The question concerning conflicting truth claims so often at the center of theological discussions of religious pluralism has not shown signs of resolution insofar as the debates have proceeded from within the framework of propositional discourses. Among other reasons, this is in part due to the inadequacies of language to capture and communicate transcendental realities, in part due to the variety of interpretative systems associated with the religions, and in part due to religious truths claims as inviting inhabitation and practical embodiment rather than just describing objective realities. The thesis proposed here is that a pneumatological approach to the diversity of religions provides hitherto untapped resources for the theological understanding of religious truth. Building on the narrative of Pentecost in Acts 2, it is suggested that the Spirit's being poured out upon all flesh enables us not only to register the values of particular and distinct claims to truth, but also to engage such truths in some ways ‘from the inside’. This preserves the otherness of the religious other even while enabling interreligious dialogue.

While Karl Barth balances the reliability of revelation with divine counterfactual freedom through the analogia temporalis, Robert Jenson rejects this form of analogy, arguing that it posits an unknowable reality of God behind revelation. He instead transposes metaphysics into narratological terms, arguing that this secures the reliability of revelation and divine freedom, since it means God is future to (and so undetermined by) events in time. This metric for divine freedom cannot, however, replace counterfactual possibility; hence, the analogia temporalis (presupposed in counterfactuals) re-emerges in Jenson's theology. This form of analogy is essential in balancing the reliability of revelation with divine freedom.

In 2003, the year he was consecrated bishop of Durham, Tom Wright published his magisterial work The Resurrection of the Son of God. This volume of more than 800 pages is a monumental defence of the reality of the resurrection. Immensely learned and circumspect, the book impresses the reader with its academic and theological passion. In my view, Bishop Wright has succeeded in building a theological cathedral of illuminating historical insights, convincing and surprising exegetical observations, and thoroughly argued systematic conclusions. No prophetic intuition is needed to predict that this book will remain a classic among the writings which stimulate further thinking and discourse about this most important and highly controversial topic of faith.

Although it was never completed and has had only slight impact, T. F. Torrance's work on the nature and interpretation of scripture is a primary element in his theology, though largely unstudied. For Torrance, a theology of scripture and its interpretation derive from a theology of revelation; revelation takes creaturely form in the incarnate Word, out of which is generated the apostolic community and its witness, which in turn generates scripture, the human word which ministers the divine Word. Scripture is the divine Word accommodated to human form, and so a sacrament or sign which refers to revelation; its social location is the life of the apostolic community. Interpretation of scripture is properly ‘depth-interpretation’, following the semantics of scripture by which reference to divine reality is made, rather than terminating on scripture's syntactical surface. Fitting interpretative practice follows the text's reference, penetrates to the thing signified, indwells its subject matters and listens to the divine Word. The interpreter is summoned to mortification of prejudice and constantly renewed attentiveness. Torrance's most impressive contribution to bibliology and hermeneutics was his insistence that both are ingredients within a theology of God's economic presence. There are some historical limitations to his work, along with a lack of interest in the Christian literary culture and lack of extended exegesis. However, his writings in the field constitute one of the most impressive Protestant accounts of the field in the last half-century.

Soteriological participation in God, variously termed theosis, divinisation or deification commands widespread interest across the spectrum of Christian theology. A key difficulty is how to maintain the creator–creature distinction, while bridging it to gain intimacy. Jonathan Edwards provides a Reformed perspective on this conversation, by way of his distinction between the incommunicable divine essence and the communicable divine fullness. This article clarifies this distinction by evaluating its coherence and exploring whether it divorces God's immanent and economic life. It argues that distinguishing two forms of participation – methexis verses koinonia – clarifies coherence and shows that it does not divide God's being from act.

The Protestant church, for Reinhard Hütter, relinquished its ecclesial public character when it turned from ‘binding doctrine’ as the means for establishing and maintaining its concrete ‘time-space’. Christendom disguised this basic theological flaw, but with its collapse the public basis of the Protestant church fell away. This reduced the church's witness and destroyed its communal structure. His positive proposal re-establishes the church as a public by reference to the communion nature of God, and to church practices as mediate forms of the Spirit's acting. Hütter's account shadows an argument made fifty years before by Johannes C. Hoekendijk, observing an intensified focus on word and sacrament and the promotion of a culture as a solution to the problem of the church's witness. Yet, for Hoekendijk, this logic exemplifies the problem. The institutions of the church come to bear the full evangelistic load. Mission replicates the basic structures of a particular way of life as a necessary precursor to the gospel. The act of witness becomes propaganda because of an insufficient doctrine of the church. This insufficiency is a failing in the doctrine of the Trinity: God's own life is defined without sufficient attention to his act of reconciliation and redemption as itself material to understanding the nature of his in se life.

When Jürgen Moltmann's Theology of Hope first appeared in 1965, it was seen as ushering in a new era of theological thinking. Karl Barth, however, sharply criticised the work as too heavily dominated by a ‘principle of hope’ that he believed Moltmann had inherited from the Marxist philosopher Ernst Bloch. This interpretation has largely been taken as fact among interpreters of Moltmann's theology of hope. This has caused most interpreters to see his turn to panentheism and ecotheology in God in Creation (1983) as being less of a shift of emphasis than a total change of trajectory or even break. There is evidence, however, that a different source contributed to the overall orientation of Moltmann's theology – an orientation that has remained throughout his life. This other source is the life and thought of the radical Schwäbean Pietists, Johann Christoph Blumhardt (1805–80) and his son Christoph Blumhardt (1842–1919). In this article the authors flesh out the thesis that the Blumhardts are the prior, deeper and more long-lasting influence on Moltmann by focusing on three key theological motifs that permeate his theology: 1) Christianity as eschatology; 2) the ‘theology of the earth’; and 3) the ethics of hope. Furthermore, they argue that when the ‘hidden’ influence of the Blumhardts is acknowledged, Moltmann's later ‘shift’ can be understood as essentially in continuity, rather than discontinuity, with his earlier thought.

Contrary to much of the recent literature on the trinitarian theology of John Owen, which often ascribes radical personal distinction to his account of triune relations and actions, this paper argues that Owen's account of distinct divine persons and trinitarian actions ought not to be contrasted with his theological forebears: Augustine, Thomas Aquinas and Calvin. Instead, his account of trinitarian ontology and operation is thoroughly consistent with (and dependent upon) the Augustinian principles that these interpreters suspect Owen is rejecting. The argument unfolds by presenting four putative points of strong personal distinction in John Owen's trinitarian theology and then reinterpreting each of the themes and passages that these four points are supposedly rooted in, evidencing his Augustinian account of trinitarian unity and distinction.

Bede's Historia ecclesiastica makes it clear that Theodore of Tarsus, the seventh-century archbishop of Canterbury, is a figure who should command an immense amount of interest. His learning and cosmopolitan formation call upon the scholar to ask what it is that he contributed to the English church in his time and beyond. Yet interest in Theodore as a theologian has been lacking to date, most likely due to the limited amount of material attributable to him. Jane Stevenson's work on the anonymous Laterculus Malalianus in the early 1990s suggested Theodore as the most likely author. That this suggestion has proven consistent with other, cumulative evidence of Theodore's life and work makes the Laterculus an invaluable text for the student investigating his theology. This article seeks to present the theological themes of the text, especially as they relate to the person and work of Christ, and to introduce the reader to Theodore of Tarsus as a figure of interest in the study of early medieval christology.

The aspiration to find a theological perspective from which to view political life is a very old one. The converse – seeking to view theology from a political perspective – is new. It is one indication, perhaps, of an important cultural reversal of religion and politics. In what, retrospectively, has come to be known as ‘Christendom’, people subjected political philosophies to the test of faithfulness to biblical truth because, they supposed, the ways of politics are, and should be, subservient to the ways of God. In the long shadow of the French Revolution, however, democratic consensus and human rights have become the touchstones by which religious practices, and even Christian doctrines, are commonly assessed and regulated. In short, the content of anything called a ‘Christian’ political philosophy is judged acceptable or unacceptable by secular standards.

In their remarkable new book, Christianity, Democracy, and the Radical Ordinary, Stanley Hauerwas and Rom Coles endorse a radical turn in our democratic practices and ecclesial engagements. In what follows, I say what this turn amounts to and consider what reasons might encourage churches and democracies to make it. In the end, I argue that good reasons are missing. We should forgo the radical and settle for just democracy, just church. In large measure, it is a dispute over Augustine's legacy as a social critic. Hauerwas and Coles accent the discussion of pagan virtue and temporal politics in the City of God while I prefer the remarks on idolatry and just love from book 4 of the Confessions. Hauerwas and Coles might share Augustine's anxiety about idolatry, but they resist his solution. He suspects that our idolatrous tendencies can be resolved only as we take on the just love of Christ, while they are inclined to think that democracy and church made radical will do the trick. They might also insist that their departure from Augustine on this matter is less than it seems, that they accent the radical in order to avoid unjust love, but I'm not convinced and in the end I bring in Plato's Alcibiades – garlanded, drunk and angry – to help justify my doubts.

Without doubt, David Kelsey's Eccentric Existence: A Theological Anthropology (henceforth, EE) is one of the most significant and important contributions to the field of theology from this generation of theologians. The two-volume work of over a thousand pages (really one volume bound into two books because of its size) is Kelsey's magnum opus, and arises from more than three decades of study and thought. It addresses directly and (properly) theologically central issues relating to humanity in relation to God and to creation (‘all that is not God’). This book has arisen within a theological setting of conversations with other members of the ‘Yale school’ (Hans Frei and George Lindbeck). Yet, there is a sense in which this book surpasses what that school of thought has offered thus far, not by beginning on an altogether different theological path, but by journeying further, and bringing what that theological approach has to offer to bear on one doctrinal locus in a way which the other key proponents of post-liberal theology have not yet done: Kelsey moves from discussing a theological method to using that theological method more fully and directly than has previously been the case in relation to the theological content of a single theological issue.

Several years before the mode of Christ's eucharistic presence became a controverted issue which would presently provoke a lasting schism among the Churches of the Reformation, Luther could unaffectedly propound the traditional dogma of the bodily presence of Christ in the Sacrament of the Altar as a necessary consequence of the evangelical quest for the sensus grammaticus of the words of institution. The same exegetical method which led to his reappropriation of the doctrine of the justification of the sinner ‘by grace, for Christ's sake, through faith’ obliged him to confess that ‘the bread is the body of Christ’. Already here, in the mordantly anti-Roman treatise On the Babylonian Captivity of the Church, Luther has laid his finger on the model in terms of which he will understand the real presence to the end of his days: the consecrated host is the body of Christ, just as the assumed humanity of jesus Christ is the Son of God. The displacement of the scholastic theory of transubstantiation by the model of the incarnate person illustrates the Reformer's allegiance to the Chalcedonian Definition: ‘Luther is really replacing Aristotelian categories by those derived from Chalcedonian christology, to which he remained faithful: “unconfusedly, unchangeably, indivisibly, inseparably”.’ While the doctrine of the real presence moved from the periphery to the centre of Luther's theology and piety as the 1520s wore on, his conception of the modality of the eucharistic presence remained constant throughout.

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.

This article examines Karl Barth's engagement with the philosophy of religion of Ludwig Feuerbach. In The Essence of Christianity, Feuerbach proposes that religion is a function of human projection and that the Christian concept of God represents the crystallisation in one objectified subject of all the finite perfections of individual human beings. In Church Dogmatics, I/2, Barth seeks to respond to Feuerbach's critique of Christianity by affirming Feuerbach's critical account of the nature of religion but arguing that, since the original impetus of Christianity issues not from human projection but from God's act of self-revelation in Jesus Christ, Feuerbach's critique of religion does not apply to the Christian faith. Glasse notes that this response, whilst satisfactory to the Christian, would be ‘not intelligible’ to those who do not accept the Christian faith. Furthermore, Barth's apologetic manoeuvre, Vogel claims, entails that Barth is unable to defend the plausibility of the Christian faith on the terms set by secular culture, and that Christian theology is therefore required to abandon any attempt to participate constructively in general public discourse. Vogel recognises that this is a drastic recourse indeed, observing that it would be judicious for Christian theology to seek to elaborate a response to Feuerbach's critique which can stand without requiring the critic to assume the veracity of the Christian faith. This article argues that, by taking into account the role of Feuerbach's earlier work, Thoughts on Death and Immortality, for constituting the philosophical impetus of Feuerbach's critique of Christianity, the Christian theologian is able, using Barth's theological anthropology, to provide a response to Feuerbach's critique on Feuerbach's own terms. In Thoughts on Death and Immortality, Feuerbach argues that Protestant Christianity, as the paradigmatic expression of religion, conceives the individual as an absolute being, and that, due to the fact that everyday existence clearly counter-indicates this absolutisation of the human individual, Protestantism posits a second, eternal life, in which the limits bound up with individual existence are eradicated. Using Barth's theological anthropology in Church Dogmatics, III/2 and III/4, this article proposes that Barth concurs with Feuerbach's critique of the absolutisation of the individual, but that he is positioned to deny that this absolutised conception of the individual has anything to do with the Christian faith insofar as he accurately represents it.

This article argues that the quests for the historical Jesus have largely operated with an understanding of history hindered by a severely constricted range of divine and human possibilities. By outlining human ‘self-understanding’ as a historiographical question, it emphasises the determinative role in historical judgement played by the historian's assumptions about the range of possibility available to the processes of human thought. Highlighting three particular concerns that historians tend to connect to ‘docetism’, it suggests a couple of ways that metaphysical and theological forms of reasoning could expand the horizon of possibilities available to historical Jesus scholarship in a way that will augment access to the historical figure of Jesus.