Peter John Kreeft, American professor of philosophy, 1937-
“To sum up the argument most simply and essentially, conscience has absolute, exceptionless, binding moral authority over us, demanding unqualified obedience. But only a perfectly good, righteous divine will has this authority and a right to absolute, exceptionless obedience. Therefore conscience is the voice of the will of God.”
— Peter Kreeft, “
Reasons to Believe: The Argument from Conscience,”
Fundamentals of the Faith: Essays in Christian Apologetics, Ignatius Press, 1988
“The simple, intuitive point of the argument from conscience is that everyone in the world knows, deep down, that he is absolutely obligated to be and do good, and this absolute obligation could come only from God. Thus everyone knows God, however obscurely, by this moral intuition, which we usually call conscience. Conscience is the voice of God in the soul...
“Nearly everyone will admit the premise, though. They will often explain it differently, interpret it differently, insist it has nothing to do with God. But that is exactly what the argument tries to show: that once you admit the premise of the authority of conscience, you must admit the conclusion of God...
“Nearly everyone will admit not only the existence of conscience but also its authority. In this age of rebellion against and doubt about nearly every authority, in this age in which the very word authority has changed from a word of respect to a word of scorn, one authority remains: an individual's conscience. Almost no one will say that one ought to sin against one's conscience, disobey one's conscience. Disobey the church, the state, parents, authority figures, but do not disobey your conscience. Thus people usually admit, though not usually in these words, the absolute moral authority and binding obligation of conscience.
“...The second premise is that the only possible source of absolute authority is an absolute perfect will, a divine being. The conclusion follows that such a being exists.”
— Peter Kreeft, “
Reasons to Believe: The Argument from Conscience,”
Fundamentals of the Faith: Essays in Christian Apologetics, Ignatius Press, 1988
J.P. Moreland, American philosopher & theologian, 1948-
“Or consider the arguments for God from the existence of moral value and meaning in life. If God does not exist, it is hard to see how there could be any such thing as prescriptive, nonnatural morality. It just doesn’t seem that the Big Bang could spit out moral values, at least not at the rate it spit out hydrogen atoms.
“As one philosopher [William Lane Craig] put it: ‘In a world without God, mankind could not be more significant than a swarm of mosquitoes or a barnyard of pigs, for the same cosmic process that coughed them both up in the first place will eventually swallow them all up again.’ Even the late J.L. Mackie, perhaps the greatest atheist of our century, said, ‘Moral properties constitute so odd a cluster of qualities and relations that they are most unlikely to have arisen in the ordinary course of events without an all-powerful god to create them.’”
— J.P. Moreland, Does God Exist?, Prometheus Books, 1988 p36
C.S. Lewis, British writer and lay-theologian, 1898-1963
“For example, some people wrote to me saying, ‘Isn’t what you call the Moral Law simply our herd instinct and hasn’t it been developed just like all our other instincts?’ Now I do not deny that we may have a herd instinct; but that is not what I mean by the Moral Law. We all know what it feels like to be prompted by instinct–by mother love, or sexual instinct, or the instinct for food. It means that you feel a strong want or desire to act in a certain way. And, of course, we sometimes do feel just that sort of desire to help another person: and no doubt that desire is due to the herd instinct. But feeling a desire to help is quite different from feeling that you ought to help whether you want to or not. Supposing you hear a cry for help from a man in danger. You will probably feel two desires–one a desire to give help (due to your herd instinct), the other a desire to keep out of danger (due to the instinct for self-preservation). But you will find inside you, in addition to these two impulses, a third thing which tells you that you ought to follow the impulse to help, and suppress the impulse to run away. Now this thing that judges between two instincts, that decides which should be encouraged, cannot itself be either of them. You might as well say that the sheet of music which tells you, at a given moment, to play one note on the piano and not another, is itself one of the notes on the keyboard. The Moral Law tells us the tune we have to play: our instincts are merely the keys.”
— C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity (1952), The C.S. Lewis Signature Classics, HarperOne, 2017 p19-20
“The first is, as I said in the first chapter, that though there are differences between the moral ideas of one time or country and those of another, the differences are not really very great–not nearly so great as most people imagine–and you can recognise the same law running through them all: whereas mere conventions, like the rule of the road or the kind of clothes people wear, may differ to any extent... When you think about these differences between the morality of one people and another, do you think that the morality of one people is ever better or worse than that of another? Have any of the changes been improvements? If not, then of course there could never be any moral progress. Progress means not just changing, but changing for the better. If no set of moral ideas were truer or better than any other, there would be no sense in preferring civilised morality to savage morality, or Christian morality to Nazi morality. In fact, of course, we all do believe that some moralities are better than others. We do believe that some of the people who tried to change the moral ideas of their own age were what we could call Reformers or Pioneers–people who understood morality better than their neighbours did. Very well then. The moment you say that one set of moral ideas can be better than another, you are, in fact, measuring them both by a standard, saying that one of them conforms to that standard more nearly than the other. But the standard that measures two things is something different from either. You are, in fact, comparing them both with some Real Morality, admitting that there is such a thing as a real Right, independent of what people think, and that some people’s ideas get nearer to that real Right than others. Or put it this way. If your moral ideas can be truer, and those of the Nazis less true, there must be something–some Real Morality–for them to be true about. ...In the same way, if the Rule of Decent Behaviour meant simply, ‘whatever each nation happens to approve,’ there would be no sense in saying that any one nation had ever been more correct in its approval than any other; no sense in saying that the world could ever grow morally better or morally worse.
“I conclude then, that though the difference between people’s ideas of Decent Behaviour often make you suspect that there is no real natural Law of Behaviour at all, yet the things we are bound to think about these differences really prove just the opposite...”
— C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity (1952), The C.S. Lewis Signature Classics, HarperOne, 2017 p21-22
“Men ought to be unselfish, ought to be fair. Not that men are unselfish, not that they like being unselfish, but that they ought to be. The Moral Law, or Law of Human Nature, is not simply a fact about human behaviour in the same way as the Law of Gravitation is, or may be, simply a fact about how heavy objects behave. On the other hand, it is not a mere fancy, for we cannot get rid of the idea, and most of the things we say and think about men would be reduced to nonsense if we did. And it is not simply a statement about how we should like men to behave for our own convenience, for the behaviour we call bad or unfair is not exactly the same as the behaviour we find inconvenient, and may even be the opposite. Consequently, this Rule of Right and Wrong, or Law of Human Nature, or whatever you call it, must somehow or other be a real thing–a thing that is really there, not made up by ourselves. And yet it is not a fact in the ordinary sense, in the same way as our actual behaviour is a fact. It begins to look as if we shall have to admit that there is more than one kind of reality; that, in this particular case, there is something above and beyond the ordinary facts of men’s behaviour, and yet quite definitely real–a real law, which none of us made, but which we find pressing us on.”
— C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity (1952), The C.S. Lewis Signature Classics, HarperOne, 2017 p27
“...In the case of stones and trees and things of that sort, what we call the Laws of Nature may not be anything except a way of speaking. When you say that nature is governed by certain laws, this may only mean that nature does, in fact, behave in a certain way. The so-called laws may not be anything real–anything above and beyond the actual facts which we observe. But in the case of Man, we saw that this will not do. The Law of Human Nature, or of Right and Wrong, must be something above and beyond the actual facts of human behaviour. In this case, besides the actual facts, you have something else–a real law which we did not invent and which we know we ought to obey.”
— C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity (1952), The C.S. Lewis Signature Classics, HarperOne, 2017 p28
C.H. Douglas Clark, British inorganic & structural chemistry professor, 1890-19??
“...If we take a moral idea such as [Bertrand Russell’s] condemnation of cruelty, where does it arise? Does the moral imperative emanate from God? The philosophers say that there is no proof that it does: they argue that, before we ask these questions, there is another which must be settled. Are moral values, such as dislike of cruelty, independent entities; in other words, have they absolute qualities? They claim that whichever way we answer this question, yes or no, we have no evidence for God. If we say that hatred of cruelty is absolute, then it can exist independently of God; if we say it is not absolute, we lose the argument for God as necessary to explain where the absolute comes from. So it is: heads they win, tails we lose. Moreover, the agnostic philosophers have found other possible causes than God for the moral sense: that it depends on feeling or on taste, that it promotes the greatest happiness of the greatest number, that it is what we were taught to believe as children, or that it has arisen in us through fear of disapproval or of punishment...
“...Now from our point of view, if God exists, there must be a difference between His absolute Self and His attributes; from His standpoint, we presume the difference would be non-existent, if He has no parts, and is ONE God. When we tried to account for the world’s existence we found it necessary, or at least helpful, to suppose that it and all it contains might be explained as an Idea in the mind of God. When we come to moral values, so far as we can see, this explanation does not work in the same way. The reason for this becomes clear if we make one simple proposition: that the highest moral values do not simply emanate from God, but that they are God, an identification which seems to solve the problem. It is a truly Christian concept embodied, for example, in the statement that God is Love (1 John 4:8, 16). With God, Being and character are one. In this way, the Christian religion seems the only one to which the philosophic objection is inapplicable. We do not know of any similar identification in any other system: if some Eastern or other religion has made it, the same justification could be claimed. Otherwise, we must contend that [Russell] has been singularly unfortunate in selecting for attack the only religion which can successfully defend itself against it.”
— C.H. Douglas Clark, Christianity and Bertrand Russell: A Critique of the Essay: ‘Why I Am Not a Christian,’ Lutterworth Press, 1958 p34-36