In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Go's Command by John HareJoshua T. MauldinGod's Command John Hare OXFORD: OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS, 2015. 368 pp. $110.00Divine command theory has received a significant amount of high-powered philosophical attention in recent years, notably in works by C. Stephen Evans, Robert Adams, and Philip Quinn. John Hare's book God's Command joins this [End Page 197] discussion and advances it by attending not only to the Christian tradition but also (...) to Judaism and Islam, and by engaging with evolutionary psychology. Central to Hare's account of divine command theory is the claim that human nature is a "mixture," characterized by the dual affections for advantage and for justice. Against theories that assume a single-source account of motivation (e.g., eudaimonism), Hare contends that human beings experience the pull of competing motivations, toward morality and self-interest. Any adequate moral theory will account for both motivations and indicate how they can be reconciled. Hare contends that his version of divine command theory is up to this task.It is on this point that Hare most clearly adheres to his claim at the beginning and the end of God's Command that the book "defends the thesis that what makes something morally obligatory is that God commands it, and what makes something morally wrong is that God commands us not to do it" (1). Elsewhere in the book, this kind of philosophical defense recedes. After an initial chapter describing divine command theory in general, and two chapters on eudaimonism and naturalistic deductivism, Hare provides three chapters illustrating how divine command theory is worked out by representative thinkers in the traditions of Christianity, Islam, and Judaism, followed by a chapter on how divine command theory can accommodate the findings of evolutionary psychology. The book ends with a summary, showing how the various pieces of the book, which at times read like a series of independent essays, constitute a single picture. In these latter chapters, Hare seems to leave behind the philosophical defense of divine command theory, turning instead toward a discussion of what kind of divine command theory theists should adopt, given their predetermined commitment to theism and divine command theory in general.In one sense, this shift can be understood in terms of audience. Initially, Hare addresses anyone interested in ethics. By the second half of the book, Hare has shifted to convincing theistic ethicists that the best way to hold together their various commitments is to adopt a divine command theory, as opposed to other options such as Eudaimonism. This shift arises as an attempt to fend off a potential criticism of divine command theory—the possibility that people will do terrible things in the name of God's command. Hare suggests that Kant provides one solution to this problem, which is that if we think God is commanding us to do something that is at odds with practical reason, we ought to doubt that God is really commanding us to do this thing. Hare is sympathetic to Kant here, but he also seems to think that Kant's solution would undermine his own project, insofar as it makes God's command appear superfluous. Hare's alternative approach involves acknowledging that religious traditions possess safeguards to protect against the possibility that appeal to a divine command is used to justify horrendous evils. For Hare, the Abrahamic traditions provide historical evidence that the benefits of divine command ethics can be enjoyed without accepting the apparently bad aspects. [End Page 198]Hare himself notes that there is a kind of circularity here. He has made the point as a kind of hypothetical: If you already believe in God as the divine commander, and adhere to one of the Abrahamic traditions, you will possess resources to overcome this problem. As he admits at the end of chapter 5, he has not addressed the question of why someone who does not already believe in God as the source of morality ought to begin to do so. Nevertheless, the question of whether thinkers within religious traditions have provided compelling answers to the epistemological problems at the center of divine command theory will be of interest to... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Secular Government, Religious People by Ira C. Lupu and Robert W. TuttleJoshua T. MauldinSecular Government, Religious People Ira C. Lupu and Robert W. Tuttle grand rapids, mi: eerdmans, 2014. 279 pp. $25.00.In Secular Government, Religious People, Ira C. Lupu and Robert W. Tuttle provide a structuralist account of the Establishment Clause and suggest that their conception of the secular character of government resonates with the dominant strand of (...) First Amendment jurisprudence. On their view, the religion clauses are not only about the religious rights of persons; the Establishment Clause is primarily about the character of government itself. That character is secular, meaning that the government is “constitutionally disabled” from settling “ecclesiastical questions.” These include not only obviously theological questions about the nature of God or true religion but also seemingly more mundane matters such as “Who is fit to be a minister?” or “Which faction of a fractured religious congregation is closer to the beliefs of the congregation’s charter members?”The problem with judicial attempts to engage such questions became increasingly evident in the development of legal doctrine throughout the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, and one of the primary values of this book is its clear account of this history. One example is the “iconic” Supreme Court decision in the 1971 case of Lemon v. Kurtzman, which included an important rule against “excessive entanglement” between the state and religious groups, based on the Establishment Clause. For Lupu and Tuttle, this ruling is paradigmatic of their structuralist argument for nonestablishment. If the Establishment Clause requires that government be secular, then the government may not claim divine authority or establish a covenant with God or engage in acts of worship. The government may, nevertheless, acknowledge the religious character of its people; the religious freedom of the people is protected by the secular character of government in that a sphere of society is reserved for religious practice and thereby protected from governmental intrusion. While religious persons might actually prefer that government “interfere” in the religious sphere for various reasons, and might even view the government’s failure to do so as an assault on religious freedom, it is precisely the noninterference of government in religious matters that protects religious freedom.The book involves both a descriptive analysis of the development of American law and a normative argument for a particular legal philosophy. Tuttle and Lupu argue that it is best when government is secular, and they suggest that this is a basic assumption of mainstream American law, both in its origins and later [End Page 213] trajectory. Some will question the sharp distinction drawn between “government” and “people.” In a democratic society, is there a clear line between the people and the government as representative of the people’s will? Furthermore, one wonders whether the kind of American “civil religion” that Robert Bellah famously analyzed in the 1960s, and against which Tuttle and Lupu inveigh, is simply here to stay. American presidents continue to invoke God in public speeches, and many citizens believe that the United States itself is in a covenant with God. Tuttle and Lupu worry that any appeal to such a covenant leads to the “totalitarian” identification of political and divine authority. But the covenant with God could just as easily lead to a critique of political authority as to a reinforcement of it. As Abraham Lincoln declared in a legendary piece of American political theology, “The Almighty has his own purposes.” For Tuttle and Lupu, this kind of civil religion is both unconstitutional and bad public policy. But one wonders whether we could ever really eradicate it, and even if we could, whether it would be wise to do so.Joshua T. MauldinCenter of Theological InquiryCopyright © 2016 Society of Christian Ethics... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Religion and Public Policy: Human Rights, Conflict, and Ethics ed. by Sumner B. Twiss, Marian Simion, and Rodney L. PetersenJoshua T. MauldinReligion and Public Policy: Human Rights, Conflict, and Ethics Edited by Sumner B. Twiss, Marian Simion, and Rodney L. Petersen NEW YORK: CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS, 2015. 372 PP. $99.00This festschrift in honor of David Little canvasses the range of topics Little explored during a distinguished career. The (...) breadth of Little's research interests is reflected in the diversity of essays represented in the volume. Some of the seventeen chapters reflect directly on issues within Little's corpus while others discuss the influence Little had on various fields of inquiry or draw on his ideas for new areas of research.John Witte and Gene Outka provide essays of the first sort: Witte examines Little's work on the religious origins of human rights, while Outka raises questions about how Little's historical work on Reformed Protestantism relates to his work in human rights. Outka raises broader questions about methodology in religious ethics, questions also explored in a chapter by John Kelsay. These include foundationalism, the role of normativity in the study of religion, and the role of expressly theological concepts in religious ethics. The questions are intertwined but played out in different ways in Little's scholarly career; the first [End Page 224] two issues arose in response to the 1978 volume, Comparative Religious Ethics: A New Method, which was foundationalist in orientation. It sought to find the "basic" norm that was the ground of all other moral ideas in a religious system, whether Christianity, Buddhism, or the religion of the Navajo. Jeffrey Stout's critique of the book's foundationalist assumptions struck a serious blow to the project; in response, Little conceded so many of Stout's points that Stout questioned whether the methodology of the volume was meant to be taken seriously. As Kelsey notes in his chapter, some wondered whether the rigid methodology of Comparative Religious Ethics was created primarily to give religious ethicists a respectable job to do in an academic environment in which the study of religion was otherwise suspect. It sought to create a neo-Weberian study of religious ethical systems in which the scholar bracketed out her own ethical assumptions. Through this "value-free" descriptive science, the comparative ethicist hoped to gain admission to the secular academy. Foundationalism was meant to provide the kind of objectivity that gave the religious ethicist something objective to study. Giving up foundationalism would mean giving up the hope of comparative religious ethics as a science.This brings us to the role of distinctly theological claims in Little's work. When putting on the normative hat of the ethicist, Little preferred to bracket out theological assumptions, precisely in order to maintain conversation with his nonreligious interlocutors. The benefits of such a method are evident in this volume. Little managed to engage in moral and political conversation with scholars across a variety of religious, political, and national locations. As is clear in Little's afterword to this volume, he believes that bracketing out his first-order theological assumptions made this dialogue possible. But how can we be sure that this is the case? Perhaps other intellectual and moral virtues allowed this dialogue to flourish, and perhaps Little's virtues would have made such a dialogue possible, even had he been more open about his theological assumptions all along the way. It's hard to know for sure. But in light of the difficulties involved in bracketing out first-order theological assumptions, perhaps the better option is to make one's assumptions explicit while remaining willing to change one's mind when given compelling reasons to do so. That, it seems to me, is what it means to be reasonable—and this is compatible with holding theological beliefs. [End Page 225]Joshua T. MauldinCenter of Theological InquiryCopyright © 2017 Society of Christian Ethics... (shrink)