Karl Barth died in the early hours of 10 December 1968, God's greatest gift to theological science in the whole of the modern era. Albert Einstein once wrote of Isaac Newton: ‘To think of him is to think of his work. For such a man can be understood only by thinking of him as a scene on which the struggle for eternal truth took place.’ That is surely the way in which we must remember Karl Barth, for in him there took place a profound struggle for the eternal Word of God in which the whole framework of the Church's understanding of God from ancient to modern times was subjected to critical and constructive inquiry in the search for a unified and comprehensive basis in the Grace of God for all theology. He has no need of praise from us, for the work he was given to accomplish will endure to bless the world for many centuries to come. If Karl Barth has left behind no school of ‘Barthians’, it is because he belongs to the whole universe of theology in a way that no mere leader of a new movement of thought ever could.

Much research in biblical studies today concerns itself with hermeneutics, in which biblical scholars attempt to establish principles of interpretation which will do justice to the meaning of the Bible. The need for hermeneutics is apparent for the understanding of any literature and especially of the Scripture since an understanding of the Bible involves the interpreter's subjective element of faith. The Bible in contrast to much literature asks the reader for his interest, his faith, and his commitment to God. Consequently subjective notions and arbitrary fancies frequently play a part in determining what the interpretation should be. Before the reader has been properly disciplined in understanding the language of other peoples living in ancient times, he has set up his own rules of interpretation which satisfy his own predilections but hardly the message of the inspired writer.

Since Barth has not developed any systematic treatise on the doctrine of analogy, what I hope to say in this paper is rather implicit in his Church Dogmatics, especially the volumes I/1, II/1, III/1, III/2, IV/1 and IV/3.

It is no coincidence that contemporary theology is dominated by the problem of understanding (hermeneutics) and that the key to Karl Barth's theology should deal with the same problem (Anselm: Fides Quaerens Intellectum). It is the seriousness with which this problem is taken that distinguishes the contemporary theological situation from nineteenth-century protestant liberalism. The problematic for both the nineteenth and the twentieth century was stated by Lessing: ‘Accidental truths of history can never constitute the proof of necessary truths of reason. That, that is the ugly, broad ditch I can never cross over, no matter how often or earnestly I have attempted the leap. If anyone can help me over, let him do it!’ But this basic problematic of the relation between the private dimension of faith and the public dimension of thought was approached in quite different ways by the two centuries.

Some years ago Barth fell seriously ill, and no one, least of all he himself, dared hope that he would ever again be capable of adding another volume to the twelve volumes of his opus magnum, the Church Dogmatics, which had appeared from 1932 till 1962. After his remarkable recovery in autumn 1965, however, he has paid a visit to Rome in September 1966, the fruit of which was his highly instructive report Ad Limina Apostolorum (reviewed in SJT, vol. 21, No. 1, pp. 110f), and now he has presented us with another volume of his Church Dogmatics, though, for the reasons given in the Preface to K.D. IV.4, the latter had to be confined to a fraction of what Barth had originally hoped to achieve in that volume. To understand what follows, we must call to mind that Barth, treating ethics as an integral part of dogmatics, had dealt in his doctrine of God (C.D. II.2) with the command of God as an essential element in the very Being of God (general ethics). In his doctrine of creation (C.D. III.4) he had discussed the command (special ethics) of God the Creator. In his teaching on reconciliation he had so far expounded (C.D. IV. 1–3) the three aspects of Jesus Christ's work of reconciliation, namely His priestly work as the Lord (Son of God) who became a servant to accomplish the work of reconciliation, His kingly work as the servant (Son of Man) who became Lord and by His exaltation exalted man to fellowship with God, and His prophetic work as the Godman who as the Mediator of man's reconciliation with God is the Guarantor and Witness of that reconciliation.

One might say that, by and large, the French are interested in John Calvin as a Christian humanist, the Germans in Calvin as a Christian theologian, and the Dutch in Calvin as a Christian philosopher. Of course, in some sense, Calvin is all these; therefore the precise relation in Calvin between scriptural theology and Platonic humanism will continue to be discussed. Concerning the doctrine of soul, Roy W. Battenhouse in an influential article entitled ‘The Doctrine of Man in Calvin and in Renaissance Platonism’ suggests that there are important resemblances between Calvin and Renaissance Platonism in the treatment of human nature. He claims that ‘both the Neoplatonists and Calvin base their thinking about man on the premise of a dualism between soul and body’, which reveals ‘Calvin's fundamental Platonism’. Although Battenhouse calls his study ‘frankly exploratory and tentative’ and uses such phrases as ‘may have been’ and ‘seems to have’ and ‘it can be argued’, the evidence demonstrates to him ‘that Calvin's socalled biblical theology is not quite so biblical as its nuggets of quotation would like to impress upon us’. Jean Boisset, while insisting that Calvin's thought is basically biblical, also finds similarities between Calvin and Plato in the doctrine of soul, and Heinrich Quistorp thinks that the question remains whether in fact Calvin does not develop a doctrine of soul which is more philosophical than theological. Quistorp thinks that Luther was more aware of the contrast between biblical anthropology and philosophical dualism than Calvin was.

It is no small consolation to one rash enough to agree to lecture on this subject that the title of the lecture is a question rather than an assertion. The title is a question to which the lecturer must address himself rather than a summary of the information contained in the lecture.

Justin Martyr was one of the most important of the second-century Christian Apologists. He made an outstanding contribution to the intellectual tradition of Christian thought by his interpretation of the logos and was also the first thinker after St. Paul to grasp the universalistic element in Christianity and to sum up the history of civilisation as finding its consummation in Christ. Yet Justin was far more than a Christian intellectual for his approach is biblical, pastoral and evangelistic and firmly based on God's care and love for men revealed supremely in Jesus Christ. And, as has long been recognised, the information that he gives about Christian worship and sacraments is of high value as being the fullest account to have come down from the ante-Nicene period of the Church.

It is now nine years since the death of Principal John Baillie of New College, Edinburgh, and as yet there has been no adequate study of his extremely fruitful life and thought. This essay is intended as a prologue to such a study, and in it I hope to show not only that this kind of inquiry would be of considerable historical interest, but that it would also be helpful as a means of getting our bearings in the midst of the current theological confusion. For John Baillie was no stranger to theological struggle, breakdown, and renewal in either his private life or his theological reflection, although the irenic spirit of much of his writing might tend to give the opposite impression. Indeed it was just that nineteenth-century bifurcation of life and thought which provided much of the impetus for his most creative and penetrating theological work, and which may provide some helpful insights into the nature of the theological problems confronting us today.

The second edition of John Marsh's English translation of Rudolf Bultmann's massive work The History of the Synoptic Tradition has now been issued by Basil Blackwell at 50s. This translation is based on the German edition of 1931, but it is now enhanced by an eighty-page supplement, in which Bultmann replies in detail to some of the criticisms which have been made of his book up to the year 1958. We owe John Marsh a great debt of gratitude for providing us in the first place with so excellent a translation of this important work, and also for bringing us up to date with the debate which it has aroused. The one criticism I would make of the translator's work is the totally inadequate indexes. We only have a scriptural index for references to the four Gospels, and the general index is miserably meagre. So weighty a work of scholarship deserves a better apparatus than that.

In different ages man has asked different questions about God and himself.

A Secure grasp of Thomas Altizer's theology is not an easy achievement. But if I have correctly understood it, I would argue that it turns on an axis of three themes. These themes will be examined and evaluated here. The critical point I will develop is that the manner in which Professor Altizer has set the stage for what he defends as ‘radical theology’ results in two major deficiences—an inability to confront and wrestle with the reality of evil, and a failure to account for freedom as the source of evil.

The Catholic Apostolic Church is now for most purposes a thing of the past. Except for schismatic off-shoots in Germany and elsewhere, it has denied itself the right to consecrate bishops, ordain priests and administer confirmation; the Apostles and Bishops are all dead, the subordinate clergy are nearly all dead, and no new members can be made. However, this virtually extinct body has an important place in modern Church history. Its forms of worship are important for the student of liturgy in general, and in particular for such a student with an ecumenical interest.

Some years ago I published an article on this topic where more details can be found on what I may call analytic aspects concerning validity.page 1 But in the intervening years the attitude of many has indicated a willingness to consider change on this matter. Amongst Anglicans there seem fewer ministerial fundamentalists. Also a Roman Catholic has pointed out that in 1896 when Anglican orders were declared invalid Roman Catholic theologians were divided amongst themselves and today a leading Roman Catholic has said that he would like to see the matter reviewed.page 2 Indeed Roman references to ‘ecclesial communities’ and to penitence for their share in the divisions of the Church may be a hopeful sign and ease the way for a review of their attitude to validity and claim to be the one and only true church.page 3

The Reformed churches have frequently regarded the Reformation in ways that are contradictory but without seeing the contradictions. On the one hand the Reformation is assumed to be the common and binding heritage of Fundamentalists, the various Presbyterian churches throughout the world, the Southern Baptists, the Taizé Community, even the avant garde of the Second Vatican Council and BonhoefFer's ‘Protestants without a Reformation’. ‘Justification by faith’, ‘the priesthood of all believers’, ‘the Bible alone’ and often ‘no Bishops’ are catchwords, said to be common to all, and somehow entailing each other.

In the Apology Socrates moves immediately to focus the issue: ‘Let the witness speak the truth and the judge decide with equity.’ Truthfulness is an implied claim in every kind of judgment we make, even as justice raises a norm for living at its best. These inseparables shadow our every decision within the knowing process. A scrupulous honesty in thinking is as necessary for the natural scientist as for the ethicist. That common necessity is too often slighted, but the cost is never reduced. In one way or another this kind of conscience identifies us all. Every caricature of it proportionately restricts the prime conditions for human advance. One of the commonest ways of distorting the situation is to confuse morals with morality, transient ideas about the right and the good with valid ethical principles. Both suneidēsis and conscio put descriptive conditions within a moral value-context as the pivotal point of experience. Here truthfulness sets conditions for weaving judgments together and a moral climate guarantees integrity in the product. If this idea has validity, the perennial problem concerns keeping the way open for a genuine forum on conscience in its efforts to epitomise the thinking process at its highest reach. At this point our intellectual climate contributes special difficulties.

God is known by what He has done.' This sentence sums up one of the leading themes of biblical theology. The biblical writers (it is said) thought of revelation, not in terms of propositions or ideas, but as taking place through historical events in which God disclosed His nature and purpose. Moreover, these events were not the inner spiritual experiences of mystics, but public events involving the destinies of nations as well as individuals. The events had to be interpreted, of course, and the revelation was not complete without the interpretation; but the knowledge of God was always an inference from what had happened, never a matter of general or timeless concepts.

The first problem which confronts us is that of the relation of this verse and of the whole section 5.12–21 to what has preceded.

The declaration that ‘Yahweh is a Man of Wars’page 1 poses a problem for the modern reader of the Old Testament. The direct connexion between God and war seems to be alien to the spirit of the New Testament. And today, when the horrors of war are so constantly in the news, this epithet for God seems to be all the more abhorrent. The epithet was quoted at the beginning of an article in an earlier volume of this Journal, A. Gelston's ‘The Wars of Israel’.page 2 The problem becomes most acute in the question of the wars of conquest, for there we can trace two aspects of Yahweh's activity. On the one hand, Yahweh uses war as a means of judgment on the sinful Canaanitespage 3; on the other hand, He uses war as a means to an end, namely the fulfilment of the patriarchal and Covenant promises.page 4 Although Gelston mentions this double aspect of the wars of conquest (p. 326), his conclusions only satisfy the former of the two aspects (p. 331). Of his five summary points, two are applicable to this particular case. The first is that ‘when Yahweh is identified with Israel's cause, the motive is usually the execution of judgment on Yahweh's enemies’, and secondly he declares that ‘Yahweh alone is ultimately sovereign in human history, and his cause is always just’.

I. Is there anything distinctive about Christian ethics? Many recent writers have claimed that there is, but have at the same time denied that this distinctiveness depends upon the truth of any factual assertions about the being of God. Some have gone even further, and claimed that the Christian faith is nothing but commitment to a distinctive ethic—of concern for others, or ‘agapism’—and does not involve any belief about the existence of supernatural beings.