Difficulties in Christian belief – Alasdair MacIntyre

A Philosophical Examination of Faith’s Intellectual Obstacles

Preface and Introduction

We begin with MacIntyre’s opening remarks, where he establishes the purpose and audience for the work. He writes that the book is intended for “those who find themselves unable to accept Christian beliefs, yet who are also unable to dismiss them as simply meaningless or unimportant.” The work is not a comprehensive defense of Christianity, nor a simple attack upon it, but rather a careful examination of the specific intellectual difficulties that stand between thoughtful people and Christian faith.

MacIntyre states his position clearly from the outset: he writes as a Christian believer, but one who takes the objections to Christianity seriously. He argues that many who reject Christianity do so not out of indifference but because they encounter genuine intellectual problems. The book therefore proceeds by taking up the most common and serious of these difficulties one by one. Each chapter addresses a distinct problem, presenting the objection in its strongest form before exploring how a Christian might respond. MacIntyre insists that he does not offer easy answers or cheap resolutions. His aim is to show that the difficulties are real, that they require honest confrontation, and that some responses are more intellectually coherent than others.

The introduction also establishes the book’s method. MacIntyre refuses to treat Christian belief as a single monolithic proposition that must be either accepted whole or rejected whole. Instead, he breaks it down into distinct claims — about God, about Jesus, about morality, about prayer, about life after death — and examines the difficulties that attach to each. He writes that “the Christian faith is not a single proposition but a set of interrelated beliefs” and that each must be considered on its own terms. This approach allows the reader to see precisely where their own difficulties lie, and to engage with them directly rather than being overwhelmed by the entire edifice at once.

“The difficulties which I discuss in this book are not the only difficulties which confront the Christian; but they are the ones which seem to me to be the most important and the most widespread.”

What MacIntyre accomplishes here is essential for the entire project. By framing the work as a dialogue with the sceptic rather than a monologue from the believer, he creates space for genuine intellectual inquiry. He acknowledges that faith is not arrived at by ignoring problems but by working through them. The reader understands from the start that this will be a rigorous engagement, not a comforting sermon.

Chapter One: The Problem of Evil — Part One: The Existence of Evil

We are now at the first major difficulty MacIntyre addresses: the problem of evil. He begins by stating the problem in its simplest form. If God is all-powerful and all-good, then evil should not exist. Yet evil plainly does exist. This appears to present a logical contradiction at the heart of Christian theism. MacIntyre writes that “the existence of evil seems to be incompatible with the existence of the God whom Christians worship.”

MacIntyre then distinguishes between two kinds of evil: moral evil, which results from human choices and actions, and natural evil, which results from natural processes such as earthquakes, disease, and birth defects. He notes that each type raises somewhat different questions, but both ultimately challenge the claim that God is both omnipotent and benevolent. He presents the classic formulation of the problem as it appears in Epicurus and, later, in David Hume: God either wishes to prevent evil but cannot, in which case he is not omnipotent; or he can prevent evil but does not wish to, in which case he is not benevolent; or he neither wishes nor can prevent it, in which case he is neither.

MacIntyre then turns to the standard Christian responses that have been offered historically. He examines the free will defence, which holds that moral evil is the price of creating beings with genuine freedom. If God created humans with the capacity to choose love and goodness freely, he necessarily created them with the capacity to choose evil. A world without the possibility of evil would be a world without the possibility of freely chosen good. MacIntyre states this argument fairly, noting that it has considerable force when applied to moral evil. However, he immediately presses the difficulty further: this defence does little to explain natural evil, which is not the product of human choice.

MacIntyre also considers the argument that evil serves a greater good, that suffering builds character, or that God’s purposes are inscrutable to finite minds. He acknowledges that such responses have a long tradition in Christian theology but cautions that they can easily become empty if they are not carefully articulated. The chapter ends by setting up the problem without resolving it, indicating that more work must be done.

“If God is all-powerful, He could prevent evil; if He is all-good, He would wish to prevent it; but evil exists; therefore, either God is not all-powerful, or He is not all-good, or He does not exist.”

What MacIntyre achieves here is to present the problem of evil in its full force without immediately rushing to a solution. He treats the objection as genuinely weighty, worthy of sustained attention. The reader who finds this difficulty compelling is not dismissed or patronized. Instead, MacIntyre shows that he understands why it is a stumbling block, and he commits himself to exploring it honestly in the chapters that follow. This establishes a tone of intellectual seriousness that runs through the entire work.

Chapter One: The Problem of Evil — Part Two: The Christian Response

MacIntyre now moves from stating the problem to examining what a coherent Christian response might look like. He begins by rejecting certain inadequate answers. He argues that it is not enough to say that evil is an illusion, or that it does not really exist. For Christians, who believe in a creator God who is love, the reality of evil must be confronted, not explained away. He also rejects the idea that evil is simply the absence of good, a privation, as insufficient in itself, though he acknowledges that this concept has a place in the broader tradition.

The core of MacIntyre’s response turns on the incarnation and crucifixion of Jesus Christ. He writes that Christianity does not offer a theoretical explanation of why evil exists, but rather a practical response to it. In the cross, God enters into human suffering and takes it upon himself. God does not stand aloof from evil, looking down upon it from a safe distance; rather, God enters the very heart of it. MacIntyre argues that this is a crucial shift in perspective. The Christian claim is not that God has a good reason for allowing evil that we can fully comprehend, but that God has chosen to share in that evil, to suffer alongside humanity, and to overcome it through resurrection.

MacIntyre then develops this point by exploring the concept of redemptive suffering. He acknowledges that this is a difficult and controversial idea, but he insists that it is central to the New Testament. The suffering of Christ is not meaningless; it is the means by which sin and death are overcome. And Christians are called to participate in this redemptive work through their own suffering, offered in union with Christ. MacIntyre is careful not to romanticize suffering or to suggest that it is always good. He distinguishes between suffering that is destructive and dehumanizing and suffering that, when taken up into the pattern of Christ’s life, can become transformative.

“The Christian answer to the problem of evil is not an answer which removes the problem; it is an answer which transforms it. The cross is the place where God meets evil and overcomes it, not by explaining it away, but by enduring it.”

In clarifying this, we see that MacIntyre is not offering a theodicy in the traditional sense — a justification of God’s ways to humanity. Rather, he is pointing to a different way of understanding the relationship between God and evil. The Christian faith does not claim that evil is not really evil, nor that it is somehow good in disguise. It claims that God enters into evil and defeats it from within. This does not resolve every intellectual difficulty, but it shifts the ground of the discussion. The reader is left to consider whether this response has genuine force, or whether it merely restates the problem in religious language. MacIntyre does not pretend to have the final word, but he has laid out a distinctively Christian approach with clarity and depth.

Chapter Two: The Problem of Prayer — Part One: How Does Prayer Work?

We now move to the second major difficulty: prayer. MacIntyre begins by observing that many people find prayer problematic, but for different reasons. Some find it intellectually difficult to believe that prayer could have any effect on a God who is omniscient and unchanging. Others find it morally problematic, asking why a good God would seem to grant some prayers while ignoring others. MacIntyre sets out to examine these difficulties systematically.

He first considers the most common objection: if God knows what we need before we ask, why should we pray at all? And if God’s will is unchangeable, how could our prayers possibly alter anything? MacIntyre calls this the problem of prayer’s efficacy. He notes that Christians themselves have struggled with this question throughout history. Some have answered by saying that prayer changes us, not God — that its purpose is to align our will with God’s will rather than to persuade God to change his mind. MacIntyre acknowledges that this is a common and plausible response, but he questions whether it is sufficient. The New Testament seems to speak of prayer as genuinely petitionary, as asking for things and receiving answers.

MacIntyre then turns to the specific category of petitionary prayer — prayer that asks for something, whether for oneself or for others. He examines the biblical material, noting that Jesus himself taught his disciples to pray for daily bread, for forgiveness, and for deliverance from evil. The Gospels present prayer as an activity that makes a real difference in the world. MacIntyre argues that any Christian account of prayer must take this seriously. It cannot reduce prayer to mere psychological self-adjustment.

The chapter then discusses the relationship between prayer and God’s providence. MacIntyre suggests that Christians understand God’s governance of the world as including the prayers of his creatures. That is, God ordains not only the ends but also the means, and prayer is one of the means by which God accomplishes his purposes. This does not mean that prayer is a mechanism for getting whatever we want. It means that God has chosen to make some of his actions contingent upon our prayers. This is a mystery, MacIntyre admits, but it is not a logical contradiction.

“Prayer is not an attempt to change God’s mind; it is the expression of our dependence upon God, and it is the means by which God works in the world through our asking.”

Here MacIntyre is doing something important: he is distinguishing between a superficial understanding of prayer as magic or manipulation and a deeper theological understanding of prayer as participation in God’s work. The difficulty remains, however, because many who pray do not receive what they ask for. This leads directly into the second part of the chapter, where MacIntyre addresses the problem of unanswered prayer. The reader is left with the challenge: if prayer is truly effective, why does it so often seem to fail?

Chapter Two: The Problem of Prayer — Part Two: The Problem of Unanswered Prayer

We are now in the second half of the chapter on prayer, where MacIntyre shifts from the mechanism of petitionary prayer to the lived experience of those who pray and do not receive what they ask for. This section directly confronts the pastoral and intellectual crisis that arises when prayers appear to go unheard.

MacIntyre begins by stating the problem plainly: “Many Christians pray and do not receive what they ask for. This is a fact of experience.” He acknowledges that this experience can be deeply troubling, leading some to doubt whether God exists, whether God cares, or whether prayer itself is meaningful. The difficulty is not theoretical but existential. A parent prays for a sick child, and the child dies. A believer prays for strength in temptation, and falls into sin. A congregation prays for peace in the world, and war continues. In each case, the apparent failure of prayer threatens to undermine the believer’s trust in God.

The author then examines several inadequate responses to this problem. One common response is to say that God always answers prayer, but sometimes the answer is “no.” MacIntyre finds this unsatisfactory because it seems to reduce prayer to a lottery: one prays and either wins or loses, with no real connection between the prayer and the outcome. A second inadequate response is to claim that unanswered prayer is due to lack of faith, citing Jesus’s statement that “if you have faith as a grain of mustard seed, you shall say to this mountain, ‘Move hence to yonder place,’ and it shall move” (Matthew 17:20). MacIntyre argues that this interpretation can be cruel, as it blames the sufferer for their own suffering and ignores the genuine faith of many whose prayers go unanswered. A third inadequate response is to say that we do not know God’s purposes, and so we cannot judge why prayers are not answered. While this contains some truth, MacIntyre warns that it can become a facile way of avoiding the problem rather than engaging with it.

Having cleared the ground of inadequate responses, MacIntyre presents a more constructive approach. He argues that we must distinguish between different kinds of prayer and different kinds of requests. Some prayers are for temporal goods: health, prosperity, success. Others are for spiritual goods: forgiveness, strength, perseverance. Still others are for the coming of God’s kingdom. The problem of unanswered prayer is most acute with prayers for temporal goods, because these are the most visible and the most emotionally charged. However, MacIntyre suggests that the Christian tradition has never promised that God will grant every request for temporal goods. Rather, it promises that God will give what is ultimately good for us, and that may not always be what we ask for.

“The Christian is not promised that he will get what he asks for, but that God will give him what is best for him. And what is best for him may be something very different from what he asks for.”

MacIntyre develops this point by drawing on the Lord’s Prayer as a model. When Jesus taught his disciples to pray, he did not teach them to ask for specific temporal goods. Instead, he taught them to pray for the hallowing of God’s name, the coming of God’s kingdom, and daily bread — a petition that Augustine interpreted as a request for sufficient provision rather than abundance. The Lord’s Prayer thus reorients the believer’s desires toward God’s purposes rather than personal wants. Prayer is not a mechanism for getting what we want; it is a discipline for learning to want what God wants.

The author then introduces the concept of sanctification as the context for understanding unanswered prayer. Sanctification is the process by which Christians are gradually made holy, conformed to the image of Christ. MacIntyre argues that unanswered prayer can be a means of sanctification, teaching patience, humility, and dependence on God. He quotes the apostle Paul’s “thorn in the flesh” (2 Corinthians 12:7-10), where Paul prayed three times for its removal, and God replied, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Here, the unanswered prayer was not a sign of God’s indifference but a means of deepening Paul’s reliance on divine grace.

MacIntyre also addresses the problem of praying for others — intercessory prayer. If someone prays for a friend’s recovery and the friend does not recover, what should one conclude? The author argues that intercessory prayer should not be understood as an attempt to override God’s will but as a way of participating in God’s love for that person. When we intercede for another, we align ourselves with God’s concern for them, and we open ourselves to being used by God in their lives, whether through our actions, our presence, or our words. The outcome of intercessory prayer is not guaranteed in the sense of a specific result, but the prayer itself is always effective in strengthening the bond of love between the one who prays and the one prayed for, and between both and God.

Chapter Three: Miracles — Part One: The Definition and Possibility of Miracles

We move now to the third chapter, where MacIntyre takes up the topic of miracles. This section lays the groundwork by defining what a miracle is and examining whether the concept is coherent within a modern scientific worldview. The difficulty here is that many people in the modern world find miracles impossible or at least highly improbable, and this poses a challenge to Christian belief, which depends on miracles such as the resurrection of Jesus.

MacIntyre begins by offering a definition of a miracle. He draws on the classic formulation of Augustine and Thomas Aquinas: a miracle is an event that exceeds the powers of created nature and is therefore attributable to God’s direct action. More precisely, MacIntyre defines a miracle as “an event which is a violation of the laws of nature, and which is brought about by God.” He acknowledges that this definition raises immediate problems. If a miracle is a violation of the laws of nature, how can we know when such a violation has occurred? And if the laws of nature are themselves established by God, why would God violate them?

The author then examines the influential critique of miracles by the eighteenth-century philosopher David Hume. Hume argued that belief in miracles is irrational because the evidence against a miracle — the uniform experience of the laws of nature — is always stronger than the evidence for it. MacIntyre presents Hume’s argument in some detail. Hume claimed that a wise person proportions belief to the evidence, and that the evidence for a miracle is always outweighed by the evidence that the laws of nature are exceptionless. Furthermore, Hume argued that the testimony for miracles typically comes from ignorant and barbarous people, or from those with a vested interest in promoting belief in the miraculous.

MacIntyre does not simply dismiss Hume’s argument. Instead, he examines its assumptions critically. He points out that Hume’s definition of a miracle as a violation of the laws of nature depends on a particular view of what the laws of nature are. If the laws of nature are seen as describing what always happens, then a miracle is impossible by definition. But if the laws of nature are seen as describing what normally happens, allowing for exceptions, then a miracle becomes a rare but possible event. MacIntyre argues that the latter view is more consistent with the practice of science itself, which allows for anomalies and revises its laws in light of new evidence.

“The laws of nature are not a set of rules which events must obey; they are generalizations which we make on the basis of our experience. If we encounter an event which does not fit our generalizations, we may revise our generalizations.”

MacIntyre also addresses the question of whether belief in miracles is compatible with a scientific worldview. He argues that science does not rule out miracles a priori, because science is descriptive rather than prescriptive. Science describes what happens regularly, but it cannot rule out the possibility of irregular events. The real question is one of evidence: is there credible testimony for a particular miracle? This shifts the problem from a philosophical objection to an empirical and historical one. MacIntyre concludes that the possibility of miracles cannot be dismissed on purely philosophical grounds. The question is whether the evidence for specific miracles, especially the resurrection of Jesus, is strong enough to warrant belief.

Chapter Three: Miracles — Part Two: The Evidence for Miracles

We continue in the third chapter, where MacIntyre now turns from the philosophical question of whether miracles are possible to the historical question of whether they have actually occurred. This section examines the nature of the evidence for miracles, with particular attention to the miracles recorded in the New Testament and the resurrection of Jesus as the central miracle of Christianity.

MacIntyre begins by noting that the evidence for miracles is always testimonial: we depend on the reports of others who claim to have witnessed them. This raises the question of the reliability of testimony. The author acknowledges that testimony can be mistaken or fraudulent, and that we must evaluate it critically. However, he argues that we cannot reject all testimony a priori, because we depend on testimony for most of our knowledge of the past. If we were to require direct personal experience for every belief, we would know almost nothing about history, geography, or science.

The author then examines the specific testimony for the miracles of Jesus in the Gospels. He acknowledges that the Gospels are not neutral historical documents but are written from a perspective of faith. However, he argues that this does not automatically disqualify them as sources of historical information. The Gospels were written within a few decades of the events they describe, they contain multiple independent accounts, and they include details that would be embarrassing to the early Christian community (such as the women being the first witnesses to the resurrection, which carried little weight in first-century Jewish culture). These factors suggest that the Gospels are not pure invention but contain genuine historical material.

MacIntyre then focuses on the resurrection of Jesus, which he calls “the central miracle of Christianity, the one upon which the whole faith depends.” He notes that the apostle Paul wrote in 1 Corinthians 15 that if Christ has not been raised, Christian faith is futile. The resurrection is not one miracle among many but the decisive act of God that validates Jesus’s claims and inaugurates the new creation.

“If Jesus did not rise from the dead, then Christianity is false. If he did rise, then Christianity is true. The whole weight of Christian apologetic rests on this one event.”

The author presents the historical evidence for the resurrection in several lines. First, there is the empty tomb: the Gospel accounts agree that the tomb was found empty on the third day after Jesus’s crucifixion. Various alternative explanations have been offered — the disciples stole the body, the women went to the wrong tomb, Jesus did not actually die on the cross — but MacIntyre argues that none of these explanations adequately accounts for the evidence. Second, there are the post-resurrection appearances: multiple individuals and groups reported seeing Jesus alive after his death. These appearances were not fleeting visions but extended encounters involving touch and conversation. Third, there is the transformation of the disciples: men who had fled in fear at Jesus’s arrest became bold proclaimers of his resurrection, willing to suffer and die for their testimony. This transformation is difficult to explain if they had fabricated the resurrection.

MacIntyre acknowledges that the evidence for the resurrection is not demonstrative in the way that a mathematical proof is demonstrative. It does not compel belief in the same way that a logical argument compels assent. However, he argues that it is sufficient to warrant belief as a matter of reasonable judgment. The resurrection is not a conclusion that can be proved beyond all possible doubt, but it is a conclusion that can be accepted on the balance of probabilities. The Christian is not asked to believe without evidence but to weigh the evidence and make a judgment.

Chapter Four: The Problem of Sin — Part One: The Nature of Sin

We are now in the fourth chapter of the book, where MacIntyre turns from external objections to Christianity (evil, prayer, miracles) to an internal problem: the doctrine of sin itself. This section defines what sin is, distinguishing the Christian concept from mere moral failure or social transgression.

MacIntyre begins by acknowledging that the very concept of sin is deeply unfashionable in modern thought. For many contemporary readers, the word “sin” carries connotations of guilt, repression, and outmoded religious scolding. It is often dismissed as a psychological mechanism used to control people or as a relic of primitive superstition. But MacIntyre insists that the Christian doctrine of sin must first be understood on its own terms before it can be evaluated. He writes that the Christian view is not simply that human beings sometimes do bad things, but that there is something fundamentally wrong with the human condition itself.

The key distinction MacIntyre draws is between particular sins and the state of sin. Particular sins are individual wrongful acts — lies, thefts, adulteries, murders. These are the concrete manifestations of a deeper problem. The state of sin, by contrast, refers to the orientation of the human will away from God. It is not merely that we commit sins, but that we are in a condition of estrangement from our Creator. This condition is what Christian theology calls original sin — not that we are personally guilty of Adam’s transgression, but that we inherit a disordered nature that inclines us toward selfishness and rebellion.

“Sin is not just the doing of certain actions; it is a state of the will, a condition of the whole personality. It is a turning away from God, a refusal to acknowledge our dependence upon Him, a claim to be our own masters.”

MacIntyre elaborates that this concept of sin makes sense only within the framework of the Christian understanding of God and creation. If God is the source of all being and goodness, then to turn away from God is not merely to break a rule but to rupture the fundamental relationship that gives life meaning. Sin is thus a kind of ontological disorder — a misalignment of the creature with its Creator. It is not simply a matter of breaking a divine law but of rejecting the very ground of one’s existence. This is why sin is described in the Bible not just as lawlessness but as idolatry — the worship of something finite in place of the infinite God.

What this means within the work is that MacIntyre is establishing the gravity of the problem that Christianity claims to solve. If sin were merely a matter of occasional moral lapses, then education, social reform, or psychological therapy might be sufficient remedies. But if sin is a condition of the whole person — a deep-seated rebellion of the will — then nothing less than a radical transformation is required. This sets the stage for the Christian doctrines of atonement and grace, which MacIntyre will examine in subsequent chapters. The doctrine of sin is not presented as a gloomy doctrine for its own sake, but as the necessary diagnosis that makes the Christian remedy intelligible.

Chapter Four: The Problem of Sin — Part Two: The Universality of Sin

Having defined sin as a condition of the will, MacIntyre now addresses the claim that this condition is universal — that all human beings are in a state of sin. This section presents the biblical and theological arguments for the universality of sin and responds to common objections.

MacIntyre points to the testimony of Scripture, particularly the Apostle Paul’s argument in Romans 3 that “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” This is not presented as an empirical observation but as a theological judgment about the human condition. Paul is not saying that every individual has committed the same number or kind of sins, but that no one is exempt from the fundamental disorder of sin. The Christian tradition has consistently affirmed that sin is a universal phenomenon, affecting every human being except Jesus Christ, who is understood to be without sin.

The objection that immediately arises is whether this is fair. If sin is a condition inherited from Adam, how can it be just for God to hold human beings responsible for something they did not choose? MacIntyre addresses this by clarifying the relationship between original sin and actual sin. Original sin is not a personal guilt imputed to each individual; it is a condition of spiritual death and moral weakness that we inherit by virtue of being born into a fallen humanity. Actual sin is the personal, voluntary act of wrongdoing that each individual commits. It is actual sin for which we are personally responsible, not the inherited condition itself.

“The doctrine of original sin does not mean that we are punished for Adam’s sin, but that we are born into a situation in which we are prone to sin, and that this proneness is itself a consequence of the sin of our first parents. We are not guilty for what they did, but we are damaged by it.”

MacIntyre further argues that the universality of sin is confirmed by human experience. He points to the phenomenon of moral failure — the fact that even when we know what is good, we often fail to do it. We experience a divided will, a conflict between what we ought to do and what we actually want to do. This is not merely a matter of ignorance; it is a matter of disordered desire. The Apostle Paul’s lament in Romans 7 — “the good that I would I do not, and the evil that I would not, that I do” — resonates with anyone who has honestly examined their own moral life. This universal experience of moral weakness points toward the reality of sin as a condition.

Within the structure of the book, this section serves to connect the doctrine of sin to human experience. MacIntyre is not content to rest with biblical authority alone; he wants to show that the doctrine makes sense of what we observe in ourselves and others. The universality of sin explains why moral progress is so difficult, why utopian projects so often fail, and why human beings seem incapable of achieving lasting peace and justice on their own. It also explains why Christianity insists on the necessity of divine grace — if sin is universal and deeply rooted, then no human effort can overcome it. The diagnosis prepares the way for the remedy.

Chapter Four: The Problem of Sin — Part Three: Sin and Responsibility

In this section, MacIntyre confronts a major difficulty posed by the doctrine of sin: if sin is a condition that we inherit and cannot escape by our own power, how can we be held morally responsible for it? This is the problem of determinism and responsibility, and MacIntyre navigates it carefully within the Christian framework.

MacIntyre begins by rejecting the idea that the doctrine of sin implies a kind of theological determinism in which human beings are merely puppets of their fallen nature. He insists that the Christian tradition has always maintained that human beings remain responsible for their actions, even if their wills are damaged by sin. The distinction is between compulsion and inclination. A person who is inclined toward selfishness is not compelled to act selfishly in every situation; they retain the ability to choose otherwise, even if that choice is difficult. Sin weakens the will but does not destroy it. The freedom to choose remains, even if it is a freedom-in-bondage — a freedom that is real but constrained by disordered desires.

“We are not forced to sin; we sin because we want to. Our wills are not neutral; they are biased towards evil. But this bias does not remove our responsibility, because we are still the agents of our actions. We choose what we want, and what we want is shaped by our fallen nature.”

MacIntyre addresses the objection that this seems unfair: if our nature is fallen, how can God hold us accountable for acting in accordance with that nature? He responds by pointing out that the Christian doctrine of sin includes the idea that we are complicit in our own fallenness. We do not merely suffer from sin as a disease; we actively embrace it. We ratify and reinforce our sinful condition through our choices. Every act of sin deepens the bondage, and we are responsible for each act because we freely choose it. The condition of sin is not an excuse; it is an aggravating factor, because it means that our sin is not an aberration but a reflection of who we have become.

The section also explores the role of ignorance in sin. MacIntyre acknowledges that not all sin is committed with full knowledge and deliberate intention. Some sins are committed in ignorance, and the Christian tradition has recognized degrees of culpability based on knowledge. However, MacIntyre argues that ignorance itself is often a consequence of sin — we do not know the good because we have suppressed it, because we have refused to listen, because we have hardened our hearts. This is what the Bible calls hardening of the heart, a process by which repeated sin dulls the moral sensibility until evil begins to seem natural.

This matters within the work because it shows MacIntyre grappling with a genuine difficulty rather than glossing over it. The problem of sin and responsibility is a perennial challenge for Christian theology, and MacIntyre does not pretend to offer a complete solution. Instead, he clarifies the terms of the problem and shows how the Christian tradition has understood the relationship between sin and freedom. The result is a nuanced position: human beings are genuinely responsible for their sins, but they cannot overcome sin without divine assistance. This sets up the next major doctrine — atonement — as the only adequate response to the human predicament.

Chapter Five: The Problem of the Atonement — Part One: What Must Atonement Accomplish?

We now move to Chapter Five, which addresses one of the most central and difficult Christian doctrines: the atonement. How does the death of Jesus Christ reconcile sinners to God? This section sets the stage by defining what the atonement must accomplish if it is to solve the problem of sin.

MacIntyre begins by recapitulating the problem that the atonement is meant to solve. Sin, as established in the previous chapter, is a condition of estrangement from God. It is not merely a violation of rules but a broken relationship. The human race is in a state of alienation from its Creator, and this alienation has consequences. It means that human beings are subject to divine judgment — not because God is vindictive, but because sin is inherently destructive and must be dealt with. A holy God cannot simply overlook sin, because to do so would be to condone evil and to betray His own nature. The atonement must therefore address both the guilt and the power of sin.

“The problem of the atonement is the problem of how God can forgive sin without compromising His justice, and how He can restore sinners to fellowship with Himself without treating their sin as if it did not matter.”

MacIntyre lays out several requirements that any adequate theory of atonement must satisfy. First, it must deal with the objective dimension of sin — the fact that sin creates a real barrier between God and humanity. Something must happen on God’s side, so to speak, to remove that barrier. Second, it must deal with the subjective dimension — the fact that sinners need to be transformed from within, to have their hearts changed so that they can truly receive forgiveness. Third, the atonement must be something that God accomplishes, since human beings cannot save themselves. And fourth, it must be something that involves human agency, since the atonement must be appropriated by faith.

MacIntyre emphasizes that the Christian doctrine of atonement is not a theory that human beings invented to explain how forgiveness works. It is rooted in the biblical narrative of God’s action in history, culminating in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. The atonement is not a philosophical concept but an event — something that happened. The task of theology is to understand the meaning of that event. MacIntyre acknowledges that the New Testament uses a variety of images and metaphors to describe the atonement: sacrifice, ransom, reconciliation, propitiation, victory. No single image exhausts its meaning, and each captures a different aspect of what Christ accomplished.

This section serves as a framework for the detailed examination of atonement theories that follows. MacIntyre is not advocating for one particular theory at this point; he is establishing the criteria that any satisfactory theory must meet. The reader is being prepared to evaluate the various theories critically, rather than simply accepting one of them as the official Christian position. This approach reflects MacIntyre’s overall method: he presents the difficulties honestly and then works through possible responses, allowing the reader to see the strengths and weaknesses of each.

Chapter Five: The Problem of the Atonement — Part Two: Theories of the Atonement

In this section, MacIntyre surveys the major theories of the atonement that have been developed in Christian history. He presents each theory in its own terms, explaining how it understands the work of Christ, and then offers a critical assessment of its strengths and limitations.

The first theory MacIntyre examines is the ransom theory, which was dominant in the early church. According to this view, humanity was held captive by Satan, and Christ’s death was the ransom price paid to Satan to secure humanity’s release. MacIntyre notes that this theory has the advantage of presenting the atonement as a dramatic victory — Christ conquers the powers of evil and liberates the captives. However, it has serious problems. It seems to imply that Satan has a legitimate claim on humanity and that God must bargain with him. It also struggles to explain why a ransom would need to be paid to Satan, who is a rebel and a liar. The ransom theory is more poetic than precise.

The second theory is the satisfaction theory, associated primarily with Anselm of Canterbury. Anselm argued that sin is an infinite offense against God’s honor, and that only an infinite being can make adequate satisfaction. Since humanity owes a debt it cannot pay, God the Son becomes human in order to pay the debt on humanity’s behalf. MacIntyre explains that this theory has the advantage of focusing on the objective reality of sin and the necessity of atonement. It takes seriously the seriousness of sin and the holiness of God. However, critics have objected that it portrays God as a feudal lord whose honor must be appeased, and that it seems to separate the Father from the Son, as if the Father is angry and the Son must pacify Him.

“Anselm’s theory has the great merit of insisting that the atonement is not arbitrary but necessary. God must deal with sin in a way that befits His nature. But it has been criticized for making the atonement too much like a commercial transaction in which a debt is paid.”

The third theory is the moral influence theory, associated with Peter Abelard. According to this view, Christ’s death is not a payment to God or a victory over Satan, but a demonstration of God’s love that awakens a response of love in human hearts. The atonement works by changing us, not by changing God’s attitude toward us. MacIntyre acknowledges that this theory captures an important truth — the atonement does indeed reveal God’s love and inspire love in return. But he argues that it is inadequate by itself. It does not explain how sin is actually dealt with; it only describes how we are moved to repentance. It assumes that forgiveness is simply a matter of God deciding to forgive, without any objective transaction needed.

The fourth theory is the penal substitution theory, associated with the Protestant Reformers. This view holds that Christ, on the cross, bore the punishment that sinners deserved. God’s justice was satisfied by Christ taking the penalty of sin upon Himself. MacIntyre presents this theory as the most common in evangelical Protestantism, but he also notes its difficulties. It can appear to portray God as a wrathful judge who must be appeased by the suffering of an innocent victim. It also raises questions about how Christ’s suffering can be transferred to sinners unless there is some kind of legal fiction.

What MacIntyre does in this section is not to endorse one theory but to show that each captures an aspect of the biblical testimony. The ransom theory emphasizes victory over evil; the satisfaction theory emphasizes the seriousness of sin; the moral influence theory emphasizes the love of God; the penal substitution theory emphasizes the justice of God. He suggests that a fully adequate understanding of the atonement must incorporate elements of all these theories, even if no single theory can exhaust the mystery. The atonement is too rich and multifaceted to be captured by one image or concept.

Chapter Five: The Problem of the Atonement — Part Three: The Significance of the Cross

We are in the final movement of MacIntyre’s treatment of the atonement, where he shifts from examining competing theories to exploring what the cross actually accomplishes and how it relates to the believer’s life.

MacIntyre begins by stating that the atonement is not merely a past event with abstract consequences but a present reality that transforms human existence. He writes: “The cross is not just something that happened once, long ago; it is the place where the power of God is manifested in judgment and mercy, and where the believer is invited to participate.” The atonement, in other words, has both an objective dimension (what God accomplished in Christ) and a subjective dimension (what happens in the believer through faith).

The author then presents the biblical teaching that the cross accomplishes several things simultaneously. First, it is a revelation of God’s character — specifically, of both His holiness and His love. On the cross, God’s judgment against sin is fully displayed, because the Son bears the full weight of that judgment. But equally, God’s love is fully displayed, because He does not abandon humanity to its fate but provides the means of salvation. MacIntyre quotes the apostle Paul: “God was in Christ reconciling the world to Himself” (2 Corinthians 5:19). The cross is therefore not a transaction between an angry Father and a loving Son; it is the unified act of the triune God.

Second, the cross accomplishes a defeat of the powers of evil. MacIntyre draws on the ransom theory here, noting that the New Testament frequently speaks of Christ’s work as a victory over sin, death, and the devil. Colossians 2:15 describes Christ as “disarming the rulers and authorities” and “triumphing over them by the cross.” This is not a metaphorical triumph but a real cosmic victory. Evil is not merely forgiven; it is overcome. The resurrection is the proof that this victory is decisive.

Third, the cross establishes a new covenant between God and humanity. MacIntyre explains that the Old Testament sacrifices were repeated because they could never fully deal with sin; they pointed forward to a perfect sacrifice. Christ’s once-for-all offering fulfills and supersedes the entire sacrificial system. The author cites Hebrews 10:10: “We have been sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all.” This means that the atonement is complete and sufficient; nothing more needs to be added.

What MacIntyre is doing here is synthesizing the theories he has already examined into a coherent picture of what the cross actually achieves. The revelation of God’s character corresponds to the moral influence theory’s emphasis on God’s love, but it adds the dimension of judgment that the moral influence theory tends to neglect. The defeat of evil corresponds to the ransom theory. The new covenant corresponds to the satisfaction and penal substitution theories’ emphasis on dealing with sin’s legal and relational consequences. By holding these together, MacIntyre shows that the atonement is multidimensional: it addresses the objective problem of guilt, the cosmic problem of evil, and the subjective problem of human alienation from God.

Chapter Five: The Problem of the Atonement — Part Four: The Appropriation of the Atonement

MacIntyre now turns to the question of how the benefits of the atonement become effective in the life of the individual believer. This is the transition from objective atonement to subjective appropriation — from what Christ did to how we receive it.

The author begins by stating clearly that the atonement is not automatically applied to everyone. He writes: “The benefits of Christ’s death are not magically or mechanically transmitted to all human beings; they must be appropriated by faith.” This raises the question of what faith is and how it operates. MacIntyre defines faith not as intellectual assent to doctrines but as personal trust in Christ and His work. It is the act by which the individual identifies with Christ, accepts His sacrifice as sufficient, and commits to following Him.

MacIntyre then explores the New Testament concept of being “in Christ” . This phrase, used repeatedly by Paul, indicates that believers are united with Christ in His death and resurrection. Romans 6:3-4 speaks of being “baptized into His death” so that “we too might walk in newness of life.” This union is not merely legal or forensic; it is a real participation in the life of Christ. The atonement is not just a transaction that leaves the believer unchanged; it is the beginning of a transformative relationship.

The author then addresses the relationship between faith and works. He acknowledges that some Christians have interpreted Paul’s teaching on justification by faith to mean that works are irrelevant. MacIntyre argues that this is a misunderstanding. True faith inevitably produces good works, not as the basis of salvation but as its fruit. James 2:17 states that “faith without works is dead.” MacIntyre explains that works are the evidence that faith is genuine; they are not added to faith but flow from it. The atonement, therefore, has ethical implications: it calls the believer to a life of holiness, love, and service.

Finally, MacIntyre discusses the role of the sacraments in appropriating the atonement. Baptism and the Lord’s Supper are not magical rituals but means of grace through which the believer encounters Christ and is reminded of His sacrifice. The Lord’s Supper, in particular, is a proclamation of the Lord’s death until He comes (1 Corinthians 11:26). It is a repeated act of participation in the benefits of the cross. MacIntyre is careful to say that the sacraments do not add anything to the atonement’s sufficiency but are the divinely appointed means by which believers are strengthened in their faith.

This section matters because it prevents the atonement from becoming a merely abstract doctrine. MacIntyre insists that the cross must become personal — that each individual must respond to it with faith and repentance. The atonement is not a truth to be acknowledged but a reality to be entered into. At the same time, MacIntyre avoids the trap of subjectivism: the objective work of Christ remains the foundation, and faith is simply the hand that receives it. The sacraments are the tangible, communal context in which this reception occurs.

Chapter Six: The Problem of Life After Death — Part One: The Nature of the Hope

We now enter MacIntyre’s treatment of eschatology. The problem of life after death is closely connected to the problem of evil, for if there is no future vindication, the sufferings of the righteous in this life have no ultimate resolution. MacIntyre begins by examining what Christians mean when they speak of “life after death.”

The author starts with the resurrection of Jesus as the foundation of Christian hope. He writes: “The Christian hope for life after death is not based on philosophical arguments for the immortality of the soul, but on the historical fact of the resurrection of Jesus Christ.” This is a crucial distinction. Greek philosophy often taught that the soul is naturally immortal and survives the death of the body. The New Testament, by contrast, teaches that eternal life is a gift given through Christ, not an inherent property of human nature. Paul states in 1 Corinthians 15 that if Christ is not raised, Christian faith is futile. The resurrection is therefore not an appendix to the gospel but its center.

MacIntyre then clarifies what the resurrection of the body means. The New Testament does not envision a disembodied existence in which souls float in a spiritual realm. Rather, it promises a new creation in which believers receive transformed, glorified bodies. Paul describes this in 1 Corinthians 15:42-44: the body is sown in dishonor and raised in glory; it is sown a natural body and raised a spiritual body. MacIntyre notes that “spiritual” does not mean “non-material” but “animated by the Spirit of God.” The resurrected body will be a physical body, but one no longer subject to decay, suffering, or death.

The author then discusses the intermediate state — what happens between death and the final resurrection. He acknowledges that the New Testament gives relatively little detail about this period. However, passages such as Philippians 1:23, where Paul expresses a desire to “depart and be with Christ,” suggest that believers are consciously in the presence of Christ after death. MacIntyre is careful not to speculate beyond what Scripture reveals, but he affirms that the intermediate state is a state of blessedness and conscious fellowship with Christ, even though the final resurrection has not yet occurred.

Finally, MacIntyre addresses the nature of the final state: the new heavens and new earth described in Revelation 21-22. This is not an escape from the material world but its renewal. The hope is not to leave the earth behind but to see it restored and transformed. The author quotes Revelation 21:1-4, where God dwells with His people and wipes away every tear. Death, mourning, crying, and pain are no more. This is the ultimate resolution of the problem of evil: not that suffering is explained away, but that it is overcome by the presence of God.

This section is foundational because it establishes that Christian hope is concrete and embodied. MacIntyre is pushing against both a purely spiritualized hope that dismisses the body and a purely this-worldly hope that denies any future beyond death. The resurrection of the body and the renewal of creation give Christianity a robust eschatology that can sustain believers through suffering. The problem of evil finds its answer not in theodicy alone but in the promise that God will one day make all things right.

Chapter Six: The Problem of Life After Death — Part Two: The Objections Considered

MacIntyre now turns to the difficulties that the doctrine of life after death raises. He presents these objections fairly before offering the Christian response.

The first objection is philosophical: belief in life after death is wishful thinking. MacIntyre presents the argument of thinkers such as Sigmund Freud and Bertrand Russell, who claimed that the desire for immortality is so strong that it creates belief in it. Human beings cannot bear the thought of annihilation, so they invent a world beyond death to comfort themselves. MacIntyre acknowledges the force of this objection: “There is no doubt that the desire for life after death is powerful and widespread. But the question is whether this desire corresponds to reality or is merely a projection.”

The author responds by distinguishing between the origin of a belief and its truth. Even if the desire for life after death is universal, that does not prove the belief is false. Many true beliefs are accompanied by strong desires. More importantly, the Christian doctrine of life after death is not based on desire but on evidence — specifically, the resurrection of Jesus. If that event happened, then the desire for immortality is not a projection but a God-given longing that points to a real fulfillment.

The second objection is moral: belief in heaven and hell is morally problematic. MacIntyre presents the objection that hell — eternal punishment — is incompatible with the love of God. How can a loving God sentence anyone to eternal suffering? This objection is especially powerful in the modern world, where many find the traditional doctrine of hell repugnant. MacIntyre writes: “The difficulty is not merely intellectual; it is deeply emotional. Many people find it impossible to worship a God who would consign anyone to everlasting torment.”

MacIntyre responds by examining what the New Testament actually teaches about judgment. He notes that Jesus speaks more about hell than anyone else in Scripture, and that His warnings about it are serious. However, the author argues that hell is best understood not as an arbitrary punishment imposed by a vindictive God but as the natural consequence of rejecting God. Heaven is the state of being in communion with God; hell is the state of being separated from God. Those who choose to live apart from God in this life are given what they choose in the next. MacIntyre emphasizes that God respects human freedom, even to the point of allowing people to reject Him eternally.

The third objection is epistemological: we cannot know anything about life after death because it is beyond human experience. MacIntyre presents the claim that all knowledge comes through sense experience; since death is the end of sense experience, no one can report back what lies beyond. The resurrection of Jesus is sometimes dismissed as a legend or a hallucination, not a reliable source of knowledge.

MacIntyre responds by defending the historical reliability of the resurrection accounts. He acknowledges that this is a matter of historical investigation, not philosophical proof. However, he argues that the evidence for the resurrection is strong enough to warrant belief. The empty tomb, the transformation of the disciples, the rapid growth of the early church — these facts require an explanation. The resurrection provides the best explanation. If the resurrection happened, then we have reliable knowledge of life after death, because Jesus has gone before us and returned.

This section is important because it shows that MacIntyre does not ignore the difficulties. He takes the objections seriously and engages with them. His approach is not to dismiss the skeptics but to show that the Christian position can withstand scrutiny. The philosophical, moral, and epistemological objections are real, but they are not decisive. The resurrection grounds the Christian hope in history, not in wishful thinking.

Chapter Six: The Problem of Life After Death — Part Three: The Practical Implications

MacIntyre concludes his treatment of life after death by examining how this belief should shape the Christian life. He is concerned not with speculative questions about the afterlife but with the practical difference that eschatological hope makes.

The author begins by stating that belief in life after death gives meaning to suffering. He writes: “If this life is all there is, then suffering is ultimately meaningless. It is simply a brute fact that must be endured or, if possible, eliminated. But if there is a life to come, then suffering can be understood as part of a larger story.” MacIntyre draws on the New Testament teaching that suffering produces character and hope (Romans 5:3-5). The present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed (Romans 8:18). This does not make suffering easy, but it gives it a context.

Second, belief in life after death provides motivation for moral effort. MacIntyre notes that the New Testament frequently connects the hope of resurrection with ethical exhortation. Paul tells the Corinthians that because they will be raised, they should be steadfast and immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord (1 Corinthians 15:58). The certainty of future judgment is also a moral incentive: we will all appear before the judgment seat of Christ (2 Corinthians 5:10). This is not a crude appeal to reward and punishment but a recognition that what we do in this life has eternal significance.

Third, belief in life after death creates confidence in the face of death. MacIntyre observes that death is the great enemy of human hope. It cuts off all plans, ends all relationships, and seems to render everything futile. But for the Christian, death has been defeated. The author quotes Paul: “O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?” (1 Corinthians 15:55). This confidence is not a denial of grief — the New Testament does not forbid sorrow — but it is a sorrow tempered by hope. Christians grieve, but not as those who have no hope (1 Thessalonians 4:13).

Finally, MacIntyre addresses the danger of an otherworldly Christianity that neglects this world. Some critics argue that belief in heaven makes people indifferent to social justice and material needs. MacIntyre acknowledges that this can happen, but he insists that it is a distortion of Christian teaching. The New Testament repeatedly calls believers to love their neighbors, care for the poor, and work for justice. The hope of a new creation does not devalue this world; it gives the motivation to work for its renewal. The author writes: “The Christian who truly believes in the new heavens and new earth will not despise the present world but will labor to bring it into conformity with God’s will.”

This section matters because it prevents eschatology from becoming a detached speculation. MacIntyre grounds the hope of life after death in the practical realities of Christian discipleship. Suffering, morality, death, and social responsibility are all transformed by the resurrection. The hope is not an escape from the world but a power that enables the believer to live faithfully within it.