Divine Gütigkeit, Divine Güte: Kant on an Ancient Query

In his essay on theodicy, Kant explicitly claims that while the disproportion between crime and punishment poses a theodicean challenge concerning God’s justice, the suffering of the righteous is compatible with God’s justice [Gerechtigkeit], goodness [Gütigkeit], and holiness [Heiligkeit]. In light of this, Kant’s reason for addressing the book of Job in this context is puzzling. However, the location of Job’s story in the text reveals that Job’s suffering is rendered relevant only concerning the relation between two of God’s moral attributes: goodness as subordinated to holiness, i.e., God’s benevolence [Güte]. Implications concern the difference between ‘authentic’ and ‘doctrinal’ theodicy.

to the crown of his head). Job's friends, who comfort him in his agony, open a series of theological discussions regarding God's justice in light of what seems to be the suffering of a righteous man.
There are many possible readings of this story; however, it seems that the theological challenge expressed in this story (or allegory, for according to one classic Jewish interpretation, Job never existed; see Babylonian Talmud, Bava Batra, 15a) is agreed upon: a specific tension between God's justice and the factual suffering of the righteous needs to be accounted for (the possible claim that Job was not as righteous as it seems serves, in fact, as a rejoinder to the same tension). No wonder, then, that Job's story has become a paradigmatic source of inspiration concerning the question of theodicy. As I argue, Kant tackles this issue in a unique manner, which the scholarly literature hitherto tends to overlook.
At first, it seems that the principle which guides Kant's reading of the Bible 1 is simple and rooted in his critical philosophy 2 : Kant's conception of morality should provide the criterion by which the Bible is interpreted. Thus, when Kant raises the question of 'whether morality must be interpreted according to the Bible or vice versa' (RGV,110), 3 his answer seems unequivocal: it is the Bible that should be interpreted according to morality. 4 Kant, however, adds that reading the Bible in light of morality should be carried out 'as far as it is possible' (RGV,110); by this later remark, Kant demonstrates awareness that the content of historical positive 5 religions, which always contain the 'consciousness of [their] contingency' (RGV,115), cannot be fully reduced to morality (Palmquist 1992;Hare 1996;Byrne 2007;Palmquist 2000).
So any problematic passage (problematic, that is, in that it seems to 'contradict practical reason'; ST, 38) ought to be interpreted in a moral fashion. And since the criterion for interpretation is determined by morality, Kant does not pretend to deliver an accurate historical interpretation of the Bible, which tries to correspond to the conjectural intention of the author(s). One, therefore, does not have to be a scripture scholar (RGV,112) 6 in order to suggest an accurate moral interpretation of problematic passages in the Bible. Given that the criterion for moral interpretation is logically independent of the findings of scripture scholars, an anachronistic reading of the Bible is not problematic in this respect. In fact, Kant's position here justifies more than mere anachronism, since he also states that scripture scholarship must be 'subordinated' 1 I will use the following abbreviations: RGV, AA VI = Die Religion innerhalb der Grenzen der bloßen Vernunft; KpV, AA V = Kritik der praktischen Vernunft; KU, AA V = Kritik der Urteilskraft; MS, AA VI = Metaphysik der Sitten; KrV B = Kritik der reinen Vernunft; GMS, AA IV = Grundlegung zur Metaphysik der Sitten; MpVT, A VIII = Über das Mißlingen aller philosophischen Versuche in der Theodicee; ST, AA VII = Der Streit der Fakultäten 2 For Kant's pre-critical conception of theodicy, see Huxford (2020), 1-33 3 This echoes Kant's formulation in the first Critique, according to which he suggests 'moral theology' and not 'theological morality' (KrV B: 660) 4 See also, e.g., in ST, 41: "reason is the highest interpreter of things related to religion [Religionssachen]' 5 Kant explicitly uses the term 'positive' in this context (e.g. RGV, 157). However, Kant's intention is not only descriptive but also normative; every 'positive religion' (or 'historical belief') ought to be judged according to its relation to what he terms 'religion of reason [Vernunftreligion]' (RGV,110) or 'religious belief' (ST,42). Put differently, 'positive religions' ought to serve as a 'vehicle' [Leitmittel] (RGV,115) to 'religion of reason' 6 Scriptural scholarship (which takes up the theoretical standpoint, as a search for knowledge about the meaning of a text) is the appropriate focus when theologians working in a university interpret the Bible, whereas pastors (or even theologians) who are interpreting the scriptures in a church ought to adopt the practical standpoint by focusing on a moral interpretation (RGV,112) to moral interpretation. Given that it is defined by morality, scripture scholarship-in the context of positive religions which aim to gain a practical influence-is not a science per se, seeking to expand knowledge for the sake of knowledge; rather, it ought to, by means of scholarship, find ways to strengthen and reinforce the a priori moral point of view.
However, there is a subtle difference between simply interpreting a problematic passage from a moral point of view and interpreting it from a Kantian moral point of view. Problematic passages in the Hebrew Bible, for instance, can be given moral interpretations which are based simply on common moral intuitions that we all seem to share. When reading, for example, about Abraham being commanded by God to 'slaughter his own son like a sheep' (RGV, 187), one does not have to be familiar with Kant's second Critique in order to see that this story poses a moral problem. 7 But Kant's way of performing a moral interpretation of it is immersed in irreducible considerations specific to his unique moral theory. For according to Kant, Abraham's alleged sin in this case had more to do with Abraham's conscience than with Abraham's morality per se; so one needs to be familiar with Kant's specific theory of conscience and its relation to his moral theory as a whole 8 in order to properly grasp Kant's intention in this regard.
I believe that many attempts to understand Kant's interpretation of Job's story have been misguided for similar reasons: The prevalent tendency is to generalize Kant's position in order to fit it into some approximated general moral intuition instead of specifically locating it where it belongs-in its irreducible systematic context. As I argue, this results in oversimplifying the genuine depth of Kant's position. My aim in this article is to reconstruct Kant's position in a more appropriate manner.
I will proceed as follows: in the 'Job: A Kantian Context' section, I will present an overview of some typical interpretations of Kant's reading of Job and will explain in detail in precisely which respect they are fundamentally misguided. In the 'Divorcing Job's Case from the Realm of Divine Justice' section, I will explain why Kant divorces the problem of the proportion between virtue and reward (Job's case) from the realm of divine justice; this will illuminate why Kant rejects the seemingly intuitive reading of Job's story. I will then devote 'The Relation Between Ethicotheology and Physicotheology' section to an analysis of Kant's second definition of theodicy in light of his discussion of the relation between physicotheology and ethicotheology, which directly concerns his elaboration on the relation between two of God's attributes (holiness and goodness). This will provide the immediate background necessary for understanding Kant's unique interpretation of Job's story, for it bears direct relevance to the difference between 'doctrinal' and 'authentic' (Job's case) attitudes. Finally in the 'Two Moral Interpretations of Nature and Kant's Job' section, I will focus on Kant's reading of the book of Job in light of all of the above considerations.

Job: A Kantian Context
Kant's interpretation of the book of Job appears mainly in his short essay concerning theodicy. This seems appropriate; given that the book of Job describes the suffering of a righteous man, doubts regarding God's justice are brought to the fore: can such a world, where the righteous suffer and the evil prosper, accord with God's alleged justice? Most scholars would agree therefore that for Kant the suffering of the righteous is a theodicean issue, threatening mainly God's justice. In this spirit, Elisabeth C. Galbraith holds that in MpVT Kant suggests, as part of his discussion on the question of theodicy, an 'account of the innocent and morally righteous sufferer' (Galbraith 2006, 179). Susan Meld Shell remarks similarly that theodicy according to Kant deals with 'the (perceived) fact that the good are often miserable while the wicked flourish' (Shell 2011, 25). Johannes Brachtendorf writes that according to Kant the arguments against God's justice pertain to 'the disproportion between crime and punishment, that is [or; bzw.], to the disproportion between virtue and reward' (Brachtendorf 2002, 66). And Georg Cavallar thinks, as well, that according to Kant, Job's suffering seems to threaten 'God's justice [Gerechtigkeit]' (Cavallar 1993, 92).
To understand why such interpretations are misguided (i.e., the claim that the suffering of the righteous threatens divine justice) or too general and abstract (and thus detached from the unique systematic manner in which Kant brings this problematic to the fore), it is important to pay special attention to the fact that Kant divides God's moral attributes in the theodicean context into the following categories: (1) 'holiness' [Heiligkeit], i.e., God as lawgiver and creator of the world (MpVT, 257); in light of this, the presence of moral evil [Böse] in the world, which Kant designates as the moral counterpurposive (MpVT, 256), deserves an explanation. (2) 'Goodness' [Gütigkeit], i.e., God as a ruler (or preserver) of the world; in light of this, the countless ills [Übel] and 'pains of rational beings in the world' (MpVT, 257), which Kant designates as the physically counterpurposive, calls for a clarification. Notice that Kant does not refer to the pain of righteous agents, but rather to the pain of rational beings in general (when Kant discusses three theodicean arguments concerning God's goodness in MpVT, 259-260, he does not treat the suffering of the righteous as a distinct problem). Put differently, the physically counterpurposive (pain) is not considered by Kant as a divine punishment for moral evil, but as a distinct problem of its own; what seems not to accord with divine goodness is the very fact that human beings as such-i.e., independently of their moral character-are subjected to pains. (3) 'Justice,' i.e., God as a judge, in this regard, Kant mentions only the disproportion between crimes and punishment and not the disproportion between virtue and happiness (reward) as a theodicean challenge; thus, when discussing three theodicean complaints concerning God's justice (MpVT,(260)(261)(262), only the disproportion between crime and punishment is at stake. As Kant says (MpVT, 257Fn): the lament over the lack of justice […] is directed not at the well-being which does not befall the good, but at the ill which does not befall the evil (although, if the first is added to the second, then the contrast makes the offence all the greater).
Where does Job's case, i.e., the suffering of the righteous, belong in Kant's theodicean scheme? Clearly it has nothing to do with God's holiness (Job was by no means an evil agent according to Kant). And, as I mentioned above, God's goodness is connected to the physically counterpurposive (pains) of rational beings in general, and not specifically to the suffering of the righteous as a (moral) punishment. But we now see that it does not concern God's justice either. Kant does not deny that we might feel unease in light of the suffering of the righteous as well; but this, as such, does not change the fact that Kant ignores the disproportion between virtue and happiness when discussing three theodicean complaints concerning God's justice.
To see this in some detail, when specifically addressing arguments concerning God's justice, Kant says right at the outset that the most troubling problem concerning the relation between divinity as such and the 'course of world events [Lauf der Weltbegebenheiten]' (MpVT, 260Fn) pertains to divine justice. In this regard, he mentions, again, only the disproportion between evil and punishment (and not that between virtue and reward). And in light of this problem, Kant discusses three possible arguments against God's justice.
In the first argument, (i) the problem is clearly defined at the outset (MpVT, 261): the vicious, i.e., the immoral are not punished (so the disproportion between virtue and reward is not even mentioned). The possibility that the theodicist raises is that maybe the evil agent is being punished after all, through his conscience. However, this is not convincing according to Kant, for here the virtuous agent only sees the evil agent in light of his own (moral) character. In the second argument, (ii) Kant repeats the problem, focusing-in accordance with his explicit statement-only on the disproportion between evil and punishment: 'There is no just relation between guilt and punishment in this world' (MpVT, 261). However, within this argument, Kant mentions the disproportion between virtue and reward. Does this mean that Kant contradicts his own definition? Not at all, for Kant mentions the disproportion between virtue and reward only as a possible account on the part of the theodicist to explain the disproportion between evil and punishment. Thus, the theodicist only uses the first disproportion (between virtue and reward) in order to justify the relevant disproportion between evil and punishment. The argument is that it might be the case that there is no proportion between evil and punishment in this world for the sake of virtue, that is, in order for good agents to actively struggle with vileness (MpVT, 261). So the whole point is, again, to account for the disproportion between evil and punishment by seeing it as something that might serve virtue. Finally, in the third argument, (iii) Kant speaks on the disharmonic relation between the moral value of 'human beings' (MpVT,262) in general and their fate in this world. This, as well, does not mean that Kant contradicts himself, i.e., that the disproportion between virtue and reward is now rendered all of a sudden-despite Kant's explicit declaration-an issue which contradicts God's justice. The challenge remains as Kant defines it with regard to divine justice: only the disproportion between evil and punishment is relevant. And in order to solve this disproportion, the theodicist only claims: in the afterlife, there will be a general harmony (between virtue and reward as well as between evil and punishment), in which 'each will receive the remuneration he deserves' (MpVT,262). The fact that this general harmony also includes the disproportion between virtue and reward does render it the problem at stake; the crucial point is that this awaited 'different order of things' (MpVT,262) in the afterlife also settles the disproportion between evil and punishment, i.e., it resolves the component which seems to contradict God's justice.
In MpVT, Kant discusses three possible theodicean arguments regarding each of the abovementioned attributes, 9 which together 'constitute the moral concept of God' (MpVT,257); the problem of the suffering of the righteous (Job's case) appears in none of them, not even in relation to divine 'justice' (where we would expect to find it). In other words, Kant's addressing of Job's story in his theodicean essay is not as intuitive as it seems; if Kant had a theodicean interest in Job's story, it cannot be rooted in Job's agonies as simply contradicting one of God's three moral attributes.
So how are we to systematically locate Job's case in this context? Kant tackles Job's story only at the end of his essay, but he gives us a hint at the beginning of it. Right after mentioning that 'the lament over the lack of justice […] is directed not at the wellbeing which does not befall the good, but at the ill which does not befall the evil', he adds the following lines (MpVT, 257Fn): For in a divine government even the best agent cannot ground his wish to welfare [Wohlergehen] on divine justice, but on divine benevolence [Güte].
Job's suffering has, thus, something to do with God's benevolence, i.e., with God's Güte (see also RGV, 141); this is not to be confused with God's goodness, to wit, with God's Gütigkeit, and Kant is very consistent in his use of these two concepts. God's benevolence is not a divine attribute per se, for, as we have seen, Kant explicitly lists only three moral divine attributes (holiness, justice, and goodness). So what is 'benevolence' in this regard, and how is the suffering of the righteous (Job's case) related to it?
We still cannot tell. In order to elicit Kant's precise intent here, one must carefully follow Kant's order of discussion. As we have seen, despite our expectations, Kant does not address the issue of Job when discussing God's justice, goodness, or holiness. Rather, Kant approaches Job's case only afterwards, when discussing the relation between two of these divine attributes: goodness and holiness (in Kant's terminology, it is the relation between 'physicotheology'-God's artistic wisdom, and 'ethicotheology'-God's moral wisdom; MpVT, 263-264). Only in light of this problematic-i.e., that of the relation between two of God's moral attributes, or, to be more precise, the problem of divine goodness as subordinated to divine holiness-does Kant offer a second definition of theodicy, which is directly related to this issue: 'all theodicy should truly be an interpretation of nature insofar as God announces His will through it' (MpVT,264). Only in light of the relation between two of God's moral attributes (this is precisely the meaning of what Kant terms God's benevolence) does Kant put forward the difference between 'authentic' and 'doctrinal' theodicies, and here is where Job's case becomes systematically relevant, inasmuch as Job can be said to 'express allegorically' (MpVT,264) 10 what an 'authentic' position in the realm of theodicy is. Without carefully exploring this order in which Kant presents background, the fine shades between the 'authentic' and the 'doctrinal' theodicies are likely to be overlooked (see, e.g., Gressis 2018, 63;Schulte 1991, 392).

Divorcing Job's Case from the Realm of Divine Justice
As I mentioned, Kant explicitly rejects the ostensibly intuitive understanding of Job's story, according to which the suffering of the righteous is a theological scandal pertaining to God's justice. The present section is dedicated to deciphering the grounds of this exclusion.
So why does the suffering of the righteous not constitute a theological scandal concerning God's justice? The obvious rejoinder to this question seems to be found in declarations such as the following: 'the moral value of an action is independent of the outcome resulting from it' (GMS, 401). If some representation of an awaited reward determines the deed, this deed is in essence not purely moral (the connection between virtue and happiness is not analytical; see KpV, 111-113). Thus, Job's suffering cannot serve as a possible reason for complaint against God, for, if Job were to raise such a complaint, it would actually prove that his incentive was not pure and thus that he was not a righteous man.
However, it seems that Kant does not hold that morality ought to be devoid of any representation of a moral end whatsoever. Take, for instance, this citation (KpV, 114; see also MS, 385): If […] the highest good is impossible according to practical rules, then the moral law which commands us to further this good must also be fantastic and aimed at empty imaginary purposes, and hence in itself false.
'The highest good' represents a possible moral world, an end which the moral agent ought to try to achieve; in such a world, one might think, a righteous man like Job ought to be happy (or, at the very least, should not suffer as terribly as he did). For the sake of morality, such a perfect world should be thought of as possible, as the citation above shows. There is a sense, then, that the representation of a moral end is nevertheless important for the moral agent.
To understand this better, recall that, from a formal point of view, a finite will has two kinds of incentives: 'respect for the moral law' and 'self-love.' A moral agent subordinates 'self-love' to 'respect for the moral law,' whereas an evil agent does the opposite. And, as Kant repeatedly says, no finite free agent can 'exterminate [vertilgen]' (RGV, 28), that is, cannot cast out either of the two (this is precisely the reason why a free act is per definition a matter of 'subordination [Unterordnung]'; RGV, 36). However, this formal perspective ought not to blur the fact that in one important respect these incentives do not obtain equal status; the second has, in a sense, priority over the first, for 'self-love' already affects (but does not wholly determine) the finite will, whereas 'respect for the moral law' only should determine it (Kant explicitly says that self-love is active in us even prior to the moral law; see, e.g., KpV, 73). This is why, when discussing the possibility to apply morality, Kant first searches for a different non-material end, without which the translocation of a will which is already immersed in material ends cannot take place (MS, 380-381): Given that the sensible inclinations mislead and attempt for ends […] that can be contrary to duty, lawgiving reason cannot resist and refuse their influence without giving a moral end which stands against them, i.e. without suggesting an a-priori end, which is independent of inclinations. So Kant's morality requires more than merely the claim that it is possible that 'respect for the moral law' will determine the will. This claim is not wrong in itself, but it ignores the fact that Kant's notion of 'possibility' here is much richer than the mere lack of contradiction and is actually carried out in light of Kant's definition of a finite will, which is already 'sunk' in non-moral ends. Thus, a concept of an a priori end, which does not precede the will, must be given for the sake of the real possibility of morality.
But should not the agent's own happiness be included in the representation of such an a priori end? If so, then the agent's own happiness determines her will in the moral case, and a moral action would be rendered impossible. This is why Kant writes the following (KpV, 129-130): Although the concept of the highest good […] includes also my own happiness, yet the determining basis of the will that is instructed to further the highest good is not this happiness but the moral law.
Kant thinks (and we will take this problematic statement for granted) that despite the fact that the representation of the highest good includes the representation of the agent's own happiness, this happiness does not serve as the determining ground of her will. Thus, an agent like Job cannot complain that happiness was not given to him as a reward for his moral deeds even if the representation of the highest good (a world in which there is a proportion between virtue and reward) were to serve as the determining ground of his will. So the thesis still remains that acting morally according to Kant must stay independent of the agent's expectation to be rewarded, and a complaint against God-in a theodicean context-that acting morally did not bring happiness shows that the agent in fact did not act morally.
There is, however, another kind of disproportion which does seem to constitute grounds for a complaint against divine justice, as we have seen: the disproportion between crime and punishment. For even if a (divine) judge cannot be the object of an accusation regarding the disproportion between virtue and reward, as we have seen, the disproportion between evil and punishment does justify such a complaint according to Kant. A full account of this issue lies beyond the scope of this article and is not straightforwardly relevant for the present discussion (since Job was not an evil agent according to Kant). Let me just say: Kant holds that there is something 'in the idea of our practical reason' (KpV, 37) which accompanies the violation of the moral law, i.e., the worthiness of being punished. 11 Punishment, thus, as rooted in the very idea of practical reason, cannot be grounded in our empirical dissatisfaction with violations of the law. This is why Kant stresses in MpVT that the theological scandal is not that the evil prosper (that would be more than what is necessary to arouse our moral discontent) but rather that the evil is not punished. And this is the reason that, given that the background is the very idea of our practical reason, the essence of punishment at stake is not 'pragmatic' (i.e., to reform the evil or to deter others from inflicting evil) but 'moral' (even if 'moral' punishment might have, of course, 'pragmatic' implications; see Enderlein 1985, 305f).
Thus far we have seen why the fact that Job (a paradigmatic example of a righteous agent) was not rewarded is not sufficient to ground a complaint against God's justice; practical reason demands that evil agents would be punished and not that virtuous agents would be rewarded. In addition, it goes without saying that Job's case does not contradict God's holiness as well, for only the presence of moral evil-surely not Job's case-grounds a complaint in this regard. However, what about God's third attributegoodness, which is accountable for the pains of rational beings in the world, that is, what about the 'physically counterpurposive'? Recall that Job's bone and flesh were stricken; so why does divine goodness not prevent the righteous from suffering? You might think that if one of God's moral attributes is responsible for physical suffering, God would at least see to it that people like Job would not be afflicted with painful sores from the soles of their feet to the crown of their heads.
To better grasp this point, one must take into account that, on principal grounds, Kant does not discuss divine goodness separately from the question regarding its relation to divine holiness. Kant specifically addresses this issue in MpVT, 257Fn: These three attributes [of God], none of which in any way can be reduced to the others (as, for instance, justice to goodness, and so the whole to a smaller number) together constitute the moral concept of God. Their order cannot be altered (as by making God's goodness to be the supreme condition of creation, to which God's holiness is subordinated), without breaking-off religion, which has this very concept as its foundation. Our own pure (practical) reason determines this order, for if legislation [God's holiness] accommodates itself to [God's] goodness, its dignity would no longer be and there would be no firm concept of duties. Indeed the human being wishes to be happy first; but then he sees, and (though reluctantly) accepts, that the worthiness to be happy, i.e. the conformity of the employment of his freedom with the holy law, must in God's decision be the condition of his goodness, and must, therefore, necessarily precede it. For the wish that has the subjective end (self-love) for a foundation cannot determine the objective end (of wisdom) prescribed by the law that unconditionally gives the will its rule.
The most important claims in this paragraph seem to be (a) the three moral attributes of God cannot be reduced to one another; (b) at the same time, they are subordinated to a specific order (e.g., 'divine goodness' cannot subordinate 'divine holiness' and be the supreme condition of creation); and (c) our own practical reason determines this order. The best way to understand these claims is to start from the last one.
So what does it mean that our practical reason determines the order of God's moral attributes, for instance, that our virtue precedes (in the sense of conditions) God's goodness? It may sound strange that God is, in a way, dependent on human action (on human choice). Why cannot God assist those who are not worth assisting? (Consider one possible meaning of 'grace,' for instance.) Cannot God arbitrarily redeem whomever God wants?
Theologians and philosophers conceptualize God under metaphysical and not merely logical constraints. Many think, for instance, that God does not possess the capacity to do evil (say, to lie), or, alternatively, that even if doing evil can be considered within God's 'possibility,' God actually would never choose it. Such philosophers do not argue that lying, for instance, is logically impossible ('I've actually seen […] [it] done', as Peter van Inwagen remarks in a similar context; van Inwagen 2006, 23); rather, they simply stress that God's perfection in the moral realm means that God, unlike us, does not possess this capacity. Now Kant suggests a new conception of the systematic 'moment' in which the concept of God is brought to the fore in the moral context. According to him, the concept of God has nothing to do with grounding morality, for (i) the validity of the moral law is related to the concept of contradiction (see, e.g., GMS, 424) and (ii) the source of legislation of the moral law is self-determination (see, e.g., KpV, 33) of reason (or else the act cannot be considered autonomous). As we have seen, the concept of God is put forward in the moral context only with reference to our prior, independent free decision to achieve a moral a priori end ('the highest good'). So the concept of God as a moral being is dependent, in this sense, on human action (choice), for the worthiness of being redeemed 12 is determined only by the free agent herself. Thus, even if God can (referring to a 'logical' rather than 'moral' possibility) arbitrarily redeem those who are not worth redeeming, such an action would not be in line with a consistent conception of a moral God. This is why Kant says that God's goodness is subordinated to God's holiness; given that, for a moral God, morality should be thought of as the 'supreme condition' of creation, God's 'primary will' cannot be directed only by God's wish to prevent pain.
But even if we accept that God's will should not be primarily guided by God's goodness but, rather, by God's goodness as subordinated to God's holiness, Job's case continues to trouble us. For Job fulfilled his part of the deal; he was virtuous. So what would prevent God from showing goodness to Job and preventing his pain, i.e., to be benevolent? Notice that this is not a question about God's goodness [Gütigkeit] as such, for this attribute, as we have seen, is responsible for pains of rational agents in general, independently of their particular moral character. Rather, it is an issue which concerns God's benevolence [Güte], for only in this respect can the virtuous agent ground her wish to welfare: not in relation to 'divine justice, but […] divine benevolence [Güte]' (MpVT, 257Fn). Thus, the righteous agents might raise questions not concerning divine justice, and not regarding divine holiness or goodness, but only questions related to divine goodness as subordinated to divine holiness. It is not surprising, then, that after discussing every divine attribute separately-a context to which the disproportion between virtue and reward (Job's case) does not belong-Kant then suggests a discussion which tackles the relation between divine goodness and holiness. This discussion serves as a preparation for the introduction of the difference between 'authentic' and 'doctrinal' theodicies, in which Job's story is systematically discussed.

The Relation Between Ethicotheology and Physicotheology
At this point Kant suggests a second definition of theodicy: 'All theodicy should truly be an interpretation of nature insofar as God announces His will through it' (MpVT,264). The second definition reveals how, according to Kant, we should think about the connection between God's holiness and goodness (i.e., about divine Güte). We already know that God's will is primarily guided by God's holiness (and not by God's goodness); thus a moral God simply cannot create a world in which preventing individuals' having pain-God's goodness-is the primary object of the divine will. But can we know more about the relation between God's holiness and goodness, i.e., between 'morality' and 'nature,' besides their order of subordination?
According to Kant, 'we have some concept of a divine 'artistic wisdom' of the arrangement of this world […], a concept which does not lack objective reality, which helps us to attain a physicotheology' (MpVT,263). To follow Kant's line of argument, we should recall that in KU, Kant defines 'physicotheology' as the 'attempts of reason to infer from the ends of nature (which can be known only empirically) to the supreme cause of nature and its attributes' (KU,436). Occasionally, as a mere contingent fact of our experience, we 'bump into' what Kant terms 'ends of nature', i.e., organisms. According to Kant, for some reason (call it 'finitude,' since for divine reason the difference between 'teleology' and 'mechanism' might not exist; see KU, 401-404), we cannot think about the possibility of these 'ends of nature' without the concept of 'intention' (KU, 398) 13 as their ground.
The point of departure of physicotheology is the empirical 'bumping-into' ends of nature; thus, physicotheology cannot ground a genuine theology according to Kant. For we cannot infer from what we empirically bump into in nature the character of nature as a whole, let alone nature's supreme cause and its attributes (for nature contains counterpurposive phenomena as well, the 'physically counterpurposive,' see, e.g., in KU, 439; thus, if the point of departure is experience, we might just as easily land not in a moral concept of God, but in 'demonology'; see KU, 444). So we have contingent indications in nature of God's 'artistic wisdom'; however, we cannot infer from them nature's genuine character or God's moral attributes.
Besides obtaining a concept of God's 'artistic wisdom,' to which we empirically occasionally get a glimpse, we can also get an a priori glimpse of God's 'moral wisdom' (MpVT,263). By 'moral wisdom,' Kant refers to the conclusion of the 'ethicotheological argument,' which he defines in KU as 'the attempt to infer from the moral ends of rational beings in nature (which can be known a priori) the supreme cause of nature and its attributes' (KU,436). The aim of physicotheology and ethicotheology is thus identical; however, their point of departure is different, for ethicotheology starts not with 'ends of nature' known by us empirically, but rather with 'moral ends' known by us a priori. Ethicotheology is the only way to secure God's moral character according to Kant, for nothing that occurs in nature (say, pains, or generally 'bumping into the counterpurposive') can undermine an argument which is grounded in pure morality.
But ethicotheology still doesn't tell us how God's moral wisdom is in line with nature (God's artistic wisdom); it only assures us that we should (practically) believe that there is such a correspondence. We have, then, two good reasons to believe that there is such a correspondence between nature and morality: (i) our morality leads to this conclusion a priori (as a practical demand); (ii) experiences in nature itself 'hint' (KU,390) to us occasionally that it might be the case, since now and again we bump into phenomena in nature which, as far as we can judge, are the outcomes of an intention. However, given that the counterpurposive also constitutes our experience of nature, we cannot claim to have knowledge of this correspondence. In Kant's words in MpVT, 263: 'But of the unity in agreement between this artistic and the moral wisdom [of God] in the world of experience we have no concept'. In the language of God's attributes, we ought not to exclude the possibility that God's holiness and God's goodness are compatible; but, as finite beings, we cannot fully conceive how, given the physically counterpurposive, God's goodness and holiness are aligned.
Before turning to Kant's interpretation of Job's story, which appears-and not by accident-after he tackles the issue of the relation between God's holiness and goodness and after mentioning, in light of this difference, the difference between the 'authentic' and the 'doctrinal,' it is important to point out that it would be misleading to understand Kant's abovementioned insight as pure epistemic humility. We are not completely ignorant regarding nature's relation to morality; if this were so, then even the mere suggestion of a moral interpretation of nature, regardless of which kind, would be problematic. Rather, Kant's position concerns the right interpretation of nature in light of all that Kant has said thus far. Now we can better understand why Kant turns in his next step to the question concerning the interpretation of nature. In Kant's words, 'every interpretation of the declared will of the legislator [as it appears in "nature"] is either doctrinal or authentic' (MpVT, 264). The relevance of Job's story to the question of theodicy, thus, involves precisely this issue of the right interpretation of nature: Job's sufferings seem to contradict the relation between God's holiness (morality) and God's goodness (artistic wisdom).

Two Moral Interpretations of Nature and Kant's Job
The distinction suggested by Kant between a 'doctrinal' interpretation of nature, which Kant ascribes to Job's friends, and an 'authentic' interpretation of nature, which Kant identifies with Job-both of which pertain to the interpretation of God's goodness in its relation to God's morality-is difficult to grasp. Kant writes (MpVT, 264): The first is a quibbling 14 inference about the divine will from its utterances […] and its connection to its otherwise recognized intentions; the second is made by the law-giver Himself.
In the doctrinal interpretation of nature, not God's will as such but also the 'utterances' of God's will in nature play an important role. In the authentic interpretation, only God's will is at stake: 'God becomes, through our [practical] reason, the interpreter of His will as announced through creation' (MpVT, 264).
But why cannot God's voice be heard through its expressions in nature as well? After all, (i) both parties see God as a moral being (the doctrinal interpretation never doubts it, according to Kant; Job's friends never thought that Job's suffering proves God to be an evil being); (ii) both parties agree that 'the world, as a work of God, can be seen by us ["doctrinal" and "authentic" interpreters alike!] as the divine revelation of the intentions of God's will' (MpVT, 264); and finally (iii), the authentic party offers an interpretation of nature as well; Kant explicitly refers also to the authentic position as an attempt to give sense to the 'letters' (MpVT, 264) of God's creation.
The first step to decipher Kant's intention is to notice that for both parties the world ('nature'), as the place in which God's will is revealed, is 'often a sealed book' (MpVT, 264) (the doctrinal party suggests interpretation of nature precisely because it is confronted with troubling, baffling cases like Job's). However, it is always a sealed book if one tries to extract from it God's final end, for a final end cannot be elicited from nature by definition (physicotheology is not valid), but only in an a priori maneuver (ethicotheology). The doctrinal interpretation of God's will, thus, is not problematic as an interpretation of God's announced intention in nature (the authentic party does the same), but rather because it tries to elicit this ultimate divine intention ('final end') from all its utterances in nature, including the physically counterpurposive (like Job's case). Such a position, contrary to simply giving general moral 'sense' to God's letters in creation, tries to show how the physically counterpurposive in nature is in line with God's moral will. This, however, is one step too far according to Kant.
Notice that this does not mean that Job's friends infer God's attributes themselves from experience; they do not. After all (MpVT, 265), 'they believe they could judge apriori that Job must have something weighing upon him, for his misfortune would be otherwise impossible according to divine justice' (it is important to see that Kant brings up God's justice here merely to account for the fundamental mistake of Job's friends). The difference lies elsewhere: Job's friends fail to see (MpVT, 266) that God's ways are hidden 'already in the physical order of things and much more in the connection of the latter with the moral order (which is all the more impenetrable to our reason)'. Notice that God's will is much more hidden regarding the relation between nature and morality (i.e., between God's goodness and holiness); for, as to the 'physical order,' we do occasionally experience appearances in nature as purposive as well, as we have seen above (this is why God shows Job also the beautiful side of creation, where ends seem to be comprehensible to human beings; MpVT, 266) and not only as horrible, which appears, with respect to human beings, as destructive, counterpurposive, and incompatible with a universal plan established with goodness and wisdom (MpVT,266).
Both parties, then, grant that nature and morality-God's goodness and holinessought to correspond, and both parties do not infer God's morality from experience as such. Finally, both parties interpret some appearances in nature as purposive, i.e., as possibly related to divine (holy) intention. But the doctrinal party fails when it comes to suggesting a moral explanation to 'utterances' of the counterpurposive in nature (Job's flesh and bones are in a terrible state of suffering). This party purports not only to believe that there is a moral explanation to the counterpurposive, but to know it, i.e., to know how it is related to divine holiness. 15 Put differently, the doctrinal party thinks that it can always explain divine goodness as subordinated to divine holiness, even in cases-Job's case is a predominant example of it-in which such an explanation is not accessible to finite cognition (only in this respect can the doctrinal party be described in terms of 'malice'; MpVT, 265). The doctrinal party is right in assuming that such an explanation must exist (Job thinks the same), but it is wrong when trying to apply it to cases of the suffering of righteous rational beings. This is why Job's friends might seem to be characterized by pious humility (MpVT, 266)-they are not driven by an evil motive, but maybe they are over motivated-whereas Job, as Kant sarcastically remarks, would probably suffer 'a sad fate' (MpVT, 266) standing before an inquisition. 16 But by showing his sincerity concerning our inability to apply divine goodness as subordinated to divine holiness to instances of physically counterpurposive experiences which befall good agents like himself, Job has proven himself to be an authentic believer, not a 'religious flatterer' (MpVT,267).
To conclude, Kant's theodicean interest in Job's suffering is deeply rooted in fundamental unique considerations of his practical philosophy. This is why he holds that Job's sufferings do not contradict any of God's divine attributes considered separately, God's justice included. Rather, Kant thinks that these sufferings concern the relation of two moral divine attributes: goodness as subordinated to holiness. The suffering of Job is only relevant with regard to a specific application of God's goodness to cases of virtue (this is the deep sense of 'benevolence,' which is, as such, not a divine attribute per se), for in such cases, in which morality is not violated, we do not understand what prevents God from being benevolent. This is the terrible gap which Job had to face: to admit that a finite agent like himself would never know why a moral God would avoid activating divine goodness in cases where morality itself seems to demand it, or, in a different formulation, to concede that God permits cases, which morally require divine benevolence, to exist without this benevolence and to still hold to the belief that this permission does not render God immoral.