I think the error is, "He is omnipotent, which means he can do anything, which means there are things to be done, which means that he is obliged to do them." Those last two (bolded) inferences both look to be false, and particularly the last one. — Leontiskos
In what way or sense false? If you're defending Anselm, then defend. If you find error in what I write, then make clear what the error is. Omnipotence
means in this context God's being able to do anything. Surely if there is anything he cannot do, then he is not omnipotent. Surely a perfect God, or at least one "than which &etc, would not have unnecessary or superfluous powers, so omnipotence directly implies something to be omnipotent about - something, a task, that needs doing for something to be perfected. And only God can do it, and thus thereby Himself obliged.
This isn't theology, it is just the meaning of words.
I am able to reproduce here what R.G. Collingwood says about Anselm in his
An Essay on Metaphysics, a short chapter but worth the read.
-----------------------
XVIII
THE PROPOSITION ‘GOD EXISTS’
In the last chapter but one I had occasion to comment on the way in which a ‘logical positivist’, wishing to recommend the doctrine that ‘metaphysical propositions’ not being verifiable by appeal to observed fact are pseudo-propositions and meaningless, quoted as examples propositions about God, such as the proposition ‘God exists’. To him the proposition ‘God exists’ would seem to mean that there is a being more or less like human beings in respect of his mental powers and dispositions, but having the mental powers of a human being greatly, perhaps infinitely, magnified.
In a sense any one is free to mean anything he likes by any words whatever; and if the writer whom I quoted had made it clear that this was only a private meaning of his own, the meaning he personally intends to convey when he says things about God, I should not have interfered. But he professed to be explaining what other people mean when they say the same things; and these other people, from what he says, I suppose to be Christians. In that case the question what the words mean is not one to be capriciously answered. It is a question of fact.
What Christians mean when they say that God exists is a complicated question. It is not to be answered except after a somewhat painstaking study of Christian theological literature. I do not profess to be an expert in theology; but I have a certain acquaintance with various writers who are thought to have been experts in their time; and I have no fear of being contradicted when I say that the meaning I suppose to be attached by this author to the proposition ‘God exists’ is a meaning Christian theologians have never attached to it, and does not even remotely resemble the meaning which with some approach to unanimity they have expounded at considerable length. Having said that, I am obliged to explain what, according to my recollection of their works, that meaning is.
But I shall not try to explain the whole of it. For my present purpose a sample is quite enough. According to these writers (I am speaking of the so-called Patristic literature) the existence of God is a presupposition, and an absolute one, of all the thinking done by Christians; among other kinds of thinking, that belonging to natural science. The connexion between belief in God and the pursuit of natural science happens to be a subject with which they have dealt at some length. I shall confine myself to it.
For the Patristic writers the proposition ‘God exists’ is metaphysical proposition in the sense in which I have defined that phrase. In following them here, I am joining issue with my ‘logical positivist’, who evidently does not think it is anything of the kind. In his opinion it has to do not with the presuppositions of science but with the existence of a quasihuman but superhuman person. And the department of knowledge (or if you like pseudo-knowledge) to which a proposition concerning a matter of that kind would belong is, I suppose, psychical research; or what booksellers, brutally cynical as to whether these things are knowable or not, classify as ‘occult’. There can be no conceivable excuse for classifying it under metaphysics.
If the proposition that God exists is a metaphysical proposition it must be understood as carrying with it the metaphysical rubric; and as so understood what it asserts is that as a matter of historical fact a certain absolute presupposition, to be hereafter defined, is or has been made by natural science (the reader will bear in mind my limitation of the field) at a certain phase of its history. It further implies that owing to the presence of this presupposition that phase in the history of natural science has or had a unique character of its own, serving to the historical student as evidence that the presupposition is or was made. The question therefore arises: What difference does it make to the conduct of research in natural science whether scientists do or do not presuppose the existence of God?
The importance of the metaphysical rubric has been well understood by those responsible for establishing and maintaining the traditions of Christendom. The creeds in which Christians have been taught to confess their faith have never been couched in the formula: ‘God exists and has the following
attributes’; but always in the formula: ‘I believe’ or ‘We believe in God’; and have gone on to say what it is that I, or we, believe about him. A statement as to the beliefs of a certain person or body of persons is an historical statement; and since Christians are aware that in repeating their creeds they are summarizing their theology, one need only accept Aristotle’s identification of theology with metaphysics to conclude that the Christian Church has always taught that metaphysics is an historical science.
I do not say that it has taught all the implications of this principle. For example, it has not consistently taught that there can be no proof of God’s existence. Inconsistency on this point is easy to understand.
The words are ambiguous. That God exists is not a proposition, it is a presupposition. Because it is not a proposition it is neither true nor false. It can be neither proved nor disproved. But a person accustomed to metaphysical thinking, when confronted with the words ‘God exists’, will automatically put in the metaphysical rubric and read ‘we believe (i.e. presuppose in all our thinking) that God exists’. Here is something which is a proposition. It is either true or false. If true, it can be proved: if false, it can be disproved. Unless it is proved it cannot be known at all; for like all absolute presuppositions a man’s belief in God can never be discovered by introspection. If ‘God exists’ means ‘somebody believes that God exists’ (which it must mean if it is a physical proposition) it is capable of proof. The proof must of course be an historical proof, and the evidence on which it is based will be certain ways in which this ‘somebody’ thinks.
A famous example lies ready to hand. If Gaunilo was right when he argued that Anselm’s ‘ontological proof of the existence of God’ proved the existence of God only to a person who already believed it, and if Anselm told the truth when he replied that he did not care, it follows that Anselm’s proof, whatever else may be said either for it or against it, was sound on this point, and that Anselm was personally sound on
it too. For it follows not only that Anselm’s proof assumed the metaphysical rubric but that Anselm personally endorsed the assumption when it was pointed out to him, whether he had meant to make it from the first or no. Whatever may have been in Anselm’s mind when he wrote the Proslogion, his exchange of correspondence with Gaunilo shows beyond a doubt that on reflection he regarded the fool who ‘hath said in his heart, There is no God’ as a fool not because he was blind to the actual existence of un nommé Dieu, but because he did not know that the presupposition ‘God exists’ was a presupposition he himself made.
Anselm’s proof is strongest at the point where it is commonly thought weakest. People who cannot see that metaphysics is an historical science, and therefore habitually dock metaphysical propositions of their rubric, fancying that Anselm’s proof stands or falls by its success as a piece of pseudo-metaphysics, that is, by its success in proving the proposition that God exists, as distinct from the proposition that we believe in God, have allowed themselves to become facetious or indignant over the fact, as they think it, that this argument starts from ‘our idea’ of God and seems to proceed thence to ‘God’s existence’. People who hug this blunder are following Kant, I know. But it is a blunder all the same. When once it is realized that Anselm’s proof is a metaphysical argument, and therefore an historical argument, it can no longer be regarded as a weakness that it should take its stand on historical evidence. What it proves is not that because our idea of God is an idea of id quo maius cogitari nequit therefore God exists, but that because our idea of God is an idea of id quo maius cogitari nequit we stand committed to belief in God’sexistence.
It is because Anselm’s proof so explicitly takes its stand on history that it provides so valuable a test for a metaphysical turn of mind. A man who has a bent for metaphysics can hardly help seeing, even if he does not wholly understand it, that Anselm’s proof is the work of a man who is on the right lines; for a man with a bent for metaphysics does not need to be told that metaphysics is an historical science, and at his first meeting with Anselm’s proof he will realize that it is historical in character. I do not suggest that persons with a bent for metaphysics are the only ones who can do valuable work in metaphysics. Kant is an instance to the contrary.
-----------------------------------------