John Rawls’s argument for egalitarianism famously depends on his rejection of desert. In The Theology of Liberalism, Eric Nelson contends that Rawls’s treatment of desert depends on anti-Pelagian commitments he first endorsed in his undergraduate thesis and tacitly continued to hold. He also contends that a broad range of liberal arguments for economic egalitarianism fail because they rest on an incoherent conception of human agency. The failure becomes evident, Nelson says, when we see that proponents of those arguments unknow­ingly assume the anti-Pelagianism on which Rawls relied. Nelson concludes that egalitarianism must be given a different political and theoretic basis than Rawls and his followers have provided. I argue that Nelson misreads Rawls and that egalitarians can avoid inconsistency without staking a theological claim they want to avoid.

Patrick Grim advances arguments meant to show that the doctrine of divine omniscience—the classical doctrine according to which God knows all truths—is false. We here focus on two such arguments: the set theoretic argument and the semantic argument. These arguments due to Grim run parallel to, respectively, familiar paradoxes in set theory and naive truth theory. It is beyond the purview of this article to adjudicate whether or not these are successful arguments against the classical doctrine of omniscience. What we are here interested in is a way in which these arguments can be generalized. In particular, we show how generalizations of these arguments can target, explicitly, alternatives to the classical doctrine of omniscience, including what we here call restricted omniscience and open future open theism. As a corollary, considerations of Grim-style arguments do not support these alternatives to the classical doctrine of omniscience over the classical doctrine. We conclude that what is paradoxical is not the classical doctrine of omniscience just as such; rather, what is paradoxical is a core commitment shared by the classical doctrine and its more modest alternatives, namely, the thesis that God is a perfectly logical reasoner.

Defenders of the Kalām Cosmological Argument appeal to the so-called Hilbert’s Hotel Argument to establish the finitude of the past based on the impossibility of actual infinites. Some of their opponents argue that this proves too much because if the universe cannot be beginningless due to the impossibility of actual infinites, then, for the same reason, it cannot be endless either. Discussing four different senses of the existence of an actual infinite, I criticize both sides of the debate by showing, on the one hand, that the Hilbert’s Hotel Argument is not powerful enough to rule out the possibility of the infinitude of the past and, on the other hand, that the soundness of the argument for the finitude of the past from the impossibility of actual infinites does not establish the soundness of the parallel argument for the finitude of the future.

In recent work, W. Matthews Grant challenges the common assumption that if humans have libertarian free will, and the moral responsibility it affords, then it is impossible for God to cause what humans freely do. He does this by offering a “non-competitivist” model that he calls the “Dual Sources” account of divine and human causation. Although we find Grant’s Dual Sources model to be the most compelling of models on offer for non-competitivism, we argue that it fails to circumvent a theological version of Peter van Inwagen’s direct argument for incompatibilism. In the paper, we motivate and deploy a theological take on the direct argument, and we contend that this theological rendition of the direct argument effectively dismantles Grant’s Dual Sources account of non-competitivism.

Sometimes, I can affect whether an individual is created, but not how their life goes if they’re created. If their life will be bad enough, I apparently wrong them by allowing their creation. But sometimes, popular religious views imply that the created individual is guaranteed to have an infinitely good existence on balance. Since, I argue, I don’t wrong someone by allowing their creation when it’s infinitely good for them on balance, these views apparently have unacceptable implications for procreation ethics. After surveying various responses, I tentatively suggest that the best solution may involve adopting an unusual metaphysics of procreation.

In a 2014 paper in this journal, I put forward two objections to a version of divine simplicity I call “Divine Truthmaker Simplicity.” James Beebe and Timothy Pawl have come to Divine Truthmaker Simplicity’s defense. In this paper, I respond to Beebe and Pawl, consider an overlooked way of defending Divine Truthmaker Simplicity, and conclude by outlining an alternative account of God’s simplicity.

This paper considers two objections which can be levelled against Leibniz’s account of divine love. The first is that he cannot allow that divine love is gracious because he is committed to the view that love is properly proportioned to the perfection perceived in the beloved; the second is that God is cruel to those who are damned and so cannot be said to love all. I argue that Leibniz has the resources to rebut—or at least blunt—each of these objections.

According to Michael Almeida, reflections on free will and possibility can be used to show that the existence of an Anselmian God is compatible with the existence of evil. These arguments depend on the assumption that an agent can be free with respect to an action only if it is possible that that agent performs that action. Although this principle enjoys some intuitive support, I argue that Anselmianism undermines these intuitions by introducing impossible options. If Anselmianism is true, I argue, then both God and creatures may be free to do the impossible.

Should we understand our lives as stories? Narrativism answers Yes, a view that has recently been the subject of vigorous debate. But what should Christian philosophers make of narrativism? In this essay, I argue that, in fact, narrativism is a commitment of Christian teaching. I argue that there are practices which Christians have decisive reasons to engage in, which require us to see our lives as narratives, practices such as confession and thanksgiving.