‘God is dead. God remains dead! And we have killed him !’
There are few expressions in the history of modern philosophy so carelessly bandied about as the one above. When Friedrich Nietzsche placed this dictum on the mouth on his Madman, he was not passing judgement on God’s metaphysical status (even if he was, quote-onquote, an ‘atheist.’) Rather, he was commenting on human culture, specifically Western culture : we in the West are ceasing to believe in God in any meaningful sense. Whether we are religious or not, we are living – to use Charles Taylor’s phrase – in ‘a secular age.’
Two centuries on and Nietzsche is often hailed as the herald of our present post-modern condition. This condition has a number of symptoms: existentialism, the idea that we choose who we are to become (rather than receiving a divine blueprint from above or within); a cynical distrust of truth claims (as thinly veiled grabs for power); and two states that Taylor calls ‘cross-pressuredness’ and the ‘imminent frame.’ Cross-pressuredness is the disorientating sense that different forces – narratives, symbols, ideas, experiences – are exerting pressure on our imagined worlds in wildly different ways, both vertically (in the divine) and horizontally (in our fellow men.) The imminent frame is the way in which we resist and re-conceptualise the vertical pull, fitting it into a secular framework. The chapel becomes a museum; worship a dose of the ‘sublime ;’ and transcendence, a curated experience.
Living in a postmodern, secular age, it would seem that all of us – whether we are devotees of a faith or have no faith at all – have a more natural struggle with belief in ‘God’ than past generations.
However much we may value belief privately, it often seems like faith is an optional extra, rather than the beating heart of culture. This is reflected in the most recent census data. In the 2021 census of England and Wales, less than half of the participants identified as Christian for the first time in census history, while more than a third identified as having no religion – an upsurge of 8.5 million from the previous census.
Yet the secularisation hypothesis – that as societies modernise, they become less religious – is not the only story in town. To take just one example, a recent survey by The Bible Society suggests that Gen Z are much more open to belief in God than previous generations. Since the pandemic, Church attendance has risen among 18–24 year-olds from 4% to 16%. One journalist, Justin Brierly, has dubbed this phenomenon ‘the surprising rebirth of belief in God.’
A number of essays in this volume further problematise the idea that God is dead – but in more profound ways that statistics could. David Lewis strikes at the heart of the secularisation thesis, complicating the relationship between affluence and religion ; Tasir Shariff proposes jazz as a new form of natural theology; Felix Bodsworth asks whether Christianity on social media is just a hollow social phenomenon; and Shuaib Magamedov considers if Japan is really becoming more godless, or if faith there has simply taken on a different guise.
Yet the papers here should not be confused with conventional apologetics. This is evident from the contributions of two year 7 students, Samuel Frangi and Ranvir Bhandari, from whom I have learnt a great deal. Samuel critically interrogates Descartes’ classic trademark argument, while Ranvir gives a survey of the question of whether humans are born good or evil. Both of these students – junior
Peripatetics in the Theology and Philosophy Society – are models of the intellectual ambition and curiosity of which Habs’ boys are capable.
These same intellectual virtues are on display in a collection of papers from middle school students, which push the question – Is God Dead in the 21st century? – far beyond the bounds of th e West. These students were tasked to address faith in a particular culture in a particular place, which has produced a stellar range of essays. From the story of the cult of Prince Philip and the phenomenon of TikTok Deconstruction, to the question of whether football is replacing religion and the culture of atheism and agnosticism among scientists, these essays plot a complex picture of the relationsh ip between faith and culture. A debt of gratitude is owed to the Editorial Board – Ore Adebayo, Tasir Shariff, Saul Grenfell, Lucas Argent and Nazim Khan – who took great care in editing these papers and have modelled scholarship in the Lyceum.
We are also blessed this year to have a number of special contributions to the journal. Public intellectual Alex O’Connor has written a piece expanding on our discussion on “New Atheism” at the Lyceum in October. Dr Joshua Sijuwade has kindly allowed us to publish the transcript of a talk he gave to the Habs’ visiting speaker programme on a theodicy he is developing Old Haberdasher, Isaac Santhouse, has written us a letter from the University of Cambridge, asking whether theology is dead in the 21st century. Mr Arnsberg has reflected on the death of God in conversation with writers spanning from S øren Kierkegaard to Terry Pratche tt. And Tasir Shariff has written a repo rt on our multi-school sixth conference on the same theme, which digests the contributions of Elizabeth Oldfield, Dr Emily Qureshi -Hurst and Dr Joshua Sijuwade. I commend these outstanding reflections.
I am also pleased to include in this year’s edition two reflections on the theme, My Philosophy: Theory, Praxis, Salvation , in which two sixthform students, Theodore Mort and Anahad Bhatnagar, provide a thoughtful sketch of their own developing worldviews. These reflections, which came out of my elective, Philosophy through History, show that the question of God strikes at the heart of meaningmaking and discovery. Whether or not we believe in traditional notions of divinity, the question of salvation is one that we cannot ignore.
Finally, it would be remiss of me not to mention the high quality of the essays in this volume, many of which were initially presented as papers at the Lunchtime Lyceum (Theology & Philosophy Society) which I have had the pleasure of overseeing. I spoke earlier this year at the Society on the importance of friendship. From Bertrand Russell and Ludwig Wittgenstein, all the way back to Enkidu and Gilgamesh, we can see that it is embodied friendship, not disembodied ideas, which lies at the heart of philosophy. Friendship also lies at the heart of this journal. The Society is a space marked by mutual respect, critical exploration, and good fun. This is borne out by many of the essays in this volume, which are the fruit of strong intellectual friendships.
As this is my final year at the school, it has been a privilege to take on responsibility for this journal. Teaching at Habs has been one of the great joys of my career, for which I am profoundly thankful. Thank you to all who contributed to this volume, which completes my joy
Dr John Nelson
Why I am No Longer a New Atheist
Alex O’Connor
So long as humans have been aware of themselves, having at some point developed self-consciousness and begun to wonder about their existence as they wandered about their existence, they have believed in supernatural animating principles. The temptation to attribute worldly phenomena to transcendent agents is decidedly not new – it is in fact one of the most anthropologically inevitable behaviours we observe – but over the course of human history, the details have become increasingly refined.
The spirits which once possessed the earths, winds and fires of the prehistoric world eventually morphed into something more discree t – particular deities, lords over their allotted natural offices (as in Graeco -Roman religion), or localised national deities (as in primitive Judaism) – preceding the elevation of one such deity to a position of ultimate and universal presence and authority (as in modern Abrahamic religions … let’s not talk about the trinity.)
From animism, to polytheism, to henotheism (Google it), to monotheism, a theist may see here the gift of revelation and the force of reason continually moving us towards the true God; a cynical statistician may extrapolate further and predict that the numb er of gods will continue to decrease. As Hitchens was fond of saying about the development from many gods to one god, “they’re getting nearer and nearer the true figure all the time. ”
This critical attitude has existed as long as there has been a prevailing religious sentiment to suspect. There have always been disbelievers. Indeed, at the very foundation of philosophical history, Socrates is put on trial for – though not exclusively – not believing in the gods.
So why has religious debate in recent decades been dominated by a so -called “new” atheism? Only cropping up at the outset of the twenty-first century, what is it about the atheism of Sam Harris, Richard Dawkins, or Christopher Hitchens that was so distinct from the historic disbelief of Friedrich Nietzsche, Voltaire or Albert Camus as to warrant a sparkly new qualifier?
"New atheism” broadly contains not one but two distinct theses: first, that religion is a fabrication, and no gods exist. Second, that religion is evil and a destructive societal force. It is in this second attitude that the uniqueness of new atheism is summed up. Historically, atheism has been thought a dangerous idea. Even in the post -enlightenment
era, an expression of disbelief in the pamphlet The Necessity of Atheism was enough to get Shelley expelled from Oxford University in 1811. And many legacy atheists, though disbelieving, were deeply uncomfortable in their irreligion, as in Nietzsche’s famous conviction that the death of God is an unfathomable tragedy, or Camus’ perplexity at an empty universe, or indeed Voltaire’s summary of the social utility of religion in saying “I don't believe in God but I hope my maid does.”
Especially as the enlightenment began to emphasise empirical investigation, and to mechanise the universe in a way that appeared to strip religion of some of its erstwhile explanatory capacity, a creeping atheism loomed not as a celebrated consequence but rather a regrettable corollary. As Keats captured the feeling, “Philosophy will clip an Angel's wings, / Conquer all mysteries by rule and line, / Empty the haunted air, and gnomed mine.”
It is this depressive attitude which new atheism attempted to reverse. In the face of such learned despair, enter Christopher Hitchens to tell us that, in fact, disinfecting the haunted air is a noble and overdue task, since, as he colourfully subtitled hi s book, religion poisons everything. Hitchens’ proposal was a powerful one, backed up by a ferocious rhetorical prowess unmatched in his lifetime. Born shortly after the second world war, Hitchens called upon the memory of totalitarianism in describing God as the ultimate “celestial dictator” – an authoritarian ruler who convicts us of thought crime and takes delight in punishing us for petty indiscretions without any due process. Life under such a deity is like living in North Korea, he would argue. But at least you can die to escape North Korea. To the religious, death is only where the real fun begins.
This represented a genuinely novel re-characterisation of Yahweh that is difficult to refute without sounding like a sympathiser of despots. Alongside this ran the less unique criticisms of religion’s responsibility for war, its undue interference in the p olitics of secular America, and, of course, its inspiration of terrorism. Hitchens, Harris, and Ayaan Hirsi-Ali make no secret of the importance of September the 11th, 2001 in motivating their writing.
Meanwhile, evolutionary biologist Richard Dawkins was growing increasingly concerned over biblical literalists (also, by the way, a surprisingly modern phenomenon) suppressing the truth of evolution by natural selection in education and popular culture. Thus, a biologist writing perhaps the best-selling book on atheism history has known: The God Delusion.
I was impressed by this body of work when I was younger, and for some time pedalled the same talking points on my own YouTube channel. It was easy enough to see that
there was no evidence for God’s existence. But it was also clear that religion was a force for evil. How else might we explain the crusades? Why else would Hitler invoke “the will of the Lord” in “standing guard against the Jew” in Mein Kampf?
Yet, in the years since, and now even having worked extensively with some of the figures I used to look up to as intellectual idols, I find myself unable to identify with the new atheist movement, and much prefer to call myself an agnostic. Here are some o f the reasons why:
1. There are good arguments for God’s existence. I do not mean to say that we can establish the truth of theism – I do not think we can, and would not expect this to be the proper way to come to knowledge of God if he did exist. After all, would a loving God construct an intellectual barrier to entry for belief in Him? Yet there is an impressive history of religious thought that any serious proactive atheist must contend with. Richard Dawkins, for his part, attempts a rebut tal of Thomas Aquinas’ famous five ways in all of two pages. I would like to imagine that a book with as confident a chapter title as Why There Almost Certainly is No God would spend more than 0.4 pages on average dealing with the celebrated arguments of the most important Christian metaphysician in history. The new atheists, to their enormous credit, engaged in high profile debates with serious thinkers. Yet the same talking points would tend to emerge. The argument from design and the solution provided by natural selection. The moral argument and its offensive insinuation that atheists don’t know how to raise their children. The firstcause argument and the arrogance in assuming that since science doesn’t yet have an answer, we should simply plug up the gap with “God.”
Yet not only were these arguments commonly misconstrued with unimaginable philosophical sloppiness – the moral argument does not say atheist cannot be moral, but that they cannot ontologically ground morality; first -cause arguments are not expressions of ignorance, but positive arguments for a necessary being with definable qualities – there are also families of important arguments left completely untouched by the new atheists. There is no serious engagement in the works of these writers with, for example, the contingency argument. I genuinely think Hitchens would not even have been able to accurately recite what this argument is. Another is the argument from reason, which poses a challenge for the assumption that our reasoning faculties are the product of unguided evolution. I once asked Richard Dawkins about this myself, and did not get the impression that he had fully understood the weight of the challenge. Such arguments are for me not enough to establish theism, but the new atheist attitude that, well, there is almost certainly no God , is not only too strong, but disproportionate in confidence to the apparent level of philosophical rigour that its proponents had applied to the arguments it dismissed (or hadn’t even heard of.)
2. Even if there weren’t good arguments for God’s existence, new atheists have an inappropriate understanding of what “God” is. When speaking about God, new atheists often adopted what most theist would consider a caricature of the object of their devotion. Think of the man in the sky, or indeed Hitchens’ celestial dictator. This made the concept easy enough to mock and rebut, but at the cost of intellectual shadowboxing. The ease with which new atheists were able to utterly ridicule the concept of “God” may say less about the unsophistication of theists, and more about the unsophistication of the new atheists’ theology. The kind of God imagined by the new atheists is a far cry from the God believed in by most philosophically -minded theists. “Imagine someone holding forth on biology whose only knowledge of the subject is the Book of British Birds,” wrote Terry Eagleton for the London Review of Books, “and you have a rough idea of what it feels like to read Richard Dawkins on theology.”
3. “Religion is evil” is too simplistic. To say “religion is bad” may be to speak truthfully. But if so, only in a trivial sense. “Religion” is simply to o broad a category to meaningfully congratulate or condemn in such general terms. Saying “religion is bad” is analogous to saying “politics is bad .” Surely it is true that politics is bad: it is responsible for the majority of wars; it drives friends and families apart; it encourages tribalism and dogmatic adherence; it has propped up dictatorships. Yet thi s is far too easy. There is clearly too much variance within the concept of “politics” to speak meaningfully of the whole, and politics being responsible for all kinds of unimaginable evil, as it undoubtedly is, does not rule out the idea that there is yet at least one correct political position, and that destructive political positions are simply wrong, and perhaps even for the reason that they are destructive. So it is with religion. Religion may be responsible for all kinds of evil, but that is not enough on its own to discount the possibility that there is a correct religious position. Hitchens once wrote, “Since it is obviously inconceivable that all religions can be right, the most reasonable conclusion is that they are all wrong.” To identify the glaring mistake, simply substitute “religions” for “political positions,” and imagine how Hitchens would respond to the use of such reasoning to discount his very own political convictions. “Well, Christopher, your Trotskyism must be false, since it’s impossible that all political opinions are correct!”
As for the celestial dictator, a question that Hitchens neglected to engage with is this: what’s wrong with dictatorship? (I told you it’s hard to rebut without sounding like a sympathiser.) There is a lot to say on this, but to abridge my own findings, the problem with dictatorship is the fallibility of the dictator. Dictatorships are not obviously evil in principle. At leas t not to everyone! They have been popular historically, and this is likely because they make a promise of straightforward efficiency a nd competence. The
problem is that they always fail, because they involve elevating a fallible and corruptible human being into an unworthy position of absolute authority.
But what if the problem is not with the office, but its holder? Suppose there were a person who genuinely knew what was best for you, much better than you know yourself. Who genuinely also wanted what’s best for you, and genuinely knew how best to achieve it. You would be perfectly irrational not to follow that person’s command. For a theist, of course, that person is God.
I am reminded here of the words of C.S. Lewis in Present Concerns : “Aristotle said that some people were only fit to be slaves. I do not contradict him. But I reject slavery because I see no men fit to be masters.”
Hitchens may have objected here: the problem is that there is no God. So the same problem arises, that we are elevating fallible human ideas to a position of absolute authority. This is a sensible critique, but changes the nature of our discussion. Hitchens presented his “celestial dictator” argument not in this form – that since God does not in fact exist, our trust in “his” authority is doomed – but rather in an abstract ethical form. That – in principle – we can be glad that God does not exist, because even if he did, he would be a divine dictator, which is – in principle –an unethical kind of being.
This argument forgets or ignores why dictatorship is undesirable in the first place. In making such a case against God we have taken our general distaste of dictatorship and applied it to anything which dictates, so that if even love itself dictates, we think it bad, forgetting that what has made us think everything other than love dictating is bad is that it is not love
One truly distinct aspect of new atheism is that it was cool. And it also sold books; some have argued that new atheism is best characterised as, above all else, a publishing phenomenon. It represented a kind of brand – a rebranding of a position historically feared and despised. But perhaps as with “New Coke ,” it is the kind of idea which sounds great on paper, but can only be properly tested via its implementation. (The Coca-Cola Company extensively taste-tested their new recipe and found it to be far more popular in all its tests, but this did not prevent a huge backlash and even the formation of the “Old Cola Drinkers of America” lobby group, when, in practice, people were just too fond of the more familiar original.)
It is currently fashionable to condemn new atheism for failing to live up to its promises of a better society if only we could abandon superstition and piety. We were promised spiritual autonomy, scientific progress, and moral stability in return for sacri ficing our religious impulse. A more prosperous society with a less tribal, more moral populace, consciously united by its common humanity A society governed by argument and reason, not dogma and purity tests.
The popularity of new atheism over the past few decades is impossible to deny, but perhaps so too is the force of this final criticism, that as we begin to survey the world we have inherited from its implementation , we wonder if the expectation of such utopian results was in the end, shall we say… a belief without evidence?
Why Does God Allow Suffering?
An Exemplarist Way Forward
Dr Joshua Sijuwade
This is a transcript of a talk delivered by Dr Joshua Sijuwade as part of the Sixth Form Visiting Speakers’ programme on 3rd October 2024 Dr Sijuwade is an analytic philosopher of religion and Teaching Fellow at the University of Birmingham.
Good morning everyone,
Thank you so much for having me here today. It's a genuine privilege to stand before you all. When I look out and see so many bright, eager faces, I'm filled with hope and excitement for the future. You are the next generation of leaders, thinkers, and changemakers, and this is a pivotal moment in your lives a time when you're beginning to form the worldviews and convictions that will guide you through the challenges and opportunities that lie ahead.
As you navigate this complex journey, among the most profound questions you'll encounter is one that has perplexed humanity for millennia: the problem of suffering. Why is there so much pain and anguish in our world? How can we reconcile the existence of an all-loving, all- powerful God with the reality of profound, seemingly senseless suffering? These are not just abstract philosophical inquiries; they're deeply personal questions that touch the core of our human experience.
In the 4th century, Augustine of Hippo grappled with these very questions. He struggled to understand how a benevolent God could allow events like the sack of Rome a city considered the heart of the civilised world at the time and the brutal torture of the faithful. Augustine's reflections were not mere intellectual exercises; they were earnest attempts to make sense of a world that often seemed at odds with the divine goodness he believed in.
Fast forward to the 17th century, and we find Gottfried Leibniz coining the term ‘theodicy,’ derived from the Greek words for ‘God’ and ‘justice .’ Leibniz sought to vindicate God's goodness and justice in the face of evil and suffering. He proposed that our world, despite its flaws, is the ‘best of all possible worlds’ because it allows for the existence of free will and the opportunity for humans to choose good over evil.
Yet, despite these historical attempts to address the problem, the scale and intensity of suffering in our own time can feel overwhelming. We live in an age where information is at our fingertips, where news of tragedy and hardship from any corner of the g lobe reaches us in an instant. We see it in the headlines every day: wars tearing nations apart,
acts of genocide that defy comprehension, natural disasters that leave communities devastated, and pandemics that affect every aspect of our lives.
But suffering isn't just something that happens ‘out there’ in distant lands or to other people. We encounter it in our own lives and communities. It's in the quiet anguish of a friend battling depression, feeling isolated despite being surrounded by peopl e. It's in the heartbreak of a neighbour who has lost a child, a grief that seems insurmountable. It's in our own dark nights of the soul, when we question our purpose, our worth, and even our very existence.
The Philosopher William Rowe provides important examples to illustrate this problem of suffering. The first is the fictional case of Bambi a young fawn trapped in a forest fire, enduring excruciating burns for days before finally succumbing to her injuries This image of innocent wildlife suffering due to natural causes challenges our understanding of a just and benevolent universe.
The second example is tragically real: the case of Sue, a five -year-old girl who was brutally beaten, assaulted, and strangled by her mother's boyfriend. Such acts of unimaginable cruelty force us to confront the darkest aspects of human nature. They provoke moral outrage and existential anguish, compelling us to ask: If God exists and is both all-good and all- powerful, why would He allow such horrors to befall the innocent?
Throughout history, many answers have been proposed to this agonising question. The free will defence suggests that God allows suffering as a necessary consequence of granting humans meaningful freedom. Without the ability to choose evil, our capacity to choose good would be meaningless. This perspective values human autonomy highly but can seem inadequate when faced with extreme evil.
Another approach is the soul -making theodicy, which posits that suffering plays an essential role in developing virtue and spiritual growth. The idea is that challenges and hardships can forge character, much like steel is tempered in fire. Now, while ther e is truth in the notion that adversity can lead to personal growth, this explanation often feels insufficient when we consider the scale of some suffering. Can we really say that the torture of a child serves a greater purpose?
These traditional theodicies offer insights worth pondering, yet they often struggle to fully account for the most extreme forms of evil and anguish. It's difficult to accept that every instance of profound suffering is justified by the development of virt ue or the preservation of free will.
A crucial aspect to consider in evaluating theodicies is their ability to provide a greater good that evil necessarily brings about. A greater good, in this context, refers to a positive outcome or state that is of such significant value that it justifies or outweighs the existence of evil and suffering. The most compelling theodicy would demonstrate how evil and suffering are not just permitted, but are essential in bringing about this greater good a good that could not be achieved through any other means.
Today, I'd like to introduce a different perspective on the problem of suffering one I refer to as the ‘Exemplarist Theodicy’. This approach is in the tradition of soul -making theories; however, it more importantly inspired by the moral theory of Exemplari sm, which shifts the foundation of moral goodness from abstract principles to the concrete lives of moral exemplars.
Exemplarism suggests that we understand what is good by looking at those who embody goodness in exceptional ways. Think of figures like Martin Luther King Jr., who faced imprisonment, death threats, and relentless harassment yet remained steadfast in his commitment to nonviolent activism and racial equality. His courage and moral clarity galvanised a nation and continue to inspire movements for justice worldwide.
Consider also Malala Yousafzai, who, despite being shot in the head by the Taliban for advocating for girls' education, emerged stronger and more determined. Her unwavering commitment to education and equality has made her a global symbol of resilience and hope.
According to Exemplarism, virtues like courage, compassion, and empathy are not just abstract concepts but are made real and tangible through the lives of such individuals. Their stories provide us with powerful narratives that illuminate the depths of hum an goodness and inspire us to strive toward those ideals ourselves. In short, exemplars ground and what it means to be good within reality.
Building on this idea, the Exemplarist Theodicy argues that suffering, even in its most acute forms, can serve the greater good of transforming individuals into moral exemplars. It's often in the face of immense adversity that the potential for radical mor al transformation emerges. When we're pushed to our absolute limits beyond what we thought we could endure we may tap into reservoirs of strength and virtue we didn't know we possessed.
Take, for example, Sophie Scholl, a young German student and a member of the White Rose resistance movement during World War II. Despite knowing the grave risks, she distributed anti-Nazi leaflets, speaking out against tyranny and injustice. Even when
arrested and facing execution, she remained unyielding in her convictions, saying, ‘Somebody, after all, had to make a start’.
Or consider Father Maximilian Kolbe, a Polish priest imprisoned in Auschwitz. When a fellow prisoner selected to die by starvation as a punishment for an escape attempt cried out for his family, Father Kolbe volunteered to take his place. He sacrificed his life so another might live, embodying the ultimate act of selfless love.
On the Exemplarist view, this is part of why God allows suffering - because it creates the conditions for this most profound form of character development. The exemplars who emerge from great adversity have a unique capacity to awaken and deepen the moral consciousness of others. Their example inspires us to live with greater compassion and resilience, and to emulate their virtues in our own lives.
As more people are moved to emulate exemplars, they too undergo a transformative journey. They begin to cultivate the same qualities that made the original exemplar so admirable - courage in the face of adversity, compassion for the suffering, a commitment to what is good and just. In time, these people become exemplars themselves, embodying the virtues that can light the way for others.
And so the process continues, with each new generation of exemplars inspiring the next. The influence of these moral heroes spreads like ripples in a pond, touching more and more lives. Slowly, painfully, a world of suffering is transformed into something kinder and more beautiful as the example of exemplars creates a chain reaction of moral awakening and transformation.
This, the Exemplarist Theodicy suggests, is how God works to make the world good. Not by waving a magic wand and eliminating all suffering, but by using that suffering to create exemplars. These exemplars then serve as the catalyst for others to transform, becoming exemplars themselves and perpetuating the cycle.
As more people are moved to emulate exemplars, the world starts to change. Compassion spreads, resilience grows, and goodness takes deeper root. Slowly, painfully, a world of suffering is transformed into something kinder and more beautiful as the influence of moral heroes permeates society.
In this view, God's ultimate goal is a world filled with such moral beauty a world where goodness has triumphed not through supreme divine fiat, but through the free choices of humans inspired by the example of the exemplars before them. A world permeated by the love and wisdom born of suffering, where even the scars of the past have been transmuted into something glorious.
Thus, the Exemplarist Theodicy frames God's allowance of suffering as a means to an end - the end being a world perfected through the ripple effect of moral transformation. By creating the conditions for exemplars, God sets in motion a process by which mor e and more people can become beacons of light in the darkness. The suffering of the world becomes the context in which a truly good world is forged, one transformed life at a time.
However, it's crucial to recognise that exemplars are not just distant, world -historical figures. They are ordinary people in our own communities whose response to suffering inspires us to live with more wisdom and compassion.
Consider the cancer patient who starts a support group, providing comfort and advocating for research. Or the mother who channels her grief over a lost child into fighting for safer streets. Or the recovering addict who becomes a sponsor, offering hard-won wisdom and hope.
In ways big and small, these everyday exemplars prove the transformative power of suffering. They show us how pain can be alchemized into purpose, brokenness into beauty. And they remind us that we all have the potential for such growth.
Even in this room, each of you will face trials that could be crucibles for profound development. A serious illness. A painful breakup. The loss of a loved one. In those moments, you'll have the opportunity to become an exemplar yourself.
By responding to adversity with courage, channelling anguish into compassion, and letting your scars make you not smaller but softer, you can be a light in the darkness for others. You can model the hard-won wisdom that transmutes suffering into strength.
So as you grapple with the problem of evil, remember this: exemplars are all around us and within us. Forged in the fire of suffering, they show us the heights of what we can endure and overcome. Let their example give you hope, and strive to be that hope for others.
Bu then one can ask: what about instances of suffering that seem utterly senseless –situations where no moral exemplar emerges, and no apparent good results? This is where the Exemplarist Theodicy extends its reach. It posits that even the most apparently gratuitous (that means pointless) suffering can indirectly contribute to a world of greater justice, compassion, and nobility.
In revisiting Rowe's examples of Bambi and Sue, while their individual suffering is heart- breaking, their stories can serve as catalysts for collective moral awakening. Recent research suggests that many animals possess the cognitive abilities necessary
for moral behaviour, indicating that they are already exemplars in their own right. Bambi's plight, therefore, provides an opportunity for other deer to express their inherent exemplarity through acts of compassion and care.
Imagine Bambi's fellow deer comforting her in her agony, nuzzling her and staying by her side. Their display of sympathy and solidarity, which is often thought reserved for humans, serves as a powerful example of the moral potential within the animal kingdom. Bambi's suffering thus becomes a catalyst not just for human moral reflection, but for the expression of exemplarity and virtue among her fellow creatures.
And Sue's tragic experience, similarly, can galvanize efforts to protect vulnerable children, reform social services, and enact laws that prevent such atrocities. Her story can awaken us to the stark reality of child abuse and inspire us to become fierce advocates for the voiceless. In standing up for children like Sue, we express our own potential for exemplary compassion and justice.
Thus, while the suffering of Bambi and Sue is undeniably terrible, the Exemplarist Theodicy suggests that even such harrowing experiences can contribute to the greater good by providing opportunities for the expression of moral excellence. Whether it's deer comforting one of their own, or humans fighting for the protection of the innocent, such acts of exemplarity have the potential to inspire goodness in every corner of creation. That is, for every instance of child or animal suffering, there is the opportunity for the greater good of these individuals to express their inherent exemplarity or for them to provide other humans or animals with the opportunity to become or express their exemplarity in light of this.
In this view, no suffering is ultimately pointless if it prompts even one person to live with greater wisdom and compassion. The reason why God allows suffering, then, is to bring about
the greater good of enabling an individual to (express) or transform into an exemplar or providing others with the opportunities to make this expression or transformation. God is thus ultimately working towards the goal of a world filled with individuals w ho embody the highest ideals of goodness, compassion, and heroism.
Yet, acknowledging this can feel like cold comfort. It may seem like a cosmic system where some benefit at the expense of others' torment. And so, in recognising this tension, the Exemplarist Theodicy suggests that God does something more. For every sufferer whose anguish enables another's transformation into an exemplar, he provides eternal compensation an infinite good that outweighs even the deepest affliction.
Specifically, this means granting them an intimate, healing communion with the Divine and with those their suffering helped transform. As God empathises perfectly with their pain, fully appreciating the horror they endured, God establishes intimate connect ions with them throughout their life. And so in eternity, they are surrounded by the appreciative love of both God and the community of exemplars whose character was shaped, in part, by their suffering. Their scars become symbols not just of pain but of a transcendent beauty forged through adversity.
This idea doesn't erase the reality of their suffering, nor does it trivialise their pain. Instead, it offers a framework where their experiences are acknowledged in all their complexity, and where ultimate justice and healing are realised in a realm beyon d our current existence.
Now it's important to emphasise that this is not an easy or wholly emotionally satisfying answer to the problem of suffering. Innocent anguish, even if met with eternal compensation, still involves real horror and loss. The apparent realities of our world will always sit in deep tension with the existence of a perfect God.
However, the Exemplarist Theodicy provides a framework that can resolve this tension. By showing how suffering ultimately serves the good of moral transformation, it reconciles the existence of a loving God with the stark reality of pain. It acknowledges the depth of evil while still affirming a higher purpose and ultimate redemption.
In a world where suffering is inescapable, the Exemplarist Theodicy offers a way to find meaning amid the darkness. It does not negate the hurt but illuminates a path through it. While not a remedy for all experiential issues, it is a potent reconciliation of faith and lived experience. A map that can guide us through the valley of the shadow while still pointing towards the light.
The Exemplarist Theodicy provides this greater good in two key ways. First, it shows how suffering can directly lead to the transformation of individuals into moral exemplars people whose lives embody the highest virtues and inspire others to greatness. Second, it demonstrates how even seemingly senseless suffering can provide opportunities for others to transform, either by responding with compassion or by being inspired to fight against injustice. In this
view, the greater good is a world populated by individuals of exceptional moral character, whose actions ripple outward to create a more just and compassionate society. This good could not be achieved without the reality of suffering that creates such exemplars.
By identifying these transformative outcomes, the Exemplarist Theodicy offers a solution to the problem of suffering. It reconciles the existence of an all -powerful, allloving God with the reality of suffering by showing that suffering is necessary both f or the direct creation of exemplars and, for those who cannot become exemplars themselves, their suffering still serves a greater purpose by providing opportunities for others to transform into exemplars in response, with these individuals who cannot transform being compensated for their suffering and providing others with opportunities.
This framework allows us to understand how a benevolent God could allow suffering: not out of indifference or lack of power, but as an essential component in the process of transforming individuals into exemplars and creating the conditions that allow othe rs to develop exceptional moral character in response to others' suffering.
As we reflect on these ideas, I encourage you to continue wrestling with these deep questions. Engage with the insights of philosophers and theologians who have grappled with these issues across the ages. But also look to the testimonies of exemplars throughout history and in your own lives those who have suffered profoundly and yet have managed to wring beauty and goodness from the bitterness.
Let this struggle drive you not just toward intellectual understanding but also toward moral action. In a world as broken as ours, the call to relieve suffering, to protect and uplift the vulnerable, and to be beacons of hope is more urgent than ever. Each of us has the capacity to make a difference in our own spheres of influence, as an exemplar.
Take inspiration from the exemplars we've discussed and others you may know personally. Strive to embody the virtues of courage, compassion, and justice in your daily lives. Remember that you don't need to be a global figure to have a significant impact. Small acts of kindness, standing up for what's right in your community, offering support to someone in need these actions ripple outwards in ways we may never fully comprehend.
And remember that your own daily struggles and challenges, no matter how small they may seem, have the potential to transform you into an exemplar or provide others with the opportunity to become one. Every difficulty you face is a chance for growth and a catalyst for positive change, not just for yourself, but for those around you.
As you go from here, may you grapple honestly with the problem of suffering but not lose heart. May you allow yourselves to grieve the brokenness of the world but never cease to dream of wholeness. Seek truth and meaning with open hearts and minds, and remember the profound wisdom found in literature and spiritual teachings.
And remember that every experience of suffering you personally undergo in your daily life provides you with the opportunity to become an exemplar or help others to do so. And so there is meaning behind every suffering you experience. So may you be granted with the strength to face suffering in an exemplary way – with courage, compassion, empathy and love. That is, that you may be exemplary in all that you do, even in the face of suffering.
Thank you for your time, and may your journey be one of growth, purpose, and profound compassion.
Is Theology Dead in the 21st Century?
A Letter from the University of Cambridge
Isaac Santhouse (OH)
Arriving at Cambridge to study the oldest subject at the university, I carried with me a sense of excitement and unease. The question of whether G -d is dead felt like something hanging in a museum- historically important, but not exactly pressing. The ques tions that drew me to studying theology were about meaning, not G -d. Yet, I quickly found that theology draws one to deeper questions that they never intended to ask.
The phrase “G-d is dead” echoes from Nietzsche, who saw it as something of a triumph rather than a tragedy. It was not so much of a metaphysical judgement, but rather a cultural diagnosis. This came from the death of a shared framework and the withdrawal of ultimate meaning from public life. The phrase has since been twisted in a variety of different ways - in essays, online debates, and even some unsettling sermons.
Yet, now, a deeper question has arisen - whether theology itself is dead. If belief has retreated from public life, has the study of belief lost its urgency? Cambridge, however, does not treat theology as a relic. It is not preserved, but instead dissected and challenged. In my lectures and supervisions so far, I have studied both texts that make no sense outside of faith, and others that see it their duty to shred faith apart. Not only this, but the environment itself fosters an opportunity for debate. I wi ll sit in lectures next to some people who believe deeply, and others who believe in nothing. Yet, the common factor in all of us is that we are trying to understand what is at stake.
So: is theology dead in the 21st century? No. It is alive in reading rooms as I desperately try to understand Kant an hour before my supervision, and alive in the lectures where arguments run far over time. Theology is alive because the questions haven’t d ied. If anything, they’ve multiplied. Theology could not be more relevant with the increasing issues of what faith looks like after the climate collapses, or what justice means in our increasingly secular world.
If you are thinking of studying theology – especially at Cambridge – don’t expect simple answers. The subject requires engagement with some of the most significant unresolved ideas and historical texts that continue to provoke analysis. In a world full of noise and quick opinions, theology is one of the few areas that still takes time to think carefully about big issues. Rather than avoiding hard questions, it works through them slowly. Theology isn’t dead. It is just speaking an older language that people have forgotten how to hear.
A Reflection
on Haberdasher’s Boys’ Theology and Philosophy 2025 Conference:
Is God Dead in the 21st century?
Tasir Shariff
On Wednesday 18th June, theology and philosophy students of Haberdasher’s Boys’ and Girls’ schools, North London Collegiate School and Bushey Mead were treated to wonderful display of cutting edge thought at the Haberdashers Theology and Philosophy Conference. The three guest speakers, Dr Joshua Sijuwade, Dr Emily Qureshi Hurst and Elizabeth Oldfield each presented radically different responses to the subject of our T&P Journal – Is God dead in the 21st Century? – differing as much on the method of thought with which we should approach this question as the conclusions. We were then split into three groups, all of which experienced a university -style seminar, delivered by Mrs Opie, Mrs Khurjekar and Dr Nelson. Finally, we approached the most riveting event of the day, a panel discussion moderated by Dr Nelson in which all three guests were posed questions submitted by students, allowing for fierce debate and the fleshing out of ideas covered briefly that morning. In this report, I hope, to academically portray the responses of each thinker to Nietzsche’s affirmation that God is dead and perhaps weigh in my own thoughts at times. My hope is that I can convey how intellectually stimulating the day – and bring that to a wider audience.
Our first lecture was delivered by Joshua Sijuwade of the University of Birmingham, who approached the question from an analytic philosophical standpoint. Dr Sijuwade drew upon seven key aspects of reality that must be explained: consciousness, morality, suffering and fine tuning to name a few, and argued that the “loveliest” explanation of such aspects is God. By loveliest he is referring to a more developed Ockham’s Razor, that the simplest, most probable explanation be favoured over others. Fascinatingly , Dr Sijuwade stated his own definition of God, a tropism-based theology that argues God is a maximally great “trope”. A trope is something that can only be known through experience, perhaps something which does not operate on a scientific level, which is why Dr Sijuwade points out that the naturalism advocated by Graham Oppy falls short of our reality. Much like it is impossible to explain how it is to see and experience the colour red, regardless of how many scientific facts one has about the colour red, God is a trope that is beyond such explanation but accessible upon an analytic philosophical scale. Dr Sijuwade concluded that the seven pillars upon which we build reality are best and most simply explained by God and emphasised that God is, through analy tical philosophy, more probable than ever before given how the subject has evolved.
Dr Emily Qureshi -Hurst, an atheist philosopher at the University of Cambridge, presented a fantastically different approach to the question. As an atheist, she asserted that her belief was in accordance with Nietzsche but in a less extreme way: God is intellectually unlikely in the 21st century, but Qureshi-Hurst made sure to represent atheism in its best form. She did this by quite explicitly rejecting two arguments made by Richard Dawkins, perhaps the most infamous of the four horsemen of the New Atheist movement. First, she rejected Dawkins’ view that science and religion contest each other and therefore science is correct and religion breeds “non -thought”. Dr Qureshi-Hurst points out that neither ‘science’ nor ‘religion’ can be defined clearly and so to speculate that the whole of science defeats the whole of religion is unjustified. From my perspective, I greatly appreciated Dr Qureshi-Hurst's rejection of this “false dichotomy” that the New Atheists unfairly propag ate. Dawkins as a zoologist often finds himself philosophically immature or even ignorant and Dr Qureshi-Hurst demonstrates that this form of atheism is a weak one at best. Dr Qureshi-Hurst goes on to also refute an atheist argument from fundamentalism, also proposed by the New Atheists, particularly Hitchens and Dawkins. Such speakers often rattle off acts of terrorism that represent only a minority of religious people, especially as Dr QureshiHurst points out, with Islam. She points out that we commit no such condemnation to science despite Nazi scientists and so the same applies to religion. Finally, Dr Qureshi Hurst went on to portray the problem of evil and the evolution of religious belief as deeply concerning to our belief in God. She iterates problems with the natural evil in the world, observing case studies of parasitic methods which cause intense agony and even the sadistic nature of cats who “play” with their prey. Finally, Dr Qureshi -Hurst points out the neurological issue with religion. She quotes Justin Barrett who states that “beliefs in gods are a natural product of our common cognitive faculties, and in this sense, religious belief is ‘natural.’” If such views are simply expressions of what Hitchens might call our “pattern seeking nature”, should they be trusted?
Finally, our third speaker, the acclaimed writer Elizabeth Oldfield gave an incredibly nuanced response to the question, Is God dead in the 21st Century? She first established that analytical philosophy results in a “metaphysical draw” and instead refers to a more powerful source of belief in God : experience. In her case this covered a range of emotive, engaging and quite confronting stages of her life. For example, her religious experience in a Church in which she began uncertain about God’s presence and c ame out of being sure beyond doubt of the living presence of Jesus Christ. In fear of misrepresenting what was an emotionally charged account of her journey with faith I will avoid a detailed summary, but she spoke about issues she had with the Bible and her faith, all of which are consistently changing. The most valuable lesson I took away from Oldfield’s lecture was on her rejection of a truncated form of reason and her perspective on truth. She put forward a study that implied a difference in the
hemispheres of our brain, the left being rational and machine like and the right being to do with the bigger picture, concerned with relations and emotions. Why, Oldfield asks, should the left be preferred? This is a fascinating idea which I found confronting. The Enlightenment as a movement has seemingly glorified a sterile, dehumanised truth , yet Oldfield states such a thing is impossible. She beliefs truth rests as much in emotions, relationships and experiences as it does with cold rational thought, a fascinating idea.
After a lunch break and the short seminars run by teachers, our three guests gathered to respond to questions put forward by our students and were moderated by Dr Nelson. I felt that this session was the highlight of the day as we were able to get down to the heart of differing methodologies provided by each speaker regarding different topics. There were many highlights and so I will briefly cover one which stood out to me, a fruitful discussion on Bible interpretation in today’s world. Elizabeth Oldfield b egan by revealing that she believes the Bible to be an incredibly complex mess of literature, history and theology, and that one should value how it speaks personally to oneself. Dr Sijuwade then brought up his own orthodox practice. He described how, in t he 4th century, it was decided which books would enter the biblical canon with a certain practice, and that he attempts to display a similar method. This is characterised by interpreting any biblical moment that contradicts science, history, Christology or the Church’s teachings as metaphorical. Dr Qureshi-Hurts leapt at this immediately pointing out two flaws: first, the problem of slavery and homosexuality in the Bible ; how is this metaphorical or contradictory? Second, it is made clear that such a method consists of a “vicious circle”: the Church’s teachings are endorsed by the Bible but the Bible’s interpretation is endorsed by the Church’s teachings. Dr Sijuwade had little response to such a claim, stating that it was a circularity but not a vicious one, yet Oldfield had an extremely credible response to Dr Qureshi-Hurst’s first issue. Oldfield declared that the person of Christ is first and takes priority over Paul, Hebrew writings and any Church.
This was one of many debates that occurred during the panel discussion which included the value of reason and logic, the strength of Christianity, how God exists in relation to time, and my own personal favourite moment in which Dr Qureshi -Hurst pointed ou t that atheists don’t require a higher power to ground concepts which the religious use. To conclude, I speak on behalf of all those who attended that we were extremely grateful to enjoy such an advanced range of guests. We have the entire department to th ank with special gratitude for Dr Nelson, Mr Davis, Mrs Opie and Mrs Khurjekar who all contributed to the day. I found the conference lively and thought provoking, forcing me to confront my own worldview, and I hope that Habs continues to enjoy such privileges.
Is God Dead in the 21st Century? A Literary Reflection
Mr Sela Arnsberg
Never has a question been so, on the one hand, poignant yet so completely futile at the same time. Nietzsche’s phrase “God is dead... and we have killed him”, as stated in a better essay by a better philosopher in this Veritas edition, is bandied about as if it actually means what it means. The question has always existed but has never been relevant until the advent of modern science; never asked so publicly and so persistently until the priests were no longer the main holders of knowl edge. It is my belief that the question itself shows a misunderstanding of our conception of reality, and thus, effectively, pointless to ask.
But first, we must accept a few painful truths: we do not know that the world exists beyond our mind. Descartes had shown this already, but a discussion on this is beyond our current purpose. In short, we know what our senses tell us through the brain’s ability to break down the electrical information from our body into what we experience as thoughts that relate, as far as we can tell, to an external world. There is no such thing as an experienced objective world as we all perceive things differently. Thus, there is no accessible objective world, but a range of subjective worlds that may exist in relation to an objective one. Since there is no objective world that we inhabit completely within our perception, then every person is living in their own version o f reality, their own universe. If so, then the question whether there is a God or not does not matter – there is and there isn’t. Just depends on what you believe.
Seeing as all reality is in our minds, the moment that we decide, consciously or not, that the world functions in a certain way, then it does. Here philosophers usually get stuck with metaphysics, scientific processes and people like flat -earthers. However, as is always the case when philosophy fails, the literary geniuses rise. Terry Pratchett offers an explanation in his novel Hogfather – we need belief to be humans. Sure, Death in the novel calls these lies, but it is these ‘lies’ that make up our non -physical reality. His examples are things such as ‘truth’ and ‘justice’ - things that do not physically exist in the world, yet through belief do exist as part of the physical world. But this is only half of the picture, as we know that reality is individual since each person lives in their own mind’s perception of reality. Thus, it is the belief in God that creates God – whether one believes that God is directly as expressed in the Koran, Metamorphoses or is actually Quetzalcoatl and we should return to blood sacrifices, is, in a way, irrelevant: God is an objective reality if you believe He is, just as He may not exist at all. The belief in God is what makes Him real; thus, the question of God’s death is absurd: he is as alive, dead or non-existent as one believes him to be.
Rather than ask ‘is God dead’, we must ask about His functionality - a continuation of Nietzsche’s idea. As Nietzsche would put it, the priests are no longer needed: their white coats taken by others, their mystical rituals through which they divined the will of God now overtaken by others. Their secret Holy of Holies usurped by the secrets of the lab. This sounds disparaging but truth is the need for ceremony/processes is greater than the idea it serves. Similarly, one need no longer pester the pastor to c omplain about your spouse, children and in-laws – Freud and his army of psychoanalysts are here to help! Thus, it is not the death of the deity, but the death of the need for the deity, that is at stake.
But that misses the point of God and belief, at least in the modern setting. We are no longer in need of a God, but that does not remove the desire for him, the human need for belief in the metaphysical, in the ideal. It is here that, as always, unbeknowns t to us, Kirkegaard comes to our rescue: it was never about need. A complete self, in Kirkegaard's eyes, is a relationship between soul, the body and its originator (God). Thus, to Kirkegaard, to be a complete person, we must fully be ourselves, accepting the infinite that is the soul, the finite that is the body, and the ideal that created us. But it must be a choice. Famously, Kirkegaard said that one must take a leap into faith, as if leaping off a cliff and believing that the belief will give you wings. Obviously, Kirkegaard believed that one should believe in the Lutheran interpretations(ish) of God. But such a shallow reading misses the underlying point: we choose to believe in God. It is a choice, not a necessity. Whether we believe that the metaphysi cal is the ideal of Hope, Hate, Despair, God, Zeus... that is almost irrelevant. The underlying principle is that we are a relationship between our ability to connect abstract thought, the beliefs we have that cannot be proven, and the physical world.
So, what is the ideal? Whatever you believe it is. The point is that we choose; we wanted to believe in God, rather than needed to believe in Him. And so, we turn back, at the very end, to Pratchett once again. In Small Gods, Pratchett discusses how gods and humans share a symbiotic relationship of belief: we believe in them, and so they are created; as we believe in them, they assist us, and the more we believe in them, the stronger they become. The same is true of our ideal s and values, whether deity or concept. Yet a final, faint critique can be heard: ‘but who put that thought there?’ and I say: ‘irrelevant.’ Was it God? Your unconscious? God placing the idea of Him in your unconscious? It doesn’t matter; what matters is what you choose to believe.
Heaven or Hedge Funds – Has Economics Killed God?
David Lewis
‘The gradual improvements of arts, manufactures, and commerce, destroyed… the whole temporal power of the clergy.’ Adam Smith argued in The Wealth of Nations that the idea of religion is not only inconsistent with economics, but that economics makes religion obsolete – perhaps ‘God is dead, and we (and our economics) have killed him.’ This essay will strongly disagree with this argument, and will attempt to prove that good economics has not only strengthened religion, but also played a pivotal role in religion’s survival until our time, and that the current state of the world is not on ly consistent with religion, but in many ways what a Christian God might have envisioned.
For the purposes of this essay, when I refer to religion, I will mean people’s practice of their belief systems, as well as the thought, scriptures, and institutions comprising those systems. Primarily, I will be talking about Christianity, as it is by far the most prevalent religion, however much of my argumentation can be applied to other religions. By economics, I mean the study of how to distribute scarce resources to a population with unlimited needs: both how we think we should distribute, and how it is distributed in practice.
A major argument against the existence of God, and so against religion, is the problem of evil, which attempts to disprove God by claiming that it is impossible for an omnibenevolent God (as presumed by Abrahamic religions) to exist, given the immense evil we know to exist in the world. In response, it can be argued that the primary reason for a large part of human evil historically (theft, murder and other violence) is the scarcity of resources and the need to compete for them – the idea of a Hobbesian ‘ state of nature. ’ The existence of the state, and the economics that the state brings with it –which aims to distribute the scarce resources in the most efficient way possible – can solve this problem: by efficiently distributing scarce, necessary resources, we can get rid of the state of nature – a state which is grossly inconsistent with religion and an omnibenevolent God.
The ‘invisible hand’ is an economic idea created by the aforementioned Adam Smith which states that the selfishness of people and businesses will bring out socially positive outcomes by creating competition, which encourages everyone to produce the best products they can in the most efficient way possible. Although the dogmatism of this idea is questioned by many economists, it can still explain the presence of a major sin
– selfishness – in a world created by an omnibenevolent God, regardless of whether it is true in every circumstance. We live in a better world now than we did before the
widespread adaptation of capitalism (a system developed from the concept of the ‘invisible hand.’) Capitalism has numerous flaws and is not a perfect system, however its adaptation has allowed the world to develop incomparably, improving the quality of life of many individuals. It could be aptly questioned how this could possibly apply to the millions living below the poverty line today, or even the victims of the slave trade, which was of course a product of capitalism. Capitalism has provided us with the tools which enable us to alleviate the scale and severity of poverty and inequality: the welfare state, foreign aid, trade. However, it has also given us the opportunity to exploit and abuse those over whom we may have control or power. It is up to us as h umanity to decide whether we use this immensely powerful tool in a positive way, such as providing basic necessities to those who need them through the welfare state, or to perpetrate despicable acts, like commodifying living souls. We can say that God’s contrivance was able to give humans the opportunity to bring good (welfare) out of evil (selfishness) through the invisible hand, but he gives us the choice of whether we use it in this way – a further rebuttal to the problem of evil and an example of God’s benevolence.
The idea of addressing human needs is fundamental to Christianity. In John 4:20 we see ‘One who has no love for the brother he has seen cannot love the God he has not seen ’ This suggests that one cannot truly be a Christian and ‘love God,’ if he fails to ‘love ’ or perhaps help, people he can see on Earth. We can extend this to say that any state or system cannot be consistent with Christianity, if it fails to help and provide basic necessities to every person within it – something which can only be achieved through good economics; this shows that economics is essential to make any state consistent with Christianity, and because the nature of the state is something so fundamental to what the world looks like, to make the world we live in consistent with Chri stianity.
The same can be seen in Matthew 25:35: ‘I was a stranger and you welcomed me, naked and you clothed me. … I assure you, as often as you did it for one of my least brothers, you did it for me. ’ Jesus is saying that when we help strangers in need by clothing them, feeding them, or providing them shelter, it is as though we are doing these deeds for God himself. Therefore, a state which provides help to the people who need it (who are of course s trangers to the people who run it) is one which serves God. What allowed us to create the welfare state (which epitomises the aforementioned ‘God-serving ’ state), were advances in economic theory which allowed for economic development without which welfare programs we see today would not be possible. Therefore, economics was essential in allowing the modern world to be consistent with religion.
Faith in a religion or a religious system understandably falls when a religious institution fails to, or at least gives the impression of failing to uphold the beliefs of the religion it
is supposed to represent. Adam Smith gave a significant example of this: ‘the spiritual authority [of the Church] was much weakened when it ceased to be supported by the charity and hospitality of the clergy.’ When the Church failed to be charitable or hospitable, it was acting against the core principles of Christianity, and so support of the Church, and maybe even faith in Christianity fell, which shows that religious institutions which act contrary to their religion’s beliefs are inconsistent and damagin g to religion. Because of the Church’s massive influence historically, it can be argued that by acting in this way, the Church creates a world which is inconsistent with the very religion it represents. Economics enables a world which is consistent with religion, due to its ability to address human needs as previously explained, therefore economics is vital in creating a world which is consistent with religion, perhaps more so than religious institutions are.
In a world where human needs are not correctly or sufficiently addressed due to an imperfect economic system, people are forced to focus on matters of money and material goods, and on how they can address their needs themselves; they seldom have time to give thought to matters of faith, theology or philosophy, as they have more important things to think about – such as how they will afford their next meal or heating bill. A perfect, or at least very good economic system can give enough slack in these matters and ease the pressure on people, to allow their focus to shift to the matters they previously did not have time for – as John Maynard Keynes put it in the introduction to his Essays in Persuasion: it would allow ‘the arena of the heart and head to be … reoccupied by our real problems – the problems of ... creation and behaviour and religion.’ The time and freedom people receive to truly think hard about their faith and matters of philosophy and religion as a result of an efficient economic system is of gr eat benefit to religion: it fosters truer believers – people who now consciously believe in their belief system after putting thought into it, as opposed to following a system blindly with no thought, perhaps due to societal pressure or upbringing. Of course, the opposite effect will also occur: after putting great thought into the matter, many people may be reaffirmed in their instinctive, but previously unjustified atheism, and some may even become atheists after being the previously mentioned passive, unquestioning believers. However, even this effect creates a stronger religion than exists otherwise. A religion is stronger and truer with fewer, but conscious and deliberate believers, than with more, but purely nominal or passive believers, as the aim of a religion is to foster a genuine, deep and conscious belief in a deity – something which does not exist in the case of blind, passive following. Good economics creates the opportunity for thought and reflection on matters of religion, which leads to a stronger, truer (albeit potentially lessfollowed) religion.
In response to my explanation of how economics solves a part of the problem of evil by reducing the incentive for some types of sin, one can argue that evil is massively prominent in the world despite us not living in a state of nature, and that the majori ty of sin is not caused by a competition for scarce resources, but for completely unrelated reasons. However, I am by no means asserting that economics somehow entirely removes sin from the world, nor am I claiming that it provides a solution to the proble m of evil which theologians have grappled with for millennia. I am arguing that economics supports religion and its teachings by removing one element of sin from the world, and it partly solves the problem of evil by, again, removing one element of evil from the world. Most importantly, economics eliminates the existence of a Hobbesian state of nature – a state which is completely inconsistent with religion as mentioned earlier –regardle ss of whether or not it fully eliminates sin and evil from the world. It is not necessary for economics to fully eliminate evil in order for the reduction in evil it does achieve to strengthen and support religion.
I have quoted the Bible in support of economics being vital for religion, but it can also be used in support of an opposing argument. The famous teaching of Jesus that ‘it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than a rich man to enter the kingdom of God’ appears in three different gospels – Matthew 19:24, Mark 10:25, and Luke 18:25. This seems to directly contradict this essay’s argument: it appears to suggest that economics cannot be consistent with religion, as a man striving for wealt h cannot enter heaven. However, more in -depth thought reveals the opposite to be true. As discussed earlier, good economics allows the focus of people to be taken from matters of money and wealth, and toward matters of religion. People strive for wealth in order to satisfy their needs, and good economics allows for their needs to be met without them particularly focusing on money. Therefore, with good economics, which requires extensive study of the discipline, fewer people will be preoccupied with wealth, than would in a situation where the study of economics is neglected, and needs are not being met. Economics is not equivalent to striving for wealth.
Economics has contributed immensely to shaping modern civilization, be it through improvements in quality of life and technology, or the unfortunate inequality some people face in some parts of the world to this day. However, despite what Adam Smith, and perhaps Nietzsche, would argue, religion is not obsolete in this ‘modern civilization.’ Developments in economics have allowed the world to stay true to the Bible’s teachings, through allowing basic needs to be universally met in many countries through the welfare state. Furthermore, developments in economics allow for human focus to shift from the purely material and monetary, towards more conceptual studies, such as theology, and give people the freedom to consider, develop, and justify their theological worldview, which gives rise to truer, conscious believers (or non -believers).
However, most importantly, economics completely eliminates the state of nature through eradicating the competition for scarce resources. No faith, religion, or God, or even concept of such can exist in a state where people are constantly distrusting, fighting and killing each other, just to survive – a benevolent God is inconsistent to such a state, and no faith in one could possibly develop. As a result, economics provides a solid, necessary ground for the concept of a benevolent God and faith, which makes it absolutely necessary for religion. ‘The gradual improvements in .. manufactures’ have not destroyed religion, despite Smith’s conviction. They have strengthened it.
Is Descartes’ Trademark Argument Successful?
Samuel Frangi
Rene Descartes was a French philosopher born in 1596, Touraine, France well known for his ‘Cogito Ergo Sum ’ and Cartesian Dualism. But Descartes is less well known for his Trademark Argument, where he sets out an ontological path to prove the existence of God. In this essay, I will be examining why Descartes’ proof for God fails by seeing where it went wrong and asking if it could it be saved.
Here is the argument firstly. In his Meditations, Descartes, rather than looking at the external physical world called formal reality, only believes in the ideas in his head called objective reality. The idea of a leprechaun and a cat are both just as real in objective reality with no apparent fact of wh ich is real or not. But bring them into formal reality and we know that leprechauns don’t exist, and cats do. Remember these two types of reality as they will become important later.
Descartes then writes that there are levels of reality in a scale, placed depending on how “more real” they are than the last. This was the first theory in his argument : the idea of Degrees of Reality. At the bottom of this scale, is the lowest degree of existence, modes. These are properties of objects that give them a certain description or necessity of its existence. An example could be the roundness of a ball or the softness o f the bed I am currently sitting on. These modes are only real if they have an object by which to refer. Softness is only real if there is a bed to have that softness or a ball to have its roundness. These modes logically depend on a greater and more real substance to exist ; you can’t have the mode softness floating around without applying to a substance. This makes them the lowest degree of reality.
Above modes are finite substances. These have a greater degree of reality than modes as they have an independent substance that can exist without needing to apply to something more real such as modes. These substances don’t have to be physical substances such as balls and beds but could be our body and mind. The highest degree of reality is the infinite substance, more real than any other finite substance that can solely exist without any other thing. For Descartes, this is what God is , the highest degree of reality, something that can completely exist above all else. All powerful, all knowing and everlasting. All this idea of a scale is interesting but how does it prove that the infinite substance actually exists? The next argument will do just that.
Descartes presumes that a cause must have as much reality or the same properties as its effect. This means the bed’s existence causes the mode of softness to exist but not the
other way round. A finite substance can cause finite substance to exist – for example, a human can cause a baby to exist – while finite substances are not able to cause an infinite substance to exist. This is proven as a finite substance must have the same mode as the mode it’s causing. Two stones rubbing together as a finite property creates heat, a mode, and these stones rubbing together could also create a fire, another finite property. Another example could be strawberries that have a property of sweetness creates a strawberry tart that would also have a property of sweetness. This is his Casual Adequacy Principle.
Now move onto the preposition of ideas and apply this to the principle. Ideas, as Descartes says, are modes with the lowest level of reality and they are created by the mind, a higher level of reality, a finite substance as we have learnt. Ideas are object ive reality but every idea we have must have been in the image of formal reality.
Take an apple for instance. The idea of an apple is in our mind, but our mind was only able to manage to come up with this objective reality apple by seeing an apple in real life, in formal reality. Now take this entire argument and shift it up the sale of realness. Our idea of God is a mode in objective reality but, using Descartes Casual Adequacy Principle, this idea must have a cause, in formal reality. All idea s that are finite substances, such as beds and animals ,will exist because of us seeing them. But the idea of God is not a finite substance, in fact it is an infinite substance, far more real than us.
Therefore our understanding of the word ‘God’ could only exist if God exists in formal reality. As far as Descartes is concerned, this means that we have as valid proof for God’s existence. The name of this argument comes from the idea that God would ‘trademark ’ us with the idea of him, just like a craftsman would trademark his work with his name.
Now we have the argument, let us answer the first question of this essay : is the Trademark Argument successful? We first must look at who Descartes influences were and where he got these ideas to know where he went wrong.
Those reading this argument would think that this ontological argument is rather like another ontological argument from four hundred years prior, Saint Anslem of Canterbury’s argument for God. This is the idea that if god is the greatest being and that things outside of our mind are greater than things inside our mind meaning for God to be the most powerful being he would have to exist outside of our mind and exist.
This was disproven by a monk Gaunilo of Marmoutiers who made the point :
“If I was to think of the greatest island there is, it wouldn’t be the greatest island if it didn’t exist in my head, therefore the greatest island exists!”
This is of course an absurd idea and directly proves the flaws in Anselm’s proof for God. All Anselm’s argument does is show that if God exists then God would be the greatest being but nowhere in the argument does it say that God actually does exist. This is where the two arguments differ. Anselm’s is the fact that God is the being that is the most powerful, as he writes in his Proslogion:
“God, is that the greater that cannot be conceived”
This idea of God is problematic, as shown by Gaunilo’s island objection. Gaunilo argued that if Anselm’s logic were valid, it could be used to “prove” the existence of a perfect island, simply by defining it as the greatest conceivable island. But clearly, this does not mean such an island actually exists. The logic only shows that we can conceive of something as the greatest, not that it must exist in reality. In the same way, Anselm’s argument defines God as the greatest conceivable being, but it does not logically follow that such a being must exist.
This problematic idea of God is rather different from what Descartes says of him in his Meditations on First Philosophy. In his fifth meditation he says,
“I am not free to think of God without existence, that is, a supremely perfect being without a supreme perfection”
This view is not about God as the greatest being but ,more as a perfect being that must exist. For it is only if God exists that we would have an idea of this perfection, as we have just learnt in his Trademark Argument.
As many of you will know, Descartes was a Platonist and was deeply influenced by many of Plato’s ideas, the most notable of which are the degrees of reality. Plato had his theory of Forms, which for him were the highest degree of reality followed by numbers and then at the bottom, the material world. Plato’s notion of God – as received by the Judaeo -Christian tradition – is rather similar to Descartes by viewing him as the standard of goodness, a perfect being as the single creator of the universe. This ontological view was extremely strong among medieval philosophers along with Aquinas and Anselm, as we have seen.
We will now move onto the problems of the Trademark Argument and where it failed. The first problem concerns a central theory undergirding the argument: the theory of degrees of reality. Descartes says that objects and ideas can somehow be more real than another and that God is above us all as the most ‘real’ thing there is. This is quite an absurd statement as things either things are real or not, there is not an in between on
some sort of scale. How can something exist more or less than us and what would it mean for something to be more real than us? The English philosopher Thomas Hobbes criticises Descartes for not making clear how the idea of a flower could be less real than a flower itself. For something to be less real it would have to not exist and for something to be more real it would have to exist. Yes – we agree that, ideas, ourselves and infinite substances all exist. But how would we go to prove that existing is on a scale from top to bottom rather than everything existing on the same plane of reality? Maybe there is not a scale on things being real but rather a scale on the amount of experience needed to recollect the ideas of these things. An example is that it could be far easier to experience the idea of Niagara Falls in your mind from watching it on TV. But with all the queues and travelling it’s harder to experience the real finite substance of actually going there and seeing it. The same principle happens with how hard it is to experience God, the infinite substance which only a few biblical prophets were able to have.
An even more disagreeable notion in Descartes argument is the Casual Adequacy Principle. The idea that a cause’s effect must have the same properties or reality is something we know is not true and there are many arguments to disprove it. Descartes scholar Jim Cottingham gave the example of Helium, an element with rather different properties from the Hydrogen atoms fused to make it. French mathematician and music theorist Marin Mersenne gave another example of how the sun and the rain are not living things yet help create animals that are living things . (Funnily enough Descartes tried to get round this by saying animals weren’t actually alive but were biological robots that had no feelings or emotions.)
The German philosopher Gottfrid Leibniz made a point that Descartes never mentioned on whether there was any proof that a perfect being could exist. As humans we are imperfect beings yet we have some idea of what perfection is. When we say “The perfect omelette” we think of what a maximumly good omelette would look like. But this “perfect omelette” is made up of imperfections. The idea of a perfectly circular omelette has come to us from many attempts of making imperfect oval shaped omelettes and the perfect seasoning comes from many imperfect seasonings of either too salty or too peppery. And this “perfect omelette” is merely an idea and something unreachable from our human imperfections. The human idea of God will never be as perfect as the godly idea of god.
The cause of us having the idea of the humanly imperfect idea of God does not, as Descartes thinks, come directly from God. Whenever something is created, logic decides an idea of something greater. If a tower is built, it gives us the idea of a taller tower and then the maxim tallest tower. The idea of God was not given by us from God
but is rather just simple God. If a being can exist then there is an idea of a greater being and then a maxim being, God.
My overall conclusion to whether or not the Trademark Argument succeeds is that it does not. The key principles that Descartes uses to prove his argument (of Casual Adequacy Degrees of Reality) all fail to be true making any foundations to the argument impossible. My ultimate view is that it takes a new view on the Ontological Argument and improves Anslem’s argument but doesn’t execute a valid argument for God .
Is ‘God’ Dead in Japan?
A Reflection on Japan’ Shifting Religious Landscape
Shuaib Magamedov
Often, when one thinks about the idea and existence of God, they picture the popular Christian belief that has fuelled European society for many centuries. However, in order to understand the history of change in societal faith, one must separate themselve s from Eurocentric perspectives and find new angles so as to become better aware of a more global, historical change in belief and religious practice. By focusing on a complete contrast in religion as we understand it, and now one of the most secular count ries in the world, how can one better understand the decrease in faith of God within Japan? With a completely different history of religion, did Japan still suffer from the same decline in faith seen in Europe, or was it able to successfully uphold its rel igious traditions?
Firstly, in order to understand Japan’s change in faith, we must look at Europ e in comparison. The decline of Christianity in Europe was a result of many changing social values such as an increased emphasis on science, individualism, and multiculturalism. However, another key factor was the weakened control of Churches at the time. Historically, Churches held significant influence over law, education, and daily life, but as secular governments rose, the church’s authority diminished. Scandals within religious institutions further tainted trust, whilst freedom of thought and expression reduced the church’s ability to dictate power, leading to widespread religious decline.
A look in Japan’s history shows that its initial form of religion was Shinto , which formed in prehistoric Japan up until the 6th century when Buddhism was introduced. In Shinto, faith in a single divine being is not recognised but instead is rooted in the belief of deities (kami). Kami can be anything from strangely shaped trees to an enormous boulder, or even humans. It was later said by the Yamato clan (later known as the Imperial family) in the 6th century, just as Shintoism was fading, that its leader, the emperor, was a descendent of their protector kam i, the sun goddess Amaterasu. Up until the introduction of Buddhism, power had predominantly resided in the emperor where control could be easily used in the name of religion, similar to the rise of the Churches ’ power in Europe.
However, as Buddhism became more mainstream, having been introduced from Korea and China, a significant stress was placed on individuality and personal relief from suffering rather than the cultural assimilation of Shintoism. The Japanese population were first attracted by Buddhist art and the prospect of gaining closer ties with the more advanced Chinese empire, however they soon struggled to grasp the philosophy behind
the complex religion. This resulted in a small elite group to be formed to learn Chinese (Japan’s first written language) and some of them began to study Chinese Buddhist texts, as some scholars and members of the clergy now do in Japan.
Despite having adopted a religion that surrounded itself in self-reflection and perfection, Japan would still find itself under a long period of wars and conflicts over politics and land. During Feudal Japan, where the emperor’s authority was weakened and power instead resided in the leaders of different clans (daimyos), Buddhism became especially popular amongst the samurai. They used it to adopt a moral code ( bushido) based on Buddhist philosophies and practices. However, this didn’t stop the conflicts th at ensued, especially during the Sengoku period. Many Japanese Buddhists at the time were tired of the ongoing conflict that was dividing Japan and referred to this era as Mappō, a period characterised by degeneracy and the loss of Dharma. It was in response to this that peasants, merchants and even some samurai banded together to form a small militant Buddhist group known as the Ikkō -Ikki. This group protected many shrines and monasteries through many instances of violence, even over throwing the ruling sa murai government in the Kanga Province to establish a ‘people’s government’ under Buddhist leadership. This showed how despite a growing period of conflict and lack of proper faith, small groups were able to rise up and uphold the values of Buddhism. Howev er, this resilience wouldn’t last long.
The outlook on the nation’s religion took a different route. Due to the rising concern of Christian influence, the Tokugawa shogunate later required all Japanese families to register at Buddhist temples to prove they were not Christian, ensuring state cont rol over religion. It exposed the rising paranoia amongst those higher in power and the push for totalitarian power and control rather than peace and faith. Despite being on different parts of the globe, the rising use of religion as a way to control the masses in both Europe and Japan could show how corruption often overpowers faith. Even with such peaceful values, Buddhism was still manipulated in the same way as Christianity was, showing the similar decline in faith.
This attitude with religion continued till the late Edo period, where interest in native Shinto beliefs grew once again, foreshadowing Japan’s later nationalist use of religion. The later Meiji government elevated Shinto as the official state ideology, where a State Shinto was established, emphasising the emperor’s worship. Many Buddhist temples were forcibly shut down to be converted into Shinto shrines, putting an end to individual faith both literally and metaphorically. However, although there was an increase in variety of religious practises within Japan, such as Christian and later Islamic influences, this was still a small minority of the nation. Assimilation regarding the emperor’s worship very much became the centrepiece of one’s faith at the time.
The final straw in terms of Japanese faith finally came just as World War II ended. In 1945, after Japan’s surrender, later US occupation would soon force the emperor to publicly renounce his divine status, becoming the turning point that resulted in many people giving up the Shinto faith. This allowed influences of globalisation and modernisation on Japan’s religious landscape. With the later rapid development of technology and urbanisation in the 20th and 21st centuries, traditional religious institutions struggled to maintain the same importance they once had. The increased exposure to Western ideologies, scientific advancements, and a fast -paced consumerist culture led many Japanese individuals to prioritise practicality and career advancement over religious devotion. This in turn affected the younger generations today, where they now often view religious practices as outdated, engaging with them only during key cultural events rather than as a consistent part of their daily lives. This shift towards a more individualistic and materialistic worldview reflects a broader, global trend where faith is often overshadowed by modern progress and the pursuit of personal success. It shows how the problem affects all types of society, including Japan’s, despite bein g much more seclusive and different.
Today, Japan has become much more secular. Without a faith to surround itself in, many people turned to culture rather than concrete faith. Many shrines were kept intact for people to pray to, but it became less about faith and more about tradition, where they were mainly visited during festivals such as New Year’s. When asked, the average Japanese person will most likely say that they are atheist or just don’t follow a religion, showing the current lack of attachment to a religion or faith.
However, this isn’t necessarily the case. Visiting shrines, celebrating Obon ( a festival respecting spiritual ancestors that have passed), having Shinto weddings and Buddhist funerals are all example of a deep rooted and national form of faith. Whilst the general population doesn’t identify as religious, could this be considered as a different kind of faith, rather than a decline in faith? Faith simply means to have complete trust and belief in something, whether it be God, deities or material things. There fore, the journey of Japan’s religious background should not be viewed as a gradual descent into a faithless society, but rather as an evolving history that sparks new changes in the way people choose to express their spirituality and faith in things beyond humanly comprehendible. Although the Japanese do not believe in a holy being, the trust that things will work out if one behaves morally or the respect and gratitude for things handed to us becomes the core of the population’s lives, much like the core o f many religions within the world. The moral principles still remain the same whilst the outer shell of practice continues to evolve and change.
As we’ve seen, historically, Japan was once religious, particularly seen during feudal and early modern periods where original Shinto and Buddhist values shaped governance and daily life. The later corrupt use of religion as a form of control ultimately ca used a gradual but constant decline in national faith, up until the end of the Second World War. However, modern Japan, despite being largely secular, is not faithless. With religion functioning more as a cultural tradition rather than a deeply held faith, it raises the question, is decline in faith is inevitable within societies, or can we find faith under a new form of practice?
Jazz: God Through a Modern Medium
Tasir Shariff
Can Jazz be viewed as God’s gift? I would argue that if we put on the lens of natural revelation, it certainly can. Our reason, our universal sense of moral law and our superiority over animals are regarded as such and so I would make the case that Jazz, an intricate, revolutionary genre of music, can do so just as much. In this sense, we must consider specifically how this could be proven, and therefore I have put together a group of undeniable parallels between Jazz and natural revelation, proving both th e beauty of Jazz and that religion is far from dead in the modern world. In this essay I will cover three topics: the internal dialogue of jazz, the life of Bill Evans and Gospel’s influence on Jazz, all of which prove modern music’s place in Christianity.
A recurring theme in natural revelation is reason. Aquinas speaks about the ‘light of natural reason, ’ C.S Lewis speaks of our imagination being an ‘organ of meaning’ and Kant derives from reason a Universal Moral Law. Lewis’ reference of imagination is perhaps the closest form of natural revelation as reason as to the one I myself aim to present. This innate sense of what is right to you specifically, Paul’s ‘spirit rather than the letter of the law’ can transcend to jazz in the form of improvisation. Louis Armstrong said, ‘what we play is life, ’ what we play is an extension of our soul as expressed by Miles Davis and Quincy Jones, both of whom tried to live by the proverb that what you play is only as good as who you are. This implies that improvisation, the extension of our soul, is a form of the Holy Spirit in some senses, as from a bystander's perspective, what can be more sacred than an expression of humanity through a medium of music ?
With this in mind we can take the divinity of jazz further by conveying relationships with God, personal ones importantly, through improvisation with regards to two examples. Firstly, Bill Evans’ album Conversations with Myself portrays this entirely: he is playing two piano parts, and we could argue that it seems although the first is the extension of his soul and the second a response to it, an internal dialogue with God. ‘Peace Piece’ also achieves this to some extent; the cho rds in the left hand cadenced responded to by the upper melodies. Secondly, we see the same theme with Miles Davis who improvised sometimes by listening to the melody he thought up in his head, waiting for a space, and playing in that space, meaning his improvisations were always a response to something only he could hear in his mind, a response to the divine.
With the convincing point of internal dialogue secured, we can move on to the influence of gospel music on jazz. Firstly, it must be established what gospel music is and why its effect on jazz would make jazz divine. Gospel music is rooted in African Ameri can
religious tradition, blending spirit, hymns, and blues. Themes of the divine, salvation, love, praise, and forgiveness are common, and it is usually performed at Church every Sunday. However, it is more what jazz does with gospel than how gospel influences jazz that cements the divinity of jazz , as jazz personalizes gospel music. I could go on for pages about the stepwise nature of gospel, rich harmonies that push diatonic chords to their limit and the beauty of suspense, all incredibly prominent in jazz – but importantly, as Christian is a personal religion, so is jazz. Briefly, by a personal religion I refer to how Jesus placed emphasis on the ability of any person, not a group or culture, to be loving, such as the Good Samaritan or his personalized version of the Ten Commandments which focus on internal actions. We might look to Ray Charles for an example. While he does not strictly fall into the genre of jazz perfectly, he takes the shell of gospel music and personalises it, creating lyrics about sufferin g and love which reflects the essence of Christianity. Cannonball Adderly in Joe Zawinul's composition of ‘Mercy, Mercy, Mercy’ gives a personal, church-like sermon on mercy from his heart and Freddie Freeloader, a blues and therefore gospel-derived piece perfectly conveys the personal nature of Davis,’ Coltrane’s, Kelly’s, and Cannonball’s music.
Finally, we can observe the life of Bill Evans, who though not Christian himself, embodied the Christian message in unforeseen ways. To make this argument, however, we must establish that the Christian God is a God of the suffering, a personal suffering. The lame man, Lazarus, the idea of being judged on one’s individual life and God’s own death on the cross, all point to a God who rests in the individual man’s suffering. Bill Evans, in this sense of suffering, was incredibly burdened. His brother, whom he valued perhaps most of all died of suicide caused by schizophrenia. Scott LaFaro, a bassist who he treasured incredibly died in his twenties in a car crash. His first wife Elaine, a drug addict like Evans, threw herself in front of a train after learning of her unrequited love. His second wife divorced him due to his addiction problems which des troyed his family and, in the end, his life. Of course, I am not arguing that he did not cause these things, but one can pity the suffering he endured. The point is that this being, through all his suffering, achieved a sound on the piano that I would argu e come the closest to divine that music possibly can. His celebrated songs or performances of ‘Waltz for Debby,’ ‘My Foolish Heart,’ his performance on ‘Kind of Blue’ just as intricate as ‘Turn Out The Stars,’ ‘Like Someone In Love,’ ‘Time Remembered’ and ‘Once Upon A Summertime.’ This beauty in a sense shows that jazz resounds in this case with a God of Suffering.
In conclusion, I would argue so far that not only is jazz a form of natural revelation, but it proves the importance of natural revelation in the sense that natural revelation in this way is more prominent and useful in the modern world. Ancient, pessimistic arguments of Augustine and flawed nature fall short because , of course, Augustine never heard
jazz! Therefore, when the statement that God is Dead in the modern world is made, he has not died, just simply expresses himself to the culture of the period, much like the deep meanings conveyed once by literature have partly transcended to film.
The Rise of Christianity on Social Media: A Hollow
Phenomenon?
Felix Bodsworth
The average internet user spends 2 hours and 23 minutes a day on social media. There are over 5 billion internet users worldwide. Social media platforms dictate, via content creators and influencers, what people wear, buy, eat, and even vote for. Their outreach is unprecedented in human history. And it seems that this outreach is not being ignored by religion – a study in 2018 showed that almost a third of Christians shared their faith with others via social media, and the number is likely to be even higher now.
This outreach is further illustrated by the proven influence of many Christian sites on social media – pastors Joel Osteen and T.D. Jakes have a combined follower count of over 15 million on Twitter, built up in the few years of creating content for social media, a number astronomically larger than their regular megachurch attendances, the culmination of thousands of years of spreading the gospel. Social media is a powerful tool for Christianity, and is being used as one.
But the topic is not that simple – while God is undoubtedly experiencing a revival in a Christian sense, on the surface, thanks to social media, whether it can really be seen as a resurgence is a controversial topic, one which I will be attempting to tackl e:
First and foremost, the most forthright argument against online evangelism’s worth: the aspect of effort. The difference between a press of a button to show your dedication to God and the commitment involved in weekly church visits is clear, and, many would argue, is a fatal flaw in social media as a tool for evangelism. Social media’s accessibility and effortlessness eliminates the reverence shown by the effort put into real world, i.e. church, worship, therefore somewhat negating the positive aspects of social media from an evangelist view – it is easy to reach many with small effort, but that aspect of small effort then decreases the possibility of the person on the other side of the screen really engaging with the ideas in the way planned by God, illustrated with Matthew 18:20 ‘For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am in the midst of them’. Effectively, the majority who are converted, convinced, or even interested by the growing swathes of Christian content online are also held back by the sim plicity of social media, as it gives them an option to learn about God without really interacting with the true methods of doing so, meeting, especially at places seen as holy.
This is further exacerbated by the difference in levels of engagement online and in a place of worship – being in Church is a gripping experience, where as well as the morality of God and Christianity confronting you fully through the ever-present spiritual surroundings, forcing the attendee into a higher degree of interaction with the
actual ideas than, say, someone on a phone where they can scroll, turn off, or look away from the content at any time, the communal aspect of Church also encourages a somewhat increased participation, whether that be through a sense of pressure to fit in, or just through respectfulness to the other worshippers.
However, there is undisputably still value in social media as an evangeliser, despite the aforementioned lack of engagement, as a beginning to a belief in God. This belief was mirrored by multiple Christian social media sites that I conducted interviews wi th on this topic: one site said that the value of online evangelism lay in its outreach, and that it was arguably one of the most important religious revivals, due to its accessibility and ability to reach those who would, without it, never set foot in a C hurch. Another replicated this view, though caveating it with the statement ‘social media alone can’t replace the depth and transformation that comes from real -world church revival’. These views echo a familiar Christian sentiment, along with multiple bibl e verses, such as Romans 10:17 ( Faith comes from hearing the message’), that social media may not quite be the medium for a full-scale revival of God, one that proves Nietzsche wrong once and for all, but it is also far from a false dawn.
But, even if social media is adequately engaging to represent attendance in Church to a certain extent, there is still the morally ambiguous ground over whether using social media at all is a suitable form of evangelism: The quantity of content that could be considered unholy, and hence working against the progress made by evangelists online, on social media sites is astronomical and is exponentially increasing with the developing of AI. This includes pornographic pictures and videos, anti-Christian or prosatanist sentiments and more.
The result of this is that when someone uses social media, there is an increasingly, frighteningly large chance that they will encounter some of these anti -Christian ideas, and so, by using social media as an evangelising outlet, you are increasing people’s dependence on social media to gain religious education and content. This in turn increases people’s intake of these ideas deemed sinful, a sinful act in itself. So, by using these sites, is God really being revived, or does the increased exposure to harm ful ideas that inevitably come with increased usage of social media sites cancel any progress made out? And, should Christians even be using or promoting social media use at all?
The best illustrator of the answer to the moral dilemma of social media as an evangelising tool is Aquinas’ Principle of Double Effect – this states that a person is morally permitted to do an act which has both a good and evil effect, as long as:
• There is no other way to get the good effect – it is safe to assume that this is true in this case, as no other tool has the outreach of social media, so cannot replicate its good effect of evangelising power.
• The act itself is morally good or neutral – the act of posting itself is neutral at worst unless accompanied by malicious intentions.
• The good effect must be greater than or equal to the evil effect – by converting the user, Christians believe that they are sparing them from eternal damnation, or at least a spell in Purgatory, for Catholics, which surely outweighs any trauma or corruption from harmful content seen in the process, at least in the long run.
• The good effect must not be obtained from the evil effect, it must flow directly from the action – again, this assumption is a fair one to make.
With this in mind, it seems fair to assume that again, the answer to the question of the moral dilemma of social media evangelism is somewhere in a murky, grey middle ground – social media can have very corrupting effects, and by posting and using the apps, these effects can be exacerbated, however, it is a tool too good to be passed up on by evangelists, essentially, and for those evangelists, the good fundamentally outweighs the bad.
But the entire argument of Aquinas’ principle is brought crashing down with one condition – intent – if the act of spreading the gospel on social media is not done with the right intentions, such as reaching others to save them, then the act is not necessa rily good. This seems irrelevant – who would post Christian content if not to introduce Christ to others? However, in an age of identity politics, where religion, especially Christianity, is hijacked as a political tool by many, it is critically significan t.
A prime example of the dangers of this is the online spat between Rory Stewart and JD Vance, where the ex-MP turned podcast host called out the vice -president on claims that the correct interpretation of the biblical command of ‘love thy neighbour’ was one that incorporated the Aquinian idea of ordo amoris; that is, love should be ordered, and hence, countries should not feel an obligation or moral need to provide foreign aid. While this was subsequently slapped down by many theologians, most notably Pope Francis in a letter to American bishops, it shows the clear danger of extremist politics using religion, especially Christianity, as a too l.
With heightened extremist politics, many politicians turn to appealing to people’s backgrounds and beliefs to win their votes, and in a climate of heightened awareness for minorities’ identities, there are large numbers of people in majorities in western countries, especially Christians, who feel increasingly in need of recognition of their identities. This was illustrated to me, when, during my research for this essay, I
interviewed many Christian social media channels, and found the vast majority of them posted political content, lots of which was intertwined with religious content, and all of which was campaigning for the Republican party, or views shared with the party, leading up to the federal election.
While it would be wrong to say that only the far-right utilise identity politics – it is also a trademark of the left – undoubtedly, the far-right use religion as a political tool much more frequently. And so, the question arises: is this Christian content rise we see online a result of a revival of God in the twenty-first century or simply a rise in extremism?
The answer to this question, yet again, probably lies somewhere in the middle – while the people posting this content are most likely good Christians, who do not mean to try and exploit God or Christianity as a whole, in some respects, that is what they are doing. This leaves us with an action that causes both good and bad results (both unquantifiable, of course), done by both good and bad people, with both good and bad intentions, when we consider the morality of social media as an evangeliser.
It is clear that there is no right or wrong answer to this issue of morality, however hard we look for it, however, I believe that a judgement, as long as it is taken with certain reservations, can be come to:
A key issue that must be kept in mind when concluding this question is the performative nature of social media – even if not intended, the dopamine highs that likes and follows bring are addictive, and can lead to a possibility of people continuing to post purely for those benefits, rather than their original message. St. Benedict, a 6 th century monk was an advocate of humility amongst Christians, saying that only God could take the role of a teacher – he would see posting on social media as a clear violation of this. A more contemporary theologian, Soren Kierkegaard seconded this line of thinking, saying that what Christianity needed was less admirers of Christ and more imitators.
And so, I believe, that if you weigh the considerable pros and cons of each side of the argument up, that in the slight majority of cases, posting on social media to spread Christianity may not be the most moral method
However, the main question still remains – is it a hollow phenomenon?
While it does have moral drawbacks, social media evangelism is undoubtedly the most effective method of conversion today and will be for a long while, and I believe that much of the criticism it receives is as a result of a natural human instinct to reject change: CS Lewis illustrated this instinct when warning against chronological snobbery
– that is, favouring a new thing simply because it is new, and it has been prevalent in every evangelist breakthrough in Christianity’s history, most notably the invention of the printing press; many Church leaders saw the unregulated printing of bibles, especially in a language that wasn’t Latin as a direct road to heresy, and it has turned out to be one of the biggest steps in the history of Christianity, in terms of evangelism, and bible education.
In simple terms, many reject social media as an evangeliser because it is new. It may well replace church going almost entirely, just as the translation of the bible decreased the power of the clergy. But, maybe that is how a religion evolves, and it would be naive to resist the inevitable.
The morality of social media may be controversial, but many Christians would argue that any negatives are cancelled out by the fact that you are spreading the faith. And so, overall, in my opinion, the main question over whether the rise of God on social media will be a hollow phenomenon is the issue of the faith being used as a tool, be it for politics or followers. Kierkegaard warned against the dangers of performative faith. In a day and age where faith can be appreciated with a click of a button, perhap s the real question is not whether social media can or should be used to spread faith, but for what means the faith is being spread.
Are
Humans Inherently Good or Evil?
Ranvir Bhandari
The question of whether humans are born good or evil has stirred passion debate for centuries In a recent development, some modern theologians, echoing Nietzsche’s provocative claim that ‘God is dead, ’ have supposed that when man killed God, he also killed himself. Without God, they suggest, there is no longer a coherent basis for believing in an innate human nature, whether good or evil. Yet the question of human nature does not rest solely within the bounds of theology. It intersects with theological anthropology, but also extends into rational, empirical, and psychological domains. In what follows, I will survey this exciting range of perspectives before offering my ow n.
Ancient Philosophical Views
Aristotle believed that morality is not innate but cultivated through experience and personal development. In his view, humans are born as moral “blank slates,” and their eventual character depends on the choices they make. Similarly, Hindu scriptures such as the Mahabharata and Ramayana suggest that humans are inherently good. Lord Krishna teaches that each person carries a divine spark and has the capacity to align their actions with dharma (righteousness) or stray from it.
Chinese Philosophy
In classical Chinese thought, Confucian scholars offered opposing views. Mengzi (Mencius) argued that humans are naturally good, possessing innate compassion and a sense of justice. He believed this goodness must be nurtured and developed through proper upbringing and self-cultivation. In contrast, Xunzi contended that humans are born selfish and that morality is a social construct acquired through education, discipline, and structure. As he famously put it, “The nature of man is evil; what is good in him is artificial.”
Western Religious Perspectives
In Christian theology, Saint Augustine maintained that humanity was created pure and perfect in the image of a flawless God. However, he believed that original sin – introduced through Adam and Eve’s disobedience – tainted human nature. Redemption, in his view, is possible only through God’s grace and love.
Yet Augustine’s ideas invite challenges. For instance, the omnipotence paradox –‘Can God create a rock so heavy that He cannot lift it? ’ – questions the coherence of God's
all-powerful nature. Furthermore, the existence of Lucifer, a being created by God who chose to rebel, raises questions about divine foreknowledge and the creation of evil.
Thomas Aquinas, another influential Christian thinker, held a more optimistic view. He believed that humans have a natural inclination toward goodness, rooted in reason and divine law. Though he acknowledged the existence of sin, he argued that through fre e will, moral effort, and divine guidance, people could achieve virtue. Still, this optimism is challenged by the story of Adam and Eve. If humans are inclined toward good, why did they defy God so easily? This suggests that curiosity and temptation traits not aligned with inherent goodness are deeply embedded in human nature.
Enlightenment philosopher Jean -Jacques Rousseau offered a different lens. He claimed that humans are born innocent and are later corrupted by society. “Man is born free, and everywhere he is in chains,” he famously wrote, arguing that societal structures d istort our natural morality. However, one could argue that societal advancement particularly in science and discovery can enrich, rather than corrupt, human potential.
Rationalist and Empiricist Views
René Descartes believed that humans are born with innate ideas, including a moral sense and the concept of God. He saw the mind as a reflection of divine perfection and a source of inherent goodness. In contrast, Ludwig Wittgenstein challenged the very framing of the question. He believed that concepts like “good” and “evil” are shaped by language and social context, not fixed truths, making universal answers elusive.
Empiricists like John Locke argued that humans are born as tabula rasa blank slates shaped entirely by experience and environment. David Hume took this further, suggesting that reason plays a minimal role in human behaviour, which is primarily driven by emotion and social conditioning.
Psychological Perspectives
In psychology, Sigmund Freud proposed that humans are born with self -serving instincts (the id), and that morality only develops through social influence (the superego). B.F. Skinner, a behaviourist, similarly denied inherent morality, emphasizing instead that behaviour is conditioned by external stimuli rewards and punishments shape what we perceive as moral or immoral.
A Modern Reflection: The Case of Adolf Hitler
A particularly haunting modern example is Adolf Hitler. While his actions represent some of the darkest chapters in human history, accounts from those close to him
describe a more nuanced personal demeanour gentle, even affectionate toward his dog, Blondi. Yet he personally killed her in his final days, underscoring the extreme contradictions in human behaviour. His life raises a disturbing question: Was Hitler born evil, or was he made so by trauma, ideology, and circumstance? While some argue that he was a product of his environment, others believe he exemplifies the potential for pure malevolence in humanity.
Enduring Question and Counterpoints
This debate continues to be shaped by several key tensions:
• Nature vs. Nurture : Are we born flawed, or do our environments shape us?
• Moral Relativism: As Wittgenstein proposed, is morality objective, or is it relative to culture and language?
• Free Will vs. Destiny: If we possess a divine spark or inclination toward goodness, why do we commit evil? Do we truly choose, or is our path prewritten?
• Psychological Determinism: If subconscious desires and social conditioning shape morality, can we be held fully accountable for our actions?
Personal Reflection
In my view, humans are part of God’s creation, each carrying a divine spark. We are born with the potential for both good and evil, and the choices we make shape our destiny. Even Adam and Eve, after their fall, were not abandoned by God. Their story shows that redemption is always possible. Goodness, then, is not automatic – it must be chosen.
Some, like Richard Dawkins, challenge this view from an atheist perspective. He argues that religious morality may be selfish at its core – good deeds are often done with the expectation of divine reward. In contrast, atheists, who reject belief in heaven or hell, may act morally without ulterior motives. While his point is thought -provoking, it assumes that faith and selflessness cannot coexist, a position many believers would dispute.
Conclusion
The question of whether humans are inherently good or bad remains open, nuanced, and deeply personal. Perhaps the truth lies in balance: we are born with the capacity for both, and our experiences, beliefs, and decisions shape who we become. Whether our lives are guided by choice, fate, or divine design, the journey to understanding human nature is as complex as humanity itself.
My Philosophy: Theory, Praxis, Salvation
Theodore Mort
In contemplating the nature of reality, I am drawn to a worldview that combines aspects of materialism with an acknowledgment of the importance of spirituality. I think much of what we see and experience is grounded in the physical world, where our percept ions often reflect the material realities around us. However, I also recognise that life’s complexity and mysteries, that are vitally intertwined with our sense of purpose, remain beyond scientific understanding and require us to look beyond this material stance. Science overgeneralises human behaviour and misrepresents an individual’s nuances, because while they are based on human discoveries that are probably true, they are arrogant to assume we can control the reason behind everything and to even promote that we should feel the need to solve everything and not be content. By contrast religion provides ethical guidelines, and inspire personal reflection and emotional support that creates shared practices and traditions that strengthen communities. I may no t believe that Jesus existed all those years ago and that he did all these miraculous things, but he is a relatable physical embodiment of things that do have importance to living a meaningful life. This balance is crucial for me because I see religion and spirituality as offering ways to grapple with the aspects of existence that defy explanation. While my understanding of the world is heavily informed by science as a means for control over the material before me, the appeal of spirituality lies in its abi lity to provide comfort and meaning where these material explanations falter. So despite being equipped with a scientific understanding of human mortality, my true solace is in an afterlife a realm beyond what is materially perceptible. As a place malleable to my imagination, it would be one where the bonds I shared with others would endure, as in this world I pertain doubt that my memory is capable of adequately providing a testament to what a person meant to me in life. That being said, I find it harder t o reconcile with myself that I am even worthy of a place in that afterlife. I would like to concentrate my meaning in the real world, which I can be more certain of its existence.
Though I embrace a materialist worldview, I also acknowledge that humanity’s heightened capacity for thought and our inherent need for purpose direct us toward explanations that transcend the material world. Spirituality is not necessarily rooted in the certainty of the existence of a higher power, but rather in the human need to find meaning and logic in the face of life’s impermanence. I believe that a balance between acceptance of what we can control and an understanding of life’s deeper, often inexplainable, layers is the healthiest approach to understanding human suffering and mortality. I would also argue in favour of the Buddhist ‘Parable of the Poison Arrow’ when it comes to our creation. In a world like ours, we could spend a lifetime trying to
comprehend everything. Arguably we would be wholly dissatisfied even if we did know the answer, and creation is only one question. Why not save ourselves the trouble and just yield to our present life and leading it well and with greatest satisfaction.
I recognise that I am but a small part of the grand cosmic order - a lowly speck within an incomprehensibly vast universe. It could be argued that the sheer magnitude of the cosmos renders my actions seemingly insignificant. However, rather than feeling discouraged by this realisation, I find comfort in the idea that my actions, though small, are part of a larger, cumulative effort to improve the human experience. I may not be able to effect radical change on a global scale, but I am convinced that small, e veryday acts of kindness, empathy, and service have the potential to make a meaningful difference in the lives of others. This belief helps me situate myself in the world as someone who is contributing, however modestly, to the betterment of humanity. If serving others feels insufficient, values that contribute to our own optimisation like loyalty, honour and dignity should be prioritised, as they guide me in cultivating meaningful connections and interactions with others.
Human nature, I believe, is inherently imperfect, where this imperfection is central to my understanding of the human condition. We are capable of profound kindness, but we are also capable of selfishness, cruelty, and harm. These notions are typically in stark contrast to our ideals. For example, I believe there is value in the principles of pacifism and non-violence, yet I also acknowledge that, in most circumstances, the protection of ourselves and others are inevitable and necessitate the use of force o n the grounds of preservation. This struggle between idealism and pragmatism is a constant obstacle in my worldview, and it compels me to strive for the least destructive path. The challenge lies not in striving for perfection, but in finding balance betwe en our ideals and the practical realities of the world. While I may act as an individual agent of change, I recognise that widespread progress requires collective dedication to similar ideals. Projecting our ideas of perfection onto the world leads to frus tration and disillusionment when reality doesn’t align because of unrealistic expectations. The greatest damage is that it prevents us from appreciating the beauty of imperfection, where imperfection is seen all around us. If we felt inconsolably burdened for every mistake we made, we wouldn’t feel any reason to live. But if we have the mindset that there are things beyond these mistakes to live for, which we do, then that is why humanity persists.
I believe that some existential truths are ultimately elusive and that any understanding we might have of them will always be incomplete. This perspective encourages me to embrace the journey of questioning and growth rather than the pursuit of definitive answers. It is in the exploration of ideas and the continual search for meaning that I find purpose. I recognise that life is full of uncertainties and that, while we may n ever reach
the ultimate truth, the process of seeking it is itself a valuable and fulfilling endeavour. I agree with Stoicism’s focus on self-control and understanding suffering as a natural part of life, but I think it is of better use combating extreme suffering an d uncertainty. Existentialism’s focus on creating meaning in a world without inherent purpose through personal choice is more applicable in day -to-day life. A mixture of acceptance of what we can’t control and ambition to advance our own happinesses and pu rposes is healthiest. Empathy holds the most value because it strengthens love, appreciation and understanding for both family and for those we share a planet with. If we realised we weren’t as dissimilar as some would have us believe, it would be harder to commit such destructive and maligned acts as we see today because we’d acknowledge that we don’t want to experience this ourselves. If humans are tormented by pursuing redemption in vain, each act of empathy is a chip out of the block of guilt.
This leads to my view on fate and randomness. While I acknowledge that there may be some degree of fate or cosmic design at play, I also believe that we possess autonomy as human beings. We have the ability to shape our future through the choices we make. However, I accept that not everything is under our control, and this tension between free will and fate underpins the significance of accepting uncertainty and imperfection in life. It is a central aspect of human nature to strive for certainty and control , but I believe that we must learn to embrace the limitations of our influence and accept that uncertainty is an inherent part of the human experience.
In practice, my ethical framework centres on the principle of doing right by others. If I treat others with kindness, respect, and empathy, I am more likely to live in alignment with my own values. I recognise that people are not perfect and that most flaw s arise from misunderstanding or ignorance rather than malice. Thus, I strive to approach others with compassion, acknowledging that every interaction is an opportunity for growth and understanding. This does not mean I always succeed, but I make a concerted effort to go beyond what feels easy, stretching beyond my comfort zone in order to have a positive impact on others’ lives.
This perspective also shapes my understanding of personal growth. I believe that challenges, while difficult, are essential for development. Life’s hardships offer opportunities to grow stronger, wiser, and more resilient. For example, in dealing with the pain of a personal loss, I have learned to appreciate both the pain and the strength that emerge from it, as they have raised the threshold for what registers as an issue. I do not believe we should shy away from discomfort, for it is through confronting o ur vulnerabilities that we find strength. Similarly, I believe that self -improvement requires a balance of embracing life’s imperfections while continually striving for betterment. It is not about achieving perfection but about recognising the value of effort and humility.
If humanity and the world are so complex, we will all be happiest within ourselves if we know our limitations and are open to learning from what is around us.
The ethical duty to help others is central to my worldview, not only because it aligns with my values of compassion, loyalty, and honour, but also because it reinforces my own personal growth. Helping others achieve their goals is a moral obligation that contributes to the greater good, and it offers an opportunity for me to grow in empathy, self-worth, and resilience. Through acts of kindness and service, I find that I am able to not only help others but also deepen my understanding of myself and the world around me.
My worldview extends kindness and respect not only to humans but also to animals. Although I eat meat, this doesn’t excuse treating animals poorly in daily life. I acknowledge that everyone has limits, but I believe it’s essential to act with compassion toward all sentient beings as though they are all created for freedom and purpose and that it’s all to easy to distance ourselves from that.
In terms of salvation, my view of human mortality is shaped by the belief that life is finite and uncertain. I do not believe in a personal heaven or an afterlife, though I acknowledge that such beliefs provide comfort to many. My focus, therefore, is on living a life that aligns with my values one that emphasises compassion, kindness, and humility. In doing so, I hope to face death with dignity, knowing that I have lived a life true to my principles. If such a realm exists, however, my earthly duties remai n unchanged.
I also recognise that while I may not have control over the larger forces of life and death, I can have an impact on the world through my actions, ideas, and relationships. The memory of a life well-lived, the legacies we leave behind - these are the imprints that transcend our physical existence and don’t require grand monuments or eternal fame, but rather the creation of something that reflects my time here. I don’t expect these things to last forever, nor do I need them to. By striving to maximise the go od I can achieve, I hope to leave behind a positive impact, however small or fleeting it may be.
Ultimately, I view transcendence as found not in the pursuit of immortality or eternal recognition but in the contributions we make to others and to the world. The relationships we form, the ideas we share, and the legacies we create all of these serve as a means of transcending our finite existence. In this way, my philosophy is not about escaping mortality but about living a meaningful life in spite of it. The process of growth, self-discovery, and service to others defines my approach to both life and death, helping me face these challenges with a sense of peace and fulfilment
My Philosophy: Theory, Praxis, Salvation
Anahad Bhatnagar
We live in an imperfect world. We ourselves are imperfect creations (so to readers convinced they are God’s gift to us, I would advise finding something else to read). Therefore, we shouldn’t believe that we have the power to change the imperfections in the world as we see fit, as our definition of perfection is therefore flawed. This logic is a basic axiom of the philosophy that I will attempt to detail in this essay.
Regarding my views of this world, and our place within it, I do have a belief in religion, myself being a Hindu. But my philosophy of this world comes with my faith, and my personal, subjective definition of faith is somewhat different to religion. Religio n can be defined as a belief in a supernatural power, often a deity or multiple deities, and a certain system of worship and faith. The latter word is where I tend to disagree, as faith for me is personal beliefs that one develops overtime with their existence in this world, not to be confused with religious beliefs that are dangled in front of many like a carrot on a stick that must be followed.
I believe this world is indeed a physical planet, named Earth (and not something more creative), and is a part of our Solar System. I also believe that a moon revolves around us, and we revolve around the Sun, and that our system is a part of the Milky Way galaxy, one of trillions in our Universe. In this way, my philosophy is based on commonly accepted scientific facts. Regarding a creation story, the expansion of the Universe, the end of the world and what comes after death, my answer is simple, yet in my view effective. I don’t know. And I don’t need to know.
Here is where I refer once again to the basic axiom of my philosophy. As humans we cannot possibly know the answer (shock and awe!) to all these questions and all questions like it to a degree of accuracy that defeats all criticism, and perhaps we are not meant to know. But why worry about these questions when we can worry about our definable past, present and future. This may sound idealistic and utopian, but then again, aren’t all philosophies to a certain degree? Doesn’t Stoicism come across extremely elitist, and all the ‘ -isms’ superficial? It can be said that worrying about things that we cannot fully understand is basic human curiosity. To this, I agree, and my point of contention is where this is taken to the point of proclaiming an existential crisi s over not knowing whether a few naughty deeds that you would rather not share with the Almighty might land you in a much warmer place.
This leads me quite well onto the question of our place in this world. I believe that as humans we must concern ourselves with what is within our reach. The almost immediate question, one would think, is how it can be known what these limits are. I will provide a simple analogy for the assistance of readers.
A five-year-old baby knows they cannot dunk on a basketball hoop, unless the new fiveyear-olds are being fed something new these days. Similarly, Tiger Woods wouldn’t have been able to hit a three-hundred-and -fifty-yard drive to the green when he first started playing but would lay up. Once again, it can be argued that humans may have the confidence and belief to try, but that argument may well be made by the same people who attempt what Tiger now does and end up looking like buffoons with their balls in the water.
Moving on, I will now look at how my Philosophy details how I should live my life, the ethics. I would like to say that the answer is a combination of practicality, realism (ironically, another ism!) and human nature. Starting with the latter, I believe th at all humans are born with basic moral compasses detailing right and wrong. I am not saying that all humans retain this compass, rather formative experiences may sometimes tend to bend the needle in the wrong direction, or in some cases, indelicately rip it out of the compass. Humans know when to be kind, when to do the right thing and how to be good citizens with positive impacts on society. This is a basic, intrinsic belief that I have and is employed in this philosophy. Practicality and realism can be s een as more related to the interests of oneself. It is important to note that this is completely different to selfishness, which relates only to the interests of one person. The purpose of practicality and realism in life is to be kind, yes, and to be help ful and useful to others but not so much that you yourself are not benefited. This, of course, has its exceptions, in relation to family, close friends, and doesn’t mean that selflessness to strangers is a bad thing. I merely mean to say that it must be ta ken with a pinch of salt, and when people make decisions in life it is important to consider the practicality of the action they will take, to consider how helpful it will be realistically, not optimistically or pessimistically, whilst still using the basic, human moral compass to decide what is right and wrong.
The final part of this essay is discussing how my philosophy deals with the inevitable question of death, one that plagues the minds of all mortals. In the previous section I mentioned realism and practicality, and I believe these two apply here. We must recognise that death is a reality that we all face, and (unless Elon Musk comes out with some radical technology) will be so for the foreseeable future. We can’t change death, and we can’t cheat age, as much as anti -aging brands urge us to believe. We there fore must face this reality with practicality and realistically. We must also not shy away from our human emotions, that yes, death causes agony, grief and suffering that is
unparalleled to man. It is too optimistic, elitist and frankly unrealistic to simply accept that death is a transition to a next phase of a cosmos, because that means nothing to the ones someone leave behind when they pass away. It is of no importance that someone is in heaven, hell or in the next universe if their relatives can’t see them, can’t touch them and can’t talk to them. Death is a sad reality of this world, and it is preposterous to try escape it, and to try cover its true nature up with euphemisms. It is a rather sombre way to end this piece, but then again, isn’t death a sombre way to end a life?
So, if I was to conclude this (not brief) reflective piece on my philosophy, I would do so with four points. The first would be don’t try too hard to fix and change what cannot be fixed and changed. The second would be don’t believe yourself to be above the rules of nature, and don’t waste valuable time trying to escape them. The third would be listen to the internal moral compass humans are born with. If there is fog and cloud, then blow it away and free yourself from doubt. And the fourth – and most important – never pour the milk before the cereal.
Do New Religions Kill God?
Cyrus Haidar
In the past century, the image of the world has changed with things such as the Internet, Social media and an increase in atheism. All these factors have led to many new religions having principles defying the traditional outlook of God what is this traditional outlook of God? With some such as Googlism and Kopimism (mostly ce ntred in Scandinavia) looking at things as ‘the closest thing to God’. These new religions support the quote, “We have killed God” said by Friedrich Nietzsche.
A slightly growing religion to go off of is Kopimism, being created as recent as 2012, is only recognised by Sweden but still has an estimate of a few from 2012 to now around 5000 (2020) followers! Which relatively big considering its age. This statistic s hows its likely to steadily increase. Kopimism’s principles are similar to googlism( which has extremely low numbers to be recognised officially as a religion) in the terms that their principles support technology related things and in which have principle s diminishing the understanding of the traditional Christian God.
Googlism itself eliminates all other aspects of traditional notions of Chrisitanity, such as heaven and hell and the story of salvation from sin. It primarily talks about the worship of Google as it is the closest thing that can be obtained of God as the s earch engine supposedly contains all information. This is an example of traditional principles being diminished. However, this still mentions God somewhat but in Kopimism it is different.
As a new religion, Kopism has no rituals, practices or celebrations but mainly focuses on one key belief of how information can be copied and shared hence many logos of it include CTR-C CTRL-V. Although the key belief in short is very vague it still again creates a whole new outlook with no God to worship but of a different not being but ‘activity’ To worship to.
Although there are obviously other religions that worships things other than God they all still worship something with the aspects of it being respectful, omnibenevolent, omnipotent or has great teachings to tell humanity. However, with new religions like Kopimism and Googlism, they mainly focus on something that exists physically and shows some kind of nobility. There are many more religions like this which could slowly crumble away the major understandings of God today like in Christianity, Islam, Judaism or even Hinduism with Gods.
To conclude, new religions may have principles looking away from today’s traditional ones do sentence doesn’t read properly ‘kill God’ in the way implied by Friedrich Nietzsche, but not in any way to cause a major impact globally or nationally. However, if a large frequency of similar religions start to be created - or some of these religions become much more popular, it could start to make society become even more in contact with technology/ social media, expanding a new outlook of religion. This outcome i s similar to how it is now said how social media is creates a less diverse world with a main interconnected cultural idea.
Sikhism: A Brief Introduction
Aarev Singh Vig
Also referred to as Sikhi, Sikhism is a monotheistic religion founded in the late 15 th century (1469) by Guru Nanak Dev Ji, in Punjab, India. Guru Nanak and his 9 successors are known as gurus – a word for spiritual guide or teacher. The word Sikh comes from the Sanskrit word (Shishysa) meaning disciple. Sikhism is the fifth largest religion in the world. The word Sikh means seeker of truth or learner, and advocates social justice, equality among all human beings, service to humanity and God. The main essential teaching and message of Sikhism is the spiritual devotion to God at all times, by practicing the virtues of honesty, compassion, humility and generosity in everyday life and activities.
With approximately 25 million Sikhs in the world and around 80% of Sikhs primarily based in Punjab, Sikhism is constantly growing and more people are voluntarily embracing Sikhism. Another 75 million people across the world worship and bow to Guru Granth Sahib Ji, the living Guru (the holy book). People love Sikh principles, teachings of Sikhs, the missionary work, and messages of peace from them. Sikhism is one of the youngest world religions that was founded more than 500 years ago. One of the reasons people love the kindness in Sikhs is the fact that Sikhs serve langar, meaning a community kitchen for people from any religion and culture is allowed to come to the langar hall in a Gurudwara and eat. This shows how kind and respecting Sikhs are to all kinds of people.
The key beliefs and practices of Sikhism is the fact that Guru Nanak taught true religion consists of always being respectful and mindful of God. Another way of achieving true religion is by meditation on name and attributes of life while reflecting, durin g all activities on God’s power. The Guru Granth Sahib Ji is the ultimate spiritual authority to connect with God, containing all of the teachings, devotional compositions written by the Sikh Gurus and other compositions of saints from other religions. The Guru Granth Sahib Ji is the heart and soul of Sikh worship and the presence of the Guru Granth Sahib is found in the Sikh place of worship the Gurdwara.
Like several other religions, Sikhs believe that there is only one God – one God for all. This is shown in the Guru Granth Sahib Ji in the very first line – “Ik Onkar” – meaning there is only one God. Sikhs believe that God is an almighty power and that Go d is truth in the words – Sat Nam. God is the power in the world undefined. This incredible force is described as God.
The Sikh life is based on these three principles:
1. Nam Japna, remember God’s name with every breath.
2. Kirat Karna, meaning work and earn, live a truthful and honest life.
3. Vand Chakna, meaning share your meals.
Sikh males carry the name of Singh meaning lion and Sikh females carry the name Kaur meaning lioness or princess. These ancestral names are ways to identify a Sikh called as Mr Singh or Mrs Kaur, only when one Sikh is present. If there are more than one Sikhs, the full name is often used to talk to a Sikh.
Many Sikhs use/wear the following five signs of their faith – known as the five K’s :
‘Kirpan’ – a small sized sword placed in a shoulder belt.
‘Kara’ – an iron bangle worn on the wrist, a sign of a Sikh.
‘Kacha’ – special underwear like boxer shorts.
‘Kanga’ – a small wooden comb for upkeep of hair.
‘Kesh’ – meaning hair, and a Sikh should never cut their hair.
These five K’s are the building blocks of Sikh faith. Each of the K’s represent something from the turban which represents a crown of spirituality or the Kara which has a bond with truth. Sikhs believe that if you meditate and pray to God, you will be spir itually connected to God.
Is Football Becoming a Religion?
Chris Lin
Football is a sport obvious, right? The Beautiful Game. But for around 3.5 billion fans worldwide, it’s more than just a pastime. To many, it’s the Holy Game. Every four years, the World Cup sweeps entire nations into a frenzy of passion and pride. In 2014, when Brazil suffered a humiliating 7–1 defeat to Germany (after their star player Neymar was ruled out due to injury), some fans were reported to be s o devastated they attempted suicide. Back in 1950, when Brazil lost to Uruguay in the World Cup final on home soil, one heartbroken fan took his own life, and three others reportedly died from heart attacks caused by shock and grief. This level of emotional investment reveals a kind of devotion that mirrors religious faith.
Even Pele, the King of Football, once said, “Football is like a religion to me. I worship the ball, and I treat it like a god. Too many players think of a football as something to kick. They should be taught to caress it and to treat it like a precious gem.” If someone of his status sees the game as sacred, perhaps football really is more than just a game.
Football is the most popular sport on Earth. Over 5 billion people follow it with deep loyalty. Fans often stay devoted to their clubs for life, and switching allegiances is frowned upon so much so that those who change teams are labelled "glory hunters" and seen as disloyal. Matches between rival teams, especially derbies, stir intense emotions. Fans eagerly await the opportunity to see their team play live or to meet their footballing heroes. This kind of passion is rare and resembles the deep connection seen in religious communities.
Football shares many similarities with religion. Like religion, it brings people together through shared beliefs and rituals. Fans chant together in stadiums, wear special shirts with pride, and travel great distances just to be part of a matchday experien ce. Stadiums feel like places of worship, and matchdays are sacred occasions in many households.
There is a strong sense of identity, purpose, and belonging among football fans much like the community found in faith groups. The game also has its own stories and legends passed down through generations: iconic moments, unforgettable goals, and heroes th at live forever in memory. Trophies become sacred symbols, celebrated like holy relics. Even the songs and chants of football, full of passion and history, are a kind of artistic and spiritual expression.
Many footballers are religious themselves, and this sometimes blurs the line between faith and sport. Lionel Messi, for example, often points to the sky after scoring, in
honour of his late grandmother and to thank God. Diego Maradona’s infamous “Hand of God” goal wasn’t just controversial it showed how religious language is often used to describe football moments. Maradona even said, “Football isn’t a game, nor a sport. It’s a religion.”
While football doesn’t have sacred texts or official gods, the values and beliefs of fans are strong. Loyalty to your team is everything. Those who switch support are often mocked or disliked seen as breaking an unwritten code. Every four years, the World Cup becomes the most watched event in the world, and for many, it’s the highlight of their lives.
Football stars become idols not just for their skill but for their ability to bring people together, win trophies, and inspire fans. Clubs rely on these players not just to win games, but to bring joy, unity, and revenue. Football influences how people spe nd their money, plan their schedules, and even express their identity.
Whenever a major tournament takes place, the entire atmosphere changes. Streets are filled with flags, people gather in homes and public spaces, and hope rises with each match. Fans everywhere feel the same emotions anticipation, excitement, and heartbreak. This global connection is something few things outside religion can achieve.
So, is football becoming a religion? In many ways, it already is. It unites people, creates community, has rituals and sacred spaces, and inspires fierce devotion. While many religious believers may never call football a real religion because of their faith in God there’s no denying that for millions, football offers the emotion, meaning, and sense of belonging that religion often brings. Whether you call it a sport or something more, football clearly holds a spiritual place in the hearts of fans around the world.
The Story of the Prince Philip movement
Rian Patel
In 1974, two hundred years after Captain Cook came to the island, a British king on vacation unknowingly caused a change that went against the old beliefs. The people of the southern Tanna island in Vanuatu believed that their ancestral god, Kalbaben, lived in the crater of the active volcano called Mount Yasur, and that he had many sons. One of Kalbaben’s sons, according to the story, became a man and left the island to marry a powerful woman from another country. There was a prophecy that this god would return to Tanna one day, bringing an end to sickness and death. Life would be eternal, and no new babies would need to be born. The island would become rich, with endless harvests and fish jumping out of the sea.
When Queen Elizabeth II was crowned in 1953, the people on Tanna learned from the British colonists about her and her husband, Prince Philip. They saw pictures of him in magazines and newspapers during the 1950s and 1960s, and thought he looked similar to their god. The villagers saved the photos and asked an anthropologist where Prince Philip was from. The anthropologist didn’t know. He wasn’t from Britain or France, not from Greece even though he was called a prince of Greece. He had Danish, German, and Russian ancestry, but wasn’t from those places either. To the chiefs of Tanna, the answer was clear Prince Philip must be from their land.
In 1974, Prince Philip visited the New Hebrides with Queen Elizabeth on the Royal Yacht Britannia. They stopped at the nearby island of Malekula, where Prince Philip took part in a pig-killing ceremony, a ritual to honour a chief. Although they didn’t land on Tanna, they anchored near the island of Aneityum. Some of the chiefs paddled out in canoes to get closer to the yacht. “I saw him standing on the deck in his white uniform,” remembered Jack Naiva, the chief of Yaohnanen, in a later interview. “I knew then that he was the true messiah.” News about Prince Philip spread quickly as people travelled along the dirt paths, through the yam fields and coconut trees, and under the banyan trees.
The islanders began to meet secretly, where they heard messages from a mysterious god who was said to have bleached blond hair. This god was called John Frum, which might have come from the phrase "John from America." Some people believed he was actually Rusefel, or even Franklin D. Roosevelt; others thought he was a version of Kalbaben, the volcano god. A British official reported, worried, that Frum was seen as a way to get rid of the colonizers, pushing them back into the sea. The islanders believed that soon Tanna would be destroyed and turned into a smooth, black surface like obsidian. They
said that with a fleet of airplanes, John Frum would return, bringing eternal life, and all the wealth and technology of America to make Tanna prosper.
Jainism: A Short Introduction
Noah Szajman
Jainism is one of the three most ancient Indian religious traditions, maintaining between four and five million followers and has had a small increase in the U.S. and U.K. in popularity with its followers known as Jains or Jainas, who are most commonly fo und in India. Outside India, some of the largest Jain communities can be found in Canada, Europe, and the United States.
Key Beliefs and Practices
Jains believe in reincarnation. This cycle of birth, death, and rebirth is decided by one’s karma in their life and the good and bad that they do. Jains believe bad karma is caused by harming living things is this the only thing that causes bad Karma?. To avoid bad karma, Jains must practice ahimsa, a strict code of nonviolence. Jains believe plants, animals, and some non-living things (like air and water) have souls, just as humans do so they should be respected as much as humans. The principle of nonviolence includes doing no harm to humans, plants, animals, and nature. For that reason, Jains are strict vegetarians so strict, in fact, that eating root vegetables is not allowed because removing the root would kill the plant. However, Jains can eat vegetables that grow above the ground, because they can be picked while leaving the rest of the plant intact. In complete dedication to nonviolence, the highest-ranked Jain monks and nuns avoid swatting at mosquitoes or sweeping a path on the floor so they do not step on an ant.
Belief in God?
Jains do not believe in a God or gods in the way that many other religions do, but they do believe in divine (or at least perfect) beings who are worthy of devotion or nature. Jainism is a way of life a philosophy. They believe in prophets who guide them o n how to live life. These are called tirthankaras. Some most famous Tirthankaras are Rishabh Deva and Mahavir. These tirthankaras established the religion and were the most prominent members who made Jainism a way of life that people still believe today. T he Jain prayer goes as follows :
“Namo Arihantanam - I bow in reverence to Arihants
Namo Siddhanam - I bow in reverence to Siddhas
Namo Ayariyanam - I bow in reverence to Acharyas
Namo Uvajjhayanam - I bow in reverence to Upadhyayas
Namo Loye Savva Sahunam - I bow in reverence to all Sadhus Eso Panch Namoyaro - This five -fold salutation
Savva Pavappanasano - Destroys all sins
Mangalanam Cha Savvesim - And amongst all auspicious things
Padhamam Havai Mangalam - Is the most auspicious one” Jainism thanks nature for everything and believes in nature.
Practices
Jains are not allowed to eat certain foods. For example, they are not allowed to eat meat as it harms animals, they cannot eat vegetables grown in the ground since when you pull it out, you could accidently end an innocent creature’s life , which is just as important as yours. Another restriction they have is that they cannot walk on grass. This is because when Jains step on grass they might kill some animals by stepping on them.
This is why Jains are called Jains. The name Jainism derives from the Sanskrit verb ji, “to conquer.” It refers to the ascetic battle that, it is believed, Jain renunciants (monks and nuns) must fight against the passions and bodily senses to gain enlightenment, or omniscience and purity of their inner soul. The acolytes are called Jains/Jainas which means “follower of the Conquerors.’
A Short Introduction to Islam
Zayd Ali & Ilyas-Ali Nazarali
This journal entry will explore Islam, a religion followed by over 1.9 billion people around the world. Islam is considered one of the youngest major world religions, having been revealed approximately 1,400 years ago in the 7th century CE. It is the secondlargest religion globally, after Christianity.
Muslims believe in the existence of one God, known in Arabic as Allah. He is believed to be all-powerful, all-knowing, and beyond human understanding He cannot be seen, heard, or touched, yet He is present everywhere. The final prophet of Islam is Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him), who is believed to have received messag es from Allah through the angel Jibril (Gabriel). These divine revelations were later compiled into Islam’s holy book, the Qur’an
The foundation of Islam is built upon five core practices, known as the Five Pillars:
1. Shahadah (Faith): This is the declaration that there is no god but Allah, and Muhammad is His messenger. This belief shapes a Muslim’s understanding of God as the sole creator and ruler of the universe.
2. Salah (Prayer): Muslims pray five times a day to maintain a close relationship with Allah. Prayer encourages discipline, mindfulness, and gratitude throughout the day.
3. Zakat (Charity): Muslims are expected to give 2.5% of their wealth each year to those in need. This act promotes generosity, humility, and social responsibility.
4. Sawm (Fasting): During the month of Ramadan, Muslims fast from dawn to sunset. Fasting helps develop self -control and allows Muslims to empathize with those who experience hunger and hardship.
5. Hajj (Pilgrimage): Every Muslim who is physically and financially able must make a pilgrimage to the holy city of Mecca at least once in their lifetime. During Hajj, Muslims from all over the world unite in worship and reflection at the Kaaba, believed to be the house of God.
Muslims also believe in life after death. They believe that all actions in this life are recorded by two angels Raqib and Atid who track good and bad deeds. These records will be used on the Day of Judgment to determine each person's place in the afterlife. Those who lived righteously hope to be rewarded with Jannah, which is the Islamic concept of paradise.
Islam is more than just a set of religious beliefs it is a complete way of life. It offers a moral framework that encourages kindness, honesty, charity, and respect for others. It teaches Muslims how to live with purpose, stay spiritually connected, and co ntribute positively to society. However, many Muslims in the West face Islamophobia prejudice driven by misinformation and stereotypes. This can lead to discrimination, social exclusion, and even violence. Combating Islamophobia requires greater understand ing of Islam’s true teachings and efforts to promote respect and inclusion.
A History of Buddhism in China and the Influence of AI
Colin Jiang
In recent years, artificial intelligence (AI) has increasingly penetrated various sectors of society, transforming industries, economies, and cultural landscapes. One of the more fascinating developments has been the growing influence of AI within religious practices in China. Although religion in China is often tightly controlled by the government, technology particularly AI is gradually becoming a tool that shapes religious experiences. This essay explores how AI is influencing religion in China, examining its use in religious services, surveillance, and its impact on traditional spiritual practices.
China's relationship with religion has historically been complex. The Chinese government has long maintained a policy of regulating religious practices and keeping faith communities under close control. While the state promotes atheism, religious groups are subject to strict surveillance and restrictions. In recent years, however, the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) has recognized the growing influence of religion among its citizens. To both monitor and guide religious practices, AI has been integrated into s tate surveillance systems. These technologies monitor everything from the activities of religious groups to the behaviour of individual worshippers. This data collection enables the government to track and influence religious movements, ensuring they remain aligned with state-approved ideologies.
A notable example of AI’s influence on religion in China is its integration into Buddhist temples. Some temples have begun to employ AI-powered robots to assist monks with daily tasks. These robots, equipped with facial recognition technology, can offer prayers, chant sutras, and interact with visitors in ways that mimic human behaviour. While their role is to support religious practice, they also reflect the CCP’s emphasis on efficiency, technological advancement, and control. The use of AI allows temples to streamline their operations reducing the need for human labour while also making it easier to monitor religious activity within these spaces.
AI has also entered the sphere of religious education in China. Virtual monks powered by AI are now used to teach Buddhist doctrines, especially to younger audiences. These digital figures can deliver sermons, answer spiritual questions, and engage in reli gious discussions. The Chinese government supports this digitalisation of religion, framing it as a way to preserve cultural traditions while maintaining ideological oversight. By controlling the AI behind these virtual educators, the state ensures that re ligious teachings are consistent with its political aims. In this way, AI becomes a tool for both preserving and regulating faith.
Another critical function of AI in Chinese religion is its role in surveillance. The government operates one of the world’s most extensive surveillance networks, using AI to monitor religious gatherings and places of worship. These systems track attendance , identify participants, and ensure that all activities conform to government -approved narratives. AI can even be used to censor religious teachings, blocking materials that are considered politically sensitive or subversive. As a result, AI is not just sh aping how religion is practiced but also influencing what people are allowed to believe and express spiritually.
Despite these technological advancements, the use of AI in religion raises significant ethical concerns. The introduction of AI -powered monks and virtual religious figures may challenge the traditional role of human spiritual leaders. These figures are typ ically seen as wise, compassionate guides qualities that AI cannot genuinely replicate. Replacing them with machines risks dehumanizing religious experience and eroding the personal connection between leaders and followers. Additionally, blending faith wit h constant surveillance may damage spiritual autonomy, as believers are aware that even their private acts of devotion could be monitored and judged.
In conclusion, AI is playing an increasingly significant role in shaping religion in China. It is enhancing religious services, supporting digital education, and reinforcing state surveillance. Government mechanisms of control include monitoring attendance , controlling content, and regulating who can lead or attend services. As AI continues to influence how people worship, learn, and engage with their faith, it is clear that religion in China is being reshaped by technology. While these innovations may prom ote efficiency and state oversight, they also raise serious questions about the future of religious freedom, authenticity, and the human spirit in a digitised society.
Ananda Marga in the UK
Pranay Rajput
Ananda Marga, which means Path of Bliss in Sanskrit, is a spiritual organisation that blends meditation, yoga, and service. It was founded by Prabhat Ranjan Sarkar (also known as Shrii Anandamurti or Baba) in 1955, with the goal of achieving both spiritual enlightenment and social welfare. The core philosophy centres on self-realisation and selfless service.
There are key disciplines that all Ananda Marga followers, or Margis, practise. These are known as Yama and Niyama. Each of these contains five principles that are taught from the beginning. The five principles of Yama are: Ahimsa – non-violence, Asteya – non-stealing, Satya – truthfulness, Aparigraha – non-possessiveness, and Brahmacharya – control over desires. In Niyama, the five are: Saucha – cleanliness, Santosha – contentment, Tapas –discipline, Svadhyaya – self-study, and Ishvara Pranidhana – surrender to God.
The exact number of Ananda Marga followers is not publicly available, as the path is followed by a relatively small and decentralised community, and official data is rarely published. However, it is clear that the movement is steadily growing, not declinin g.
Ananda Margis do believe in God, though their understanding of God differs from that found in more traditional or orthodox religions. The philosophy of Ananda Marga is rooted in the concept of Brahman, the supreme universal entity. In this path, God is often referred to as Parama Purusha, which means Cosmic Entity. It is believed that Parama Purusha transcends duality. In other words, while God can be approached as a personal being, He is also beyond all opposites beyond good and evil, personal and impersonal, creation and destruction.
In Ananda Marga, the role of the Guru is vital. The Guru acts as a spiritual guide, showing the disciple the path of right action and spiritual growth. The emphasis is not on dogma or rigid doctrine, but on personal experience and inner transformation. The spiritual approach is unique in its blending of yogic practices and spiritual philosophy.
There are several core practices followed by Ananda Margis. One is meditation, particularly Raja Yoga, which aims to achieve mental and spiritual stillness. This practice calms the mind, allowing the practitioner to focus entirely on Parama Purusha and experience inner bliss. Regular meditation is believed to help one connect with the Supreme Consciousnes s and realise their own divine nature.
Another important practice is kiirtan, a devotional chant directed to Parama Purusha. This is done out of love and surrender, and it serves as a way of offering one’s emotions and actions to the divine. The third practice is Guru Puja, a devotional song performed after meditation to express gratitude and surrender everything to the Guru, symbolically offering oneself to attain the ultimate spiritual joy.
In the UK, Ananda Marga is practised by a small but committed group of followers. There are a few centres in cities like London and Leicester where members gather for collective meditation, kiirtan sessions, yoga, and study of spiritual teachings. Practitioners often organise retreats, workshops, and service projects such as food distribution or environmental clean -ups. Although the community is not large, it remains closely connected, with followers supporting each other in maintaining a spiritual lifestyl e based on discipline, compassion, and regular practice. The teachings of Ananda Marga are shared openly with people of all backgrounds, and many British followers value the path for its holistic approach to personal growth and service to humanity.
Ananda Marga has a deep and meaningful impact on its followers. It nurtures spiritual wellbeing, promotes ethical and moral living, and encourages respectful, compassionate relationships. The path provides a space for personal transformation, spiritual co nnection, and community involvement. It opens the door for people to explore the profound teachings of Parama Purusha and seek inner peace.
Overall, Ananda Marga offers a rich spiritual path for those seeking enlightenment and a deeper understanding of the universe, God, and the self. Its integration of service, meditation, and moral values makes it a unique and fulfilling way of life.
Christianity in Israel
Danny Wang
Christianity once held a central place in the land of Israel, as it is the birthplace of Jesus Christ, who was baptized there and where the Holy Spirit is said to have first appeared. However, today Christianity is a minority religion in Israel, with Christians making up roughly 2% of the population. Most Christians in Israel are Arab Christians, pr imarily residing in cities such as Nazareth and Haifa.
Over the years, the Christian population in Israel has gradually declined. This is largely due to emigration, lower birth rates, and various socio -political challenges. Many younger Christians have left the country in search of better opportunities and to escape regional instability. Nevertheless, some Christian communities such as the Ethiopian Orthodox Church and certain evangelical groups have experienced modest growth in recent years.
Despite the overall decline, Christianity continues to play a significant role in Israel’s cultural and historical identity. Sacred sites like Jerusalem, home to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre believed to be the site of Jesus’ crucifixion, burial, and resurrection remain major pilgrimage destinations. Bethlehem, with the Church of the Nativity, marks the traditional birthplace of Jesus, while the Jordan River is revered as the place of his baptism. Other important locations include Nazareth, where Jesus spent much of his early life, and the Mount of Olives, associated with key events in his final days. These sites attract Christian pilgrims from around the world, especially during major religious celebrations such as Christmas and Easter.
Christianity in Israel is notably diverse, encompassing a range of denominations including Roman Catholic, Orthodox, and Protestant traditions. While these branches differ in theology and practice, they share core beliefs centered on the life, teachings, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, who is regarded as the Son of God and the Savior of humanity. Christians also uphold the doctrine of the Trinity God as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit and believe that salvation comes through faith in Jesus Christ. The Bible, particularly the New Testament, is considered the foundational scripture.
A defining feature of Christianity is its monotheism: the belief in one God. However, unlike other monotheistic religions, Christianity teaches that God exists as a Trinity three persons in one essence: God the Father, God the Son (Jesus Christ), and God t he Holy Spirit. This concept distinguishes Christianity from other faiths. Christians believe that God is loving, just, all -powerful, all -knowing, and ever-present. He is seen as the Creator of the universe and remains actively involved in the world and in human lives.
The first dramatic appearance of the Holy Spirit, according to Christian tradition, occurred after Jesus’ resurrection. As described in the Book of Acts, the Holy Spirit descended upon the disciples in the form of tongues of fire while they were gathered together an event known as Pentecost. This moment marked the beginning of the Christian Church and the empowerment of believers to spread the message of Jesus.
In summary, while Christianity is no longer a dominant presence in Israel, it remains deeply woven into the country's spiritual and historical landscape. Despite demographic shifts and modern challenges, the Christian faith continues to thrive through its diverse communitie s and sacred tradition in the land where its story began. The presence of holy sites and the ongoing devotion of believers ensure that Christianity retains a meaningful role in Israel’s religious mosaic.
Hinduism and the West
Reeday Nandani
Over the past 200 years, Hinduism, the oldest religion in the world, has left a very strong imprint upon the western cultures. This essay shall discuss how the introduction of Hindu tenets and practices to the western society occurred, how they spread, and how they still affect the Western nations today.
The introduction of Hinduism to the West has been in full swing since the late 1800s. With this process, a fruitful encounter made its foothold: Swami Vivekananda gave a magnificent discourse in 1893 at the Parliament of the World Religion in Chicago, where he disclosed to the West some major ideas of Hinduism -on the lines of acceptance or tolerance and many ways to God or Truth. This further awakened interest in the philosophy of Hinduism. Incidentally, the Bhagavad Gita, the Vedas, and Upanishads were undergoing their first rounds of serious translation into English at roughly the same time, enabling the needy Westerners to come to know something about Hindu thought.
Yoga – the most popular export of Hinduism –starts as a practice of uniting with the spirit or talking to God. In the West, it is a tool for physical fitness with perhaps an emphasis on stress relief for practically everyone. It is reported that today, mil lions in the U.S. and other Western countries practice Yoga.
Hinduism has given a deep influence on many Western societies in many ways, especially philosophy, spirituality, and culture. Thinking about karma, dharma, and moksha introduced into the Western stream's concepts of moral cause and effect, social righteousness, and spiritual liberation. The teachings of essential figures like Mahatma Gandhi brought forth Hindu thought in the public sphere, accentuating themes of selfrealization.
Hinduism's footprints trace into areas of Western literature and art, where authors such as T.S. Eliot and Herman Hesse worked Hindu topics into their writings. On the other hand, Hindu festivals Diwali and Holi have found their ways into celebrations in Western countries for cultural spreading of Hindu traditions.
In addition, Hindu ideas of pluralism and tolerance have become an important lens by which Western society views religion and spirituality, thus fostering inclusiveness of so many different paths toward spiritual truth.
In conclusion, we can see that Hinduism has greatly impacted Western societies by presenting spiritual, philosophical, and cultural ideas that interact with the contemporary mindset. From the late 19th century as Swami Vivekananda and translated Hindu texts took the work to spread Hindu beliefs, there was a growing understanding of karma, dharma, and moksha. Symbolic of a deep -rooted influence in the present day is the explosion of popularity yoga has been enjoying by this time-other than somewhat of a spir itual impeccability. Hindu festivities, literature, and art decorate the canvas of Western culture, thus enhancing the pluralism and stressing interfaith dialogue. The acceptance of such Hindu tenets as religious tolerance and self-realization leads us to ponder our approaches toward spirituality. Western teachings seem to be moving down the acceptance route regarding Hindu ideas, heightening harmonization and mutual respect as culture interchanges will foster between East and West.
Religion in the United Kingdom
Jake Norman
Religion in England is marked by a rich tapestry of beliefs and practices, though historically it has been dominated by Christianity. According to the 2021 national census, 46.2 percent of the population in England and Wales identify as Christian. Other religious affiliations include 6.5 percent identifying as Muslim, 1.7 percent as Hindu, 0.9 percent as Sikh, and 0.5 percent each for Judaism and Buddhism. Despite Christianity remaining the largest religion, it now comprises less than half of the population, reflecting a broader trend of religious diversification and secularisation.
The United Kingdom’s official religion is Christianity, with the Church of England serving as the established state church. The monarch holds the title of Supreme Governor of the Church, which is a Protestant Anglican institution. This affiliation dates back to the 16th century and continues to shape the religious identity of the royal family, who are often mistakenly thought to be Catholic. In reality, they are firmly rooted in Anglican tradition.
Religious life in the UK is not limited to Anglicanism. Other Christian denominations such as Roman Catholicism, Methodism, Presbyterianism, Mormonism, and Baptist churches are also present. Beyond Christianity, the UK is home to a growing number of adherents to Islam, Hinduism, Sikhism, Judaism, Buddhism, modern paganism, and the Bahá'í Faith. There is also a notable presence of irreligious movements, including humanism and atheism. Interestingly, Shamanism has emerged as the fastest -growing religion in England, according to the latest census.
The country’s religious heritage is reflected in its architecture and cultural celebrations. Iconic buildings such as Westminster Abbey, Canterbury Cathedral, and St Paul’s Cathedral stand as enduring symbols of the nation’s spiritual history. Major Christ ian festivals like Christmas and Easter are widely celebrated, even among those who do not identify with the faith.
However, the influence of Christianity is waning. The number of people identifying as Christian has dropped significantly, while those declaring no religion have risen sharply from 15 percent to 25 percent in recent years, and now reaching 37 percent. This shift underscores a broader secular trend, positioning England and Wales among the least religious regions globally.
Despite this decline, religion in the UK is not disappearing. Immigration since World War II has introduced and expanded the presence of various faiths, particularly Islam, Hinduism, and Sikhism. Buddhism has also grown, driven by both immigration and conversion, including interest in secular forms of the tradition.
In conclusion, while the UK may be experiencing a decline in traditional religious affiliation, it remains a religiously diverse society. The presence of numerous faiths some well-established, others rapidly growing demonstrates that religion continues to play a significant, if evolving, role in the cultural and social fabric of the nation.
Atheism and Agnosticism in Scientists
Ari Gaon
In this article, I will explore the levels of atheism and agnosticism in scientists.
Belief
About 7% of the world are religiously unaffiliated, making about 450 -500 million people worldwide. However, these non-beliefs are different, with atheism believing that it is possible to know the supernatural does not exist, and agnosticism believing it is impossible to know whether the supernatural exists. The number of atheists in the world is growing, but not in line with the projected population growth, so the proportion of atheists in the world is shrinking.
A 2009 survey of scientists who were members of the American Association for the Advancement of Science conducted by the Pew Research Centre found that 51% of scientists believe in God or a higher power compared with the American public, at 95%. A similar survey of fellows of the Royal Society of London (248 respondents, some questions were left blank) found that 79.5% of respondents self -identified as agnostic/atheist/no religion, compared to the general population at 37.1%. In the same survey, respondents were asked their agreement level (1 -7) with the following statements:
1.I believe that there is a strong likelihood that a supernatural being such as God exists or has existed.
2.I believe in a personal God, that is one who takes interests in individuals, hears and answers prayers, is concerned with sin and transgressions, and passes judgment.
3.I believe that science and religion occupy non- overlapping domains of discourse and can peacefully co-exist (NOMA).
4.I believe that when we physically die, our subjective consciousness, or some part of it, survives.
This survey also found that biological scientists showed higher rates of non -belief than physical scientists.
Influences
Atheism and agnosticism have been shown to affect many aspects of people. One example is that atheists generally have higher IQs (Zuckerman, M., Silberman, J., &
Hall, J. A. (2013). The Relation Between Intelligence and Religiosity: A Meta -Analysis and Some Proposed Explanations), possibly because more intelligent people have a more analytic thinking style than less intelligent people leading them to separate themselves from the herd mentality of religion. Also, people who state that they are atheist or agnostic are more likely to have a university degree (48% vs. 34%). In general, the data show that atheists and agnostics are more likely to be civically engaged, of ten about the same as religious people, but people who describe their religion as “none in particular” have lower levels of civic engagement.
Conclusion
The data shows that in today’s society there are higher levels of atheism and agnosticism among scientists than the population as a whole. Religion and science have been linked since when the Church persecuted Galileo for going against the heliocentric view the Church held. Religious beliefs have changed since the time of Galileo, so I think it is possible to integrate science and religion without compromising either.
Christianity in Africa
Ali Chandoo
Christianity in Africa first arrived in in North Africa, in the 1st or early 2nd century AD. The Christian communities in North Africa were among the earliest in the world. Legend has it that Christianity was brought from Jerusalem to Alexandria on the Egyptian coast by Mark, one of the four evangelists, in 60 AD. This was around the same time or possibly before Christianity spread to Northern Europe. Once Christianity arrived in North Africa it spread quickly to East Africa and Ethiopia. As of now there are approximately 734 million Christians in Africa.
How large is Christianity?
Christianity is the largest religion in the word approximately 2.3 billion followers worldwide which makes up about 31% of the global population. This number includes all the variations on Christianity, such as Catholicism and Protestantism, each with its own traditions and beliefs. The largest group within Christianity is the Roman Catholic Church. Christianity is widespread across many continents, especially in America , Europe and parts of Asia. Its influence has shaped cultures, societies, and history in significant ways. Worldwide Christianity is still growing to this da y.
What are the key beliefs and practices of Christianity?
Christianity is a monotheist ic religion which means Christians only believe in one god. One of Christianity’s strongest beliefs is that Jesus Christ is the son of God. Christians believe that God sent his Son to earth to save humanity from the consequences of its sins. Christians also believe there is one God in three persons: God the father, God the Son and the Holy Spirit. The scripture of Christianity is called the Bible, which is compilation of many books. There are also two sections of the bible : the Old and New Testament. Christmas is also a very important festival for Christians as they believe this holy day is Jesus ’ birthday and they give presents to each other is to spread the joy of Jesus being born.
Christians also believe after Jesus was executed on the cross only a few days later he came back to life but he remained on earth only a few days, but he sent his spirit to forever guide his followers. This was an example o f God’s power as he could control death as he resurrected Jesus. Also, Easter is a very important day for Christians as it celebrates the day Jesus was brought back to life by God.
The Deconstruction of Religion on Youtube and TikTok
Theo De Penon
The deconstruction of religion over YouTube and TikTok is a growing, prominent issue on video platforms and on social media. This deconstruction of religion is basically when people question different religions and ask if people should have a religion or if they should just be secular. However, this issue is curren tly getting slightly inappropriate and out of hand as it steadily grows.
The deconstruction of religion is when people question each article of the religion (the foundations of a belief) or belief and value system of their faith and submit it to a process of ongoing reflection. This process involves questioning and scrutinizing particular beliefs or values. However, this is very wrong, as to some people religion is a massive part of their lives and they are deeply devoted to their religion. The idea that you can just say something that may be a big part of someone’s life is false or untrue is wrong. I’m not wholly sure what this means. For example, on TikTok, the hashtag #deconstruction has gained over 208.5 million views, while #deconstructiontiktok has gained 8.1 million followers. These numbers highlight the scale and impact of the religious deconstruction movement on social media.
This movement gained significant size during the global COVID -19 pandemic, which forced many people from small, personal communities into bigger virtual spaces. There are even real-life events and conferences which have started from or because of this movement. There are even deconstruction coaches appearing now, teaching people how to possibly leave a religion. TikTok personalities have even emerged, speaking about their experiences of leaving their old religion. There are even people making up names for leaving their old religion. Doing this can hurt many others' feelings, as they believe that their religion is true and they feel very strongly about it.
Looking ahead, it seems likely that the deconstruction movement will continue to grow, especially as younger generations engage more deeply with social media and online platforms. More creators may begin sharing their personal journeys, and more discussions both respectful and disrespectful will likely appear. While some platforms may try to moderate or limit this content, it’s hard to see it being completely banned. What’s more realistic is that people will start to form clearer boundaries: some will call for respectful dialogue around belief, while others will push for the freedom to question everything, including religion. Either way, this issue isn’t going away any time soon, and society will need to keep thinking about how to handle such sensitive topic s in an online world.
The Spread of Islam in Europe
Zane Al-Hadad
Islam is one of the largest religions on earth, with around 1.9 billion followers. It began on the Arabian Peninsula in the 7th century and has since spread to many parts of the world, including Europe. Today, Islam is the second-largest religion in Europe, with its growth driven by migration, conversions, and larger family sizes. Countries like France, Germany, the UK, and Spain are home to large and growing Muslim communities. As a result, Islam is becoming increasingly present in Europe today.
Islam Grows in Europe
Islam entered Europe long ago. In 711 CE, Muslims known as the Moors arrived in Spain and ruled parts of the region for nearly 800 years. Later, the Ottomans expanded Islam into parts of Eastern Europe, including Bosnia, Albania, and Kosovo. In modern time s, Muslims have migrated from North Africa, the Middle East, and South Asia into many European countries.
Some Europeans also choose to convert to Islam and become Muslims.
Currently, there are around 25–30 million Muslims living in Europe, accounting for roughly 5–6% of the total population. Many of Europe's major cities such as Paris, London, and Berlin have large Muslim populations and serve as key centers for Islamic life
Key Elements of Belief and Practice
Islam is a monotheistic religion that believes in one God, Allah. Muslims believe that Muhammad is the final prophet and messenger of Allah, who conveyed God's guidance to humankind. The holy scripture of Islam, the Qur’an, contains the words of God revealed to Muhammad.
Muslims follow the Five Pillars of Islam, which form the foundation of their faith and practice:
1. Shahada (Faith) – Declaring and believing that there is no god but Allah, and Muhammad is His messenger.
2. Salah (Prayer) – Praying five times a day while facing Mecca.
3. Zakat (Charity) – Giving a portion of one’s income to help those in need.
4. Sawm (Fasting) – Fasting during daylight hours in the month of Ramadan.
5. Hajj (Pilgrimage) – Traveling to Mecca at least once in a lifetime, if possible.
What do Muslims believe about God?
Muslims believe that Allah is one and without shape or form. This contrasts with some other religions where God might be represented in images or statues. In Islam, Allah is
beyond human comprehension and is never visualized. Muslims believe Allah is allpowerful, all-wise, and merciful. This is why Islam strongly emphasizes God’s uniqueness and rejects the idea of multiple gods or physical representations of the divine.
How Islam Affects Believers’ Lives
Islam deeply influences many aspects of a Muslim’s daily life. Muslims pray regularly, follow a halal diet (which includes avoiding pork and alcohol), and dress modestly. Values such as kindness to others, supporting family, and giving to those in need are considered important parts of Islamic life. Muslims also celebrate major religious festivals such as Eid al-Fitr and Eid al-Adha, which are times of joy, prayer, and community.
Despite challenges, Islam continues to grow in Europe and plays an increasingly important role in European society. Many Muslims are active in workplaces, the arts, politics, and public life. As this continues, European Muslims will likely contribute to shaping a bright and inclusive future for the continent.
Judaism in the United States
Daniel Friend
Judaism in the United States is a vibrant and evolving part of the country’s religious landscape. Over the past decade, the Jewish population in America has grown significantly. In 2010, around 4.2 million Americans approximately 1.8% of the population identified as Jewish. By 2020, that number had risen to 7.5 million, or 2.4% of the population. This growth reflects not only natural demographic changes but also a renewed interest in Jewish identity, culture, and religious life among both born Jews and converts.
American Judaism is diverse, encompassing a wide range of traditions and levels of observance. From Orthodox communities that strictly follow Jewish law, to Reform and Conservative Jews who may interpret religious practices more flexibly, the spectrum of Jewish life in the U.S. is broad and dynamic. Despite these differences, core beliefs unite Jewish Americans across denominations.
At the heart of Judaism is the belief in one God an eternal, non-physical, and allpowerful being who is the creator and sustainer of the universe. This monotheistic belief is foundational and shapes every aspect of Jewish theology and practice. Jews belie ve that God made a covenant with the patriarch Abraham, and this sacred relationship was passed down through his son Isaac and grandson Jacob, who are considered the forefathers of the Jewish people.
Jewish religious life in the U.S. is centred around the synagogue, where communities gather for prayer, study, and celebration. Major festivals such as Hanukkah, which commemorates the rededication of the Second Temple, and Passover, which marks the Exodus from Egypt, are widely observed and celebrated with rich traditions and rituals. These holidays not only reinforce religious identity but also serve as opportunities for family and community bonding.
A distinctive feature of Jewish belief is the expectation of the coming of the Messiah a future leader who will bring peace, justice, and spiritual renewal to the world. According to Jewish tradition, the prophet Elijah will announce the Messiah’s arrival. Some interpretations suggest that this event will occur by the year 6000 in the Jewish calendar, which corresponds to the year 2240 in the Gregorian calendar.
Jewish beliefs significantly influence daily life. Observant Jews follow a range of religious laws, including keeping kosher dietary rules, observing the Sabbath (Shabbat) from Friday evening to Saturday night, and participating in solemn holy days such as Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement. These practices are not just rituals they shape values, ethics, and a sense of purpose in everyday life.
In the United States, Judaism has also made a profound cultural impact. Jewish Americans have contributed to nearly every aspect of American society, from politics
and science to literature, music, and film. At the same time, Jewish communities continue to face challenges, including rising antisemitism and debates over identity and continuity in a secularizing society.
Nevertheless, Judaism in the U.S. remains resilient and deeply rooted. Its growth, diversity, and enduring traditions reflect a community that is both proud of its ancient heritage and actively engaged in shaping its future.
The Effect of Atheism
Tom Roberts
Atheism is an ideology that is growing fast in this day and age: in a 2023 survey, 17 percent of Americans, upon being asked their religion, said nothing in particular, results similar to an almost identical poll in 2013 that gave the number as 16 percent. This statistic shows that if atheism keeps on growing the way that it is, by the year 2855 every single American will put down in that survey, if it were to be repeated, ‘nothing in particular,’ if the population did not grow. In Generation Z, when asked 18 percent said that they did not engage in religious practises (i.e. going to church or synagogue, reading scripture or praying), and half of that 18 percent said they were agnostic, and the other half said that they were atheist. But how did it get to the point at which it is now?
Now there is sometimes credit given to Charles Darwin for the rise of atheism, particularly by socially conservative movements in the United States, and some extreme religious movements, with people dismissing evolution as and I quote ‘just a theory.’ There were other significant figures in the 19th century who either where openly atheist or dismissed religion as and I quote again ‘a human invention.’ Figures such as Karl Marx and Frederick Nietzsche dismissed religion as a lie, and used their influence to spread Atheism. This lack of faith in Karl M arx latter on caused the soviet union to punish religious practises and is a cause the current persecution of religion in north Korea. In the 20th century, religion fell in to decline as result of what is just described and allegedly the rise of scientism, scientific belief, proof and education (although some, including myself, believe that science can co-exist with religion).
The Effect of Modern Atheism
In the United States, in 1948 there was a case in the supreme court that struck down religious education in taxpayer funded schools, in the year 1963 there was a case on the supreme court named Murray vs Curlett which ruled that prayer is not compulsory in taxpayer funded schools. In the year 1966, the American culture magazine Time asked the question ‘is God dead’ (a very similar question to the current theme of this newspaper), as a response to the Death Of God theological movement, which argued that god is dead. Time then made the claim that roughly half of the world’s population live under a anti-religious or atheistic regime, and many people in Aisa and Africa lack the knowledge of the teachings of Jesus Crist and the Christian religion. But please remember that this was in the height of the cold war, and a lot of people lived under the soviet union, where religion was banned. Then in the year 1976 the Freedom from
Religion foundation was formed and now makes up a large ecosystem of Anti -religion organisations, which shows a large change from the early 20 th century and the 19th century.
On this side of the pond, 25.3 million people classify themselves as non -religious, 37 percent of the population. In Australia 38 percent of the population and in New Zealand 48 percent of the population classify as non -religious, which on the poll included atheism.
But what is the impact on western society? Atheism having a large base has changed countries such as the USA that were founded on religious values, and in addition to this, religion provides community in areas throughout the world. Religion can provide a moral handrail to some, and guidance in times of need. Atheism brings with it social change, and to prove this only 185 years ago people were being imprisoned for atheism, and the society was so built on religion that we would not recognise it, but then aga in, a fully atheist society would be completely unrecognizable to even our 21th century eyes. Traditions that are only found in religion will die out. In conclusion, what we generally refer to as the west was built on Jewish and Christian values, so as I h ave pointed out, the society we know will almost definitely be different to what we see today, but then again, the great thing about western society is that it is free to evolve and change, so maybe is will be the same society, but maybe not. Lucky I shall not be there is 2855.
Illustration:
Editor
Dr Nelson
Editorial Board
Saul Grenfell
Ore Adebayo
Tasir Shariff
Lucas Argent
Nazim Khan
(Wikimedia Commons)
Cover
Salvador Dali, Christ of Saint John on the Cross (1951)
