Contra Academicos is not one of Augustine's masterpieces and, as such, modern scholarship has largely ignored this text in favour of examining Augustine's more mature works. Scholars do, however, attempt to use it as a way of interpreting Augustine's psychological state of mind at the time of his conversion because this is his first extant text. I argue that this attempt at reading Contra Academicos as autobiography is dangerous because Augustine was deliberately offering a self-representation to a pagan-philosophical audience and, therefore, scholars should not attempt to interpret this dialogue as if it offered neutral insight into Augustine's state of mind around 386. This article will first review the history of the scholarship which has attempted to read Contra Academicos as autobiography to prove that Augustine was only a Neoplatonist at the time of his conversion, or to disprove this theory. In either case, the authors of both positions have relied on Contra Academicos to support their claims. Then, I will make three arguments why reading Contra Academicos as autobiography is dubious. First, I will argue that the literary genre of the dialogue shows that Augustine's intended audience was for pagan-philosophers. Second, I will argue that the dedication of the text shows that Augustine's audience is a pagan-philosophical audience. Augustine's dedicatee plays a larger role in this text than do most dedicatees of texts in late antiquity. Third, I will show that the specific content demonstrates that Augustine's text was focused on a pagan-philosophical audience. Augustine never quotes scripture but goes to great pains to demonstrate his knowledge of Vergil and Cicero.

Although the term cosmos in Romans is largely used in a neutral fashion to refer to humanity, as has been demonstrated by Edward Adams, the cosmos is nevertheless the location of a conflict between God and anti-God powers, most prominently the powers of Sin and Death. This conflict comes into view in Paul's repeated use of the language drawn from the arenas of slavery, statecraft and the military (especially in Romans 5–8). In the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, Sin and Death are themselves defeated (5:12–21; 6:8–11), but they are not yet destroyed. The conflict continues in the present as comes to expression in Romans 8, where Paul claims that the whole of creation (both human and non-human) waits for deliverance. And the conflict continues especially in 8:31–9, with its strong assertions that no power is powerful enough to separate humanity from its rightful Lord, assertions that would be unnecessary apart from the conviction that there are indeed anti-God powers whose goal is to reclaim human lives. Paul's cosmology, then, is less concerned with the order and wonder of the cosmos than with its need of redemption, a redemption begun but not yet complete. Cosmology and soteriology are inextricably connected to one another.

This article considers Thomas B. Dozeman's ecumenically orientated and biblically situated theology of ministry (Holiness and Ministry, 2008) by assessing his utilisation of Rudolf Otto's ‘idea of the holy’. Despite significant promise, basic obstacles to appreciating Dozeman's theology of ministry appear to a Catholic perspective. In order to understand the reason for this tension, Dozeman's methodology is analysed. Because of the particular way in which he incorporates the work of Rudolf Otto on the nature of holiness, Dozeman is unable to present a model of ministry wherein ‘word’ and ‘sacrament’ exist in harmony, or a model of ministry which looks to Jesus Christ for its formal type – two issues which any Christian theology of ministry must find problematic. In general, ecumenical and ministerial theologies are ill served by methodologies which are based in a transcendental anthropology of holy experience.

The purpose of this article is to demonstrate that Calvin's interpretation of biblical passages related to the question of the extent of the atonement differed significantly from the later tradition. This difference in interpretation is explained by the fact that Calvin did not share certain hermeneutical presuppositions which were to become almost universal among theologians of the later Reformed tradition. This article will examine two hermeneutical ‘rules’ which Calvin frequently employed in his interpretation of scripture and will contrast his handling of scripture with the interpretative practices employed by the later Reformed tradition. The first hermeneutical ‘rule’ involves those passages in scripture which state that Christ came to give his life as a ransom for ‘many’, or that he shed his blood for ‘many’. Contrary to the later Reformed interpreters of scripture, Calvin understands these passages to mean that Christ died for all people rather than just some. The second hermeneutical ‘rule’ concerns Calvin's frequent appeal to the fact that the word ‘all’ does not always mean ‘all’ when it is used in scripture. Certain present-day Reformed theologians argue that since Calvin shares this second hermeneutical rule with the later Reformed tradition, then his reading of scripture must not have differed significantly from that of the later tradition. Therefore, Calvin must have held to a limited atonement. However, this article will show that this conclusion only holds true if we read Calvin's own writings by means of this hermeneutic.

Albert Camus (1913–60), novelist, essayist, journalist and member of the French Resistance, reflected in his work the turbulent period through which he lived. His powerful portrayal of a world dominated by violence and suffering resonates with us today. An atheist, Camus had been, as a young man, drawn to the Christian faith: his postgraduate thesis was on the development of early Christianity. The thesis reveals the nature of the attraction which the faith held for Camus, and the unresolved problems which prevented him from embracing it. In maturity, Camus sought rather to convince fellow human beings of the need to work together to reduce suffering, without relying on belief in a transcendent being. He respected Christians, however, and welcomed dialogue with them. This article examines the possible basis for such dialogue revealed by the thesis. It goes on to consider the possibilities opened up by contemporary theology for dialogue between Christians and those unbelievers who share the perspective, the doubts and concerns of Albert Camus.

This article examines claims that Barth teaches the eternal subordination and obedience of the Son to the Father which some mainline theologians think leads Barth into the error of subordinationism. This reading of Barth has had a revival in recent times among socially and theologically conservative evangelicals who have found support in Barth for their thesis that, just as the Son is set under the authority of the Father, so too are women set under the authority of men. In reply I argue that Barth's stress on divine unity and on the full divinity of Christ and his explicit rejection of ‘every form of subordinationism’ makes this thesis untenable. When the evidence for this view is examined none of it proves the point. Rather, it highlights Barth's innovative and mind-expanding understanding of the triune God who is high and humble and of the Son who is forever both Lord and servant at one and the same time. However, this is not to say that Barth's doctrine of the Trinity is not without its problems.

If this very weighty and important book did nothing else than establish the fact for modern systematic theology that the trinitarian theology of the fourth century cannot be understood properly by dividing Eastern from Western theology with the usual statement that the former begins with the three persons and moves towards the divine unity while the latter begins with the divine unity and moves towards the three persons, then something truly significant would have been accomplished (Nicaea, pp. 52, 384). Why? Because then one would not be able to trace a supposed modalist tendency directly from Augustine through much Western theology to contemporary theologians such as Barth in order to argue for a view of God's triunity which actually could undermine the full divinity of each of the persons of the Trinity who in reality exist eternally as three persons, one being. Consider, for instance, the remark made by Ted Peters that ‘There is no inherent reason for assuming that the three persons have to be identical or equal in nature.’ If one studies the development of fourth-century trinitarian theology, I think one would find many reasons to insist that the three persons are in fact equal in nature, among which are that any other assertion would undermine the divinity of the Son, lead to some sort of subordinationism or adoptionism (what Barth called Ebionite christology), and would ultimately strip the Gospel of its saving power.