The purpose of this essay is to broaden the way in which the exegetical necessity of trinitarian theology has frequently been understood in the post-Enlightenment period by offering an exegetical-theological interpretation of the birth–infancy narrative in the Gospel of Luke and exploring the implications for exegesis in the opening scene in the body of the gospel. The question of the identify of God is pursued by paying close attention to the movement of the Lukan narrative itself and the influence and presence of the OT within the narrative. The essay, as a form of ecclesial biblical theology, attempts to take seriously the dogmatic tradition of the church primarily from the side of exegesis and, hence, focuses on one aspect of continuity between the bible and the later formulations as generated by the dynamics of a particular biblical text.

We are accustomed to think of the natural law as being more or less equivalent to a universal morality, whether this is seen as grounded in nature in some general sense, or more specifically in the deliverances of practical reason. There is another way of approaching the natural law, however, according to which it is identified with a specific moral tradition which cannot be adequately understood apart from some account of its historical development and social location. This paper defends the latter approach. It proceeds by way of an examination of one phase in the development of the natural law tradition, namely, its formulation as a systematic moral theology in the early scholastic period. Scholastic reflection on the natural law follows the pattern of a tradition-based form of moral reasoning, and even though the scholastics did not understand their moral reflections specifically in those terms, their concept of the natural law is congruent with a modern understanding of it as a tradition of inquiry.

Retrieving Karl Barth's theological exegesis of 1 Corinthians is essential both for historical reasons (it sheds important light on the crucial period between the Römerbrief and the early Göttingen lectures on dogmatics) and for theological reasons: the bodily resurrection of Jesus Christ was the starting point of Barth's theology. This paper addresses historical concerns about the development of Barth's thought by locating his work on 1 Corinthians in recent discussions by David Ford and Bruce McCormack. As to theological issues, it defends Barth's exegesis of 1 Corinthians against those NT scholars who claimed that Barth's reading of Paul was determined by his own theological concerns and could therefore tell us nothing about Pauline theology. In fact, the opposite is the case: Barth's reading of 1 Corinthians remains exegetically interesting today (while those of his contemporaries do not) because he took the historical Paul seriously as a pastor and understood the pastoral implications of Paul's theological argument for the resurrection of the dead. Barth's ‘theological exegesis’ enabled him to hear the theologian Paul and protected him against the historicizing tendencies of the NT scholars of his day.

A theological commentary on 1 Corinthians, Barth's Resurrection of the Dead (1924) is written in a complex genre, embracing the discourses of preaching, doctrine, ethics and historical criticism. Based on lectures delivered in 1923, it reveals the dialectical emphases of his early theology, though one may detect some development of his doctrine of the church and its apostolic authority. Barth's claim that the hermeneutical key to 1 Corinthians lies in its penultimate chapter on the resurrection was contested by Bultmann in an important article review. Already in the 1920s significant differences between two of the leading dialectical theologians can be detected. Bultmann's stress on the character of faith is apparent in the claim that 1 Cor 13 is the centre of the text, whereas Barth's stronger objectivism can be discerned in his appeal to Paul's foundational attesting of the resurrection. While Barth is arguably on stronger exegetical ground at this point, his reticence on the general resurrection of the dead remains puzzling. Despite its centrality for Paul and the later credal traditions of the church, this article of faith is handled with a restraint requiring some explanatory comment.

The skilfully arranged pieces collected in Rowan Williams's On Christian Theology are regarded by Geoffrey Wainwright as an informal dogmatics, an instance of ‘open system’. A subtle thinker and writer, Williams starts from the heartlands of the Christian faith and explores its boundaries. His work is evaluated in this article according to what he himself establishes as the celebratory, communicative, and critical styles of theology. Williams's kenotic trinitarianism is matched with his Abelardian view of the atonement, which seems to neglect some scriptural and traditional elements that a more Anselmian understanding would take into account. Freedom is a key notion for Williams but needs more definition in relation to ‘choice’; and his location of the church remains institutionally imprecise. Wainwright particularly appreciates Williams's exposition of the doctrine of creatio ex nihilo and the aesthetic, doxological, and eschatological dimensions of his ethical thought. The book under discussion is disarmingly modest in tone, and the author himself declares that repentance is always in order for a theologian.

One of the urgent needs of the church these days is to understand the ecclesial significance of controversy. To put it more plainly, we need to remember that conflict in the church is not necessarily a matter of revolt against and defence of a settled solution, but a God-given means of discovering what it is we actually believe. This is how the formulations of the classical creeds occurred: as questions arose, often far more bitterly and violently than in our own day, theological argument gradually found out its own rhythms and norms, and the figure hidden in the mass of as yet undifferentiated or half-articulated belief began to be made visible. So where controversy arises over matters not very fully dealt with so far in the history of our traditions, we should expect to learn something about both our methods and the substance of belief as the debate unfolds – whatever middle-term resolutions it comes to, and whatever long-term expression of ‘orthodoxy’ is agreed upon.

For Paul, ‘nature’ works differently for free Jewish men (torah-observers) and others (slaves, Gentiles, women), so that in Paul ‘nature’ is a differentiated rather than universal philosophical concept. Paul so differentiates natures according to theological considerations we might call narrative. Stories about God's relations with Israel set the context in which Paul's use of ‘nature’ makes sense. ‘Nature’ is a character in a story of captivity observed in the light of release (Rom 1:17–18).

The eucharist mobilizes the related concept of ‘body’ to enact a parallel story of captivity and release – the binding of Isaac and the crucifixion of Jesus – in which God exposes the worst that human beings can do (child sacrifice, execution of innocents) so that it can be healed.

Nature is a character in a story liturgically enacted in baptism, eucharist, marriage. The character's changing circumstances are plotted by the Spirit in traditions Syriac, Latin, Greek, German, and Russian. (Nature is perfected by grace.) No mere scenery, nature is dynamic. A creature of the Spirit, it is to grow. Ontologies of nature depend on the narrative for which they seek conditions. This narrative requires a dynamic and differentiated account so that nature can serve the promise of blessing.