but that presupposes, it will be said, a giver of the grace, about whom I have said nothing.
But so far from omitting the notion of divine reality, I am endeavoring to elucidate its
grammar. It is a misunderstanding to try to get “behind” grace to God, since “grace” is a
synonym for “God.” As with “generosity is good,” so with “the grace of God” we are not
attributing a predicate to an indefinable subject. We are being given a rule for one use of
“good” and “God,” respectively. God's reality and God's divinity, that is, his grace and
love, come to the same thing. God is not “real” in any other sense.
Rush Rhees has expressed the point I am trying to make as follows: “Winston Churchill
may be Prime Minister and also a company director, but I might come to know him
without knowing this. But I could not know God without knowing that he was the Creator
and Father of all things. That would be like saying that I might come to know Churchill
without knowing that he had face, hands, body, voice or any of the attributes of a human
being” (1997c, 61). It is easy to express Rhees's point in a way that does not get to the
heart of the matter.^13 One might say that in the case of Churchill, there is a way I can
refer to him independently of his being prime minister or a company director; there is a
further “it” involved: that human being. Whereas having spoken of the grace and love of
God, there is no further “it” to which they refer. This way of putting the matter gives the
impression that a subject is missing, and it leads, naturally, to the puzzle of how grace or
love can be spoken of without that love or grace being predicated of something. The force
of Rhees's point is different. He is saying that unlike “prime minister” and “company
director,” which are predicated of a human being, we do not predicate “face,” “hands,”
“feet,” and so on of a human being. These are internally related to what we mean by a
human being. Rhees's point is that “grace” and “love” stand to “God” as “face, hands,
feet” stand to human being. In neither
end p.461
case does it make sense to postulate a further bearer of what we are talking of. God is
love. God is grace. To know this love and grace is to know God.
When I have argued in this way, some philosophers have responded by saying that, like
Feuerbach, I have reduced religious belief to a matter of human attitudes. To which I
reply that Feuerbach was right in his rejection of “the metaphysical subject,” but crucially
wrong in his conclusion that, as a result, the divine predicates must become human
predicates, that divine love and grace must become human love and grace. From what has
been said it should be obvious that human attitudes could not occupy the conceptual
space said to be filled by divine love and grace. This can be emphasized further by
bringing out what Feuerbach is at pains to deny, namely, that divine grace is other than
the world (Phillips 2001a).^14 There are at least four reasons for this “otherness.”
First, the spiritual reality called grace is other than the world in that it is other than the
ways of the world, other than worldliness. Second, the spiritual reality is other than the
world in that it makes no sense to speak of any human being possessing this reality in its
fullness. Third, the spiritual reality is other than the world in the sense that believers are
answerable to this reality they can never fully possess and measure themselves with
respect to it. Fourth, the spiritual reality is other than the world insofar as we can be
mistaken about it in being guilty of idolatry. Hence, as Rhees says, “It would be
ridiculous to suggest that religious language was concerned with calling forth certain