a href="interesting commentary on the theist/atheist divide. I would agree that I just don’t find god necessary.
Eric, I can see your point – it is a bit different if the gift is from the ruler of the universe, even if it claims to have given the gift freely. I have difficulty imagining what god might or might not do in any circumstance and therefore couldn’t say whether it would hold a grudge if I chose not to accept its gift.
Eric, I’m sorry that I don’t often comment on your posts about assisted dying; it’s because I agree with everything you say and have nothing to add. I don’t feel knowledgeable enough to comment on the meaning of ‘sanctity’ in this context but am reading with interest. However I wanted to send some long out of date thanks for the clarity of your thinking, especially with regard to individual wishes being paramount, not a court’s decision about which category of person is allowed to have help to die. Oddly this wasn’t perfectly clear to me before I found your blog, even though I usually think of assisted dying in the context of degenerative illness.
Scott, thank you for continuing to comment here, I have enjoyed your exchanges, especially your very interesting discussion with Eric about the Book of Job. I will go and read it again. It is indeed very difficult to overcome vast differences of personal experience, and I appreciate your response above to Michael. Another point is that there are many atheists who have had religious experiences before they moved away from religion, bringing yet another perspective. Personally, I was intensely religious as a child and young teenager; on several occasions I heard a Father’s voice calling my name (or, as I would put it now, I had an auditory halluciation), and I once deeply believed that I had felt the Holy Spirit enter my heart. So I do, from personal experience, have some understanding of what Christians mean when they speak of ‘sensing God’, and I’m sorry if I’ve seemed to mock that at any point.
In the end I put aside those feelings, partly because the budding scientist’s voice at the back of my head kept saying “How could I tell this from imagination?” which I couldn’t, and partly because my revelatory feelings about God’s nature changed as I changed myself (I grew liberal and God stopped being authoritarian), so my brain didn’t seem to be a reliable instrument. And I learnt more generally about the diversity of people’s revelatory experience. These days, like Michael, I would say that I don’t find god necessary, and I’m very happy that way – but nevertheless, I acknowledge that people’s ‘sense of God’ is heartfelt and sincere, and difficult to describe other than in metaphorical language.
I seem to have botched the link to Kenan Malik’s post.
It is here: http://kenanmalik.wordpress.com/2012/02/06/who-needs-god/
In order to mock, belittle or caricature any argument I think one must have a good understanding of it.
The art of caricature exaggerates certain characteristics to produce a comic or grotesque effect, but those characteristics must have been there to begin with.
And really, with your arguments, such as they are, not a lot of exaggeration is needed to make the grotesqueness of your position evident.
The comedy I’m sure is unintentional.
You use feelings and dreams as evidence and hopes and desires as proof.
Is this the best that religion can do ?
The Malik article is good on the infuriating First Cause argument. The thing that makes it infuriating is that the atheist side says “We don’t know,” and this tends to be treated as a victory for the other side that thinks it does know. However I think the problem is more often that believing First Cause arguers just don’t see how incongruous – usually incongruously humanoid – their solution is, rather than that they can’t live with uncertainty (shades of Feynman in there). As a friend puts it, if you find it extraordinary that the human brain can exist, how can you think it solves anything to attribute it to a vastly greater intelligence that existed prior to the human brain? Rowan Williams I think would answer the question by saying that God is ‘simple’ (from his debate with Dawkins and Kenny in Oxford last spring) but I can’t work out if he’s thought through what he means by that – clearly in a information theory sense it’s absurd – I think he just means that no God-concept is susceptible to any scientific or logical or philosophical inference at all, which in the end must come to the same thing as saying “We don’t know.” But I don’t get the impression that he has to have a god in order to have certainty, just that he has a god because he doesn’t routinely separate reality-based and metaphorical language. The widespread capacity to do this is a very interesting phenomenon in its own right.
Isabel @ #11
I echo your comments. I’ll go further and argue that some peoples’ desire for order, purpose, and meaning (or their fear of having none) is so strong that they will be primed to interpret any unusual experience as evidence for the existence of the supernatural. The supernatural becomes a palisade around them protecting them from the area of ‘no order, no purpose, no meaning, don’t know’ outside. The palisade shelters them.
Of course other people see the supernatural fence not as a palisade but a cage.
Now I have not interpreted my elevated experiences as numinous or ethereal or sacred, so although I acknowledge the personal experiences of religious people I don’t see those experiences as having any authority beyond the individual.
Forgive me if I am bit remedial, but this is the first I have heard of the PDE.
The PDE seems largely an exercise in “ends justify the means” rationalization, or at least it seems very prone to that kind of abuse. For example: having the intention for the effect of (i) giving gifts to my family cannot really override the effect of (ii) stealing. I have been under the impression that having absolute rules is largely an attempt to end such kind of rationalization.
I suspect I am missing something crucial here, in that I do not quite follow how the conclusion in the 3rd paragraph is reached:
If the sanctity of life can be rationalized away with such use of the PDE, it seems that its absoluteness has been very egregiously undermined. Making such a rule absolute in the first place is an effort to make it immune from being overridden, is it not? Is this not the entire problem with making the respect for life sacred, that it cannot be violated even at great cost for even futile gains?
I realize from reading the comments that you are not really a supporter of the PDE as a valid tool, Eric. Do not feel the need to defend it. I would appreciate clarification of your argument, as it seems unsound to me, but clarify only at your pleasure. I do not feel entitled to extra attention.
Kevin, no I do not feel the need to defend the PDE. Indeed, it seems to me that the principle is incoherent. However, it is widely thought to permit absolute rules to escape the charge of being inhuman. For example, the woman in Phoenix who, it is said by the bishops, should not have been given an abortion, even though she would have died, could, by Aquinas’ description of the PDE, have justifiably been given one. And there is, after all, some justification for the PDE. We do, generally, think that killing innocent people is wrong, but allow it in cases of self-defence. What justifies killing an innocent person in self-defence — e.g. a psychotic person on a rampage, or a person with a brain tumour, who are not responsible in the ordinary sense, for their actions — is that the act is not simply an act of killing. It is an act of self-defence and self-preservation. So, while the PDE can often look like a fudge, there seems to be some support for it intuitively. So, when the Church of Scotland says that they think it right that women whose lives are in danger from a continued pregnancy should be given the option of an abortion, this might well come under the PDE, thus preserving the absoluteness of the rule that innocent life should not be taken. At least this has been the view of natural law moral theory. My point was simply that Scott McKenna’s claim that there is no absoluteness here could in fact be countered by a PDE claim, which, of course, some people take seriously. So, though for Scott there may be no absoluteness here, it may be there for those who in fact allowed this exception in the first place. So the Church of Scotland may very well have thought that it was preserving the absoluteness about the rule forbidding the taking of innocent life. That was my point. I hope that is a bit clearer now.
Isabel, I have always had trouble understanding the concept of the divine simplicity, though it is a widespread view in the literature. It is a very complex idea which roughly boils down, I think, to this. There is no matter form composition in God, and God’s attributes are in some sense identical to each other, so, in this sense, though there is an intellectual complexity in the account that we give of God, God’s attributes of love, power, compassion, omniscience, etc. are identical to each other. Hence God is simple. This has a lot to do with the logic of infinity, I think, in that God is not conceived of as limited in any way, and infinites are, somehow, self-identical. In other words, the usual copula ‘is’ does not apply to God’s attributes. God is not omniscient because he has the character of omniscience, God simply is omniscience itself. And so on. There is an article on Divine Simplicity, I believe, in the online Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. I have not read it, but it would be interesting to know how close I come to the explanation there. It has always seemed to me to be a bit of sharp practice, something like the PDE.
Ah, thank you. I would have to ask the Church of Scotland what absoluteness means if it does not mean an absolute value takes precedence over all others. The idea that an absolute value could take a back seat to another value seems like a contradiction. The ability of religion to hold contradicting views is hardly a new development, though.
I suppose PDE at least recognizes the need to consider all the effects of our actions in a moral sense, which I think is only prudent. It is at least a great step ahead of the reckless proceduralism the RCC seems to tout. Other than that, PDE only seems to recognize that moral dilemmas actually exist, and does nothing to resolve them.
Eric, You seem to hit most of the highlights of divine simplicity from SEP. I can’t help but think that this is mostly a word game – substituting god is good with god is goodness so that good is not a property of god, but god’s essence. Bill Vallicella aka maverick philosopher writes the article and he spends much time discussing tropes, something I was unaware of in philosophy, which left me unconvinced. To essentially claim that god is the universe doesn’t seem to solve anything.
Pantheism is a way to account for a god that does not intervene in human affairs. A god who is the universe is limited by the universal laws of physics. And therefore, commits no miracles. Why should it? Everything is happening in exactly the way this “entity” (for lack of a coherent expression) would have it happen.
It solves the problem of evil. Because it is evil. And good. And tedium. And everything else.
Which leads one to ask, what’s the difference between a pantheistic world and an atheistic world? … Two letters. That’s it. Everything happens exactly as it would if there were no god at all.
But, of course, this kind of god doesn’t give one hoot about a woman’s internal organs. Nor about a man’s sperm. Nor whether any individual life is long, short, medium-length, privileged and full of joy, or brutish and mean. It cares not whether you’re aborted at 3 months, killed by your mother in your crib, or get run over by a bus at age 26. Nor whether you should be able to decide to terminate your existence if your very existence becomes too painful to bear (physically or otherwise).
To claim that a “ground of all being” kind of deity wants humans to live the maximum amount of time scientifically possible using all possible means to extend the life to as long as possible is absolutely incoherent and contradictory. It makes no sense whatsoever. It’s like a black-white. It also cannot be used to claim any special privilege for human life — sanctity, sacredness. Because no matter what, all of the atoms within and without are god. So, the transitory coalescence of the atoms into an individual human is ultimately meaningless.
So, the proposer of such a creation will always and ever try to shoehorn in a “caring” part of this entity that is somehow apart from itself as the universe. And then shoehorn in substance dualism, which creates “the soul”. Which, for unexplained reasons, needs to bake as long as medically and scientifically possible in its soul-sac (ie, human body) before being returned to its “creator”. Even though each and every aborted baby goes directly to heaven with no consequences. And every child murdered, or killed by disease or famine. Straight to “paradise”. But not the sick and old — oh no. Those people can’t possibly decide of their own “free will” to end unbearable suffering. That’s not in “the plan”. Because — well — there is no reason. Just because someone else says so.
Mush and nonsense. All of it.
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I started writing a comment on this subject, but it wound up being a whole separate argument of its own. Which, if anyone is interested, can be found here:
http://thephilosophicalprimate.wordpress.com/2012/11/29/lifes-real-value/
Kevin, nicely argued.
Isabel and DJ – Please check out the link I’ve given in comment #3 to “The Great War and Modern Memory” for some insight into personal spiritual experiences.
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Well said Kevin. However, one small point, a black-white would be a mulatto.
Michael: “Until theologians or philosophers of religion can explain how I can obtain knowledge of god that I can actually use to obtain knowledge, then I will remain unconvinced.”
I once was a believer and a student of theology but never a practicing theologian. But perhaps this will help explain how you can obtain knowledge of God; but I doubt it will be so sufficient an explanation as to halt you remaining unconvinced.
The “knowledge of God” is, and only can be, “instilled” by other believers, primarily through words and visuals. By teaching, preaching, reading and observations these believer mentors shape a student’s conceptual framework by “attributing” specific status, ideas, rules, morals, acts and phenomena to “God”. Mentors “teach” the student to reserve a mental place of authority and emotion for, and behavior to, this “instilled God”. And then they fill and help the student fill up this mental God space to be as internally consistent as the student has capacity and desire. This mental God space at maturity becomes “belief in God” consisting of areas of life where this ever evolving and growing mental God authority must operate. Mental God is now at the new believer’s command and he can attribute any of his own thoughts, decisions, interactions, etc to this fully instilled God thereby “making experiences” with his God that become fully real and self contained. When the new believer is sufficiently a finished product and has learned the formula from others’ testimonies, he can then interpret these internal experiences to a compatible (no snake handlers at Mass) external audience and have them confirmed in order to begin the process of making his Mind God as externally consistent as necessary . And voila: knowledge of God. I suspect this is the only God anyone with full mental faculties has ever encountered and described. I hope you are not sorry that you were immune to this “knowledge of God”. And you wonder why metaphors are the only thing that can be used for description? Believers had better not admit the truth their minds know, if they can still access that truth.
Eric #14, thank you for the SEP reference, it did somewhat help me understand what Rowan Williams was getting at but I need to think further. My trying to interpret Rowan Williams may be as futile as Dawkins trying to debate with him, but it’s good to have a few clues…
Haggis #19, your description of the link you put up sounds fairly terrifying! I’ll brace myself and watch the video as soon as I’ve got a good connection.
David, Thank you for your comment and, yes, I remain unconvinced.
David # 20:
Sounds scary! Glad you escaped the mind virus. AKA indoctrination/cult practices.