The Church of England is currently debating what pronouns to use of God in liturgy. Opinions are strongly established on various sides. This article aims to slow the pace at which strong judgements are arrived at, through four sets of arguments. First, the distinctiveness of English compared with some other European languages and the danger of allowing the contingencies of English pronoun use to dominate the possible meanings of scripture. Second (drawing on the work of Janet Martin Soskice), the complexity of the figure of the fatherhood of God. Third, the significance of German philosophy of language in relation to negative theology and the particular ways in which the inadequacy of language about God has theological consequences. Fourth, a more philosophical discussion of the ways in which what is necessary or possible in one language cannot adequately be conveyed, as necessary or merely possible, in translation.

The recent recovery of the teaching that the three divine persons share one operation in their outward works raises the question of whether or in what sense the human operation of Christ belongs to the Son alone. My thesis is that all three divine persons move and support the Son's human operation while the Son alone is the proper subject of his human operation. In order to substantiate this thesis, I will consider two main issues: (1) the relationship between divine movement and human energy and (2) the relationship between nature and person in Christ's human action.

This essay considers Gregory of Nazianzus’ allusion to ‘divine deceit’, a motif related to the so-called ‘Christus Victor’ theory of atonement. This allusion is curious when we recall that for Gregory, the devil, not God, is the master of deception. When we treat On the Lights (Or. 39) as a literary unit – which commentators have yet to do – we see that Gregory makes several doctrinal affirmations before alluding to what is known as ‘divine deceit’. In this doctrinal discussion, Gregory draws upon the Platonic distinction between the orders of being and becoming as described in the Timaeus. He then alludes to ‘divine deceit’ with respect to the order of ‘becoming’, which bears the possibility of being misapprehended because it is ‘grasped by opinion’. The devil's ‘opinion’ of himself and of Christ, therefore, is suspect. Death – or rather, Christ's vanquishment of it – is the moment of reckoning. Since God alone can defeat death, Christ's putting death to death is the only certain way for the devil to recognise that the ‘Son of Man’ is, after all, the ‘Son of God’. The ‘devil's delusion’, then – not ‘divine deceit’ – best summarises Gregory's understanding of this moment in the history of salvation.

In this paper, I revisit a debate between Ludwig Feuerbach and Karl Barth, known as the ‘Barth–Feuerbach confrontation’. I begin by framing the contours of this dispute as it was initiated by Barth and carried forward by his interpreters, who have sought in vain to make Barth's and Feuerbach's positions commensurable. Having narrated the history of this ongoing scholarly discussion and clarified why it remains intractable, I turn to Dietrich Bonhoeffer, whose this-worldly conception of theology, I argue, provides resources for ‘mediating’ the insights of Feuerbach and Barth. By attending to Bonhoeffer's earliest engagements with Barth on the question of divine revelation, and by exploring his striking proximity to Feuerbach on the issue of this-worldliness, we can see how Bonhoeffer helps overcome not only the dichotomies that plague the Barth–Feuerbach confrontation but also those that pervade modern attempts to safeguard this-worldliness by dispensing with divine transcendence.

Oosterbaan identified a tradition of Anabaptist christology running from Ziegler in Strassborg in the 1520s to Menno Simons in the 1550s. I demonstrate that this tradition continued until at least around 1700, first amongst the Waterlander Mennonites in the Netherlands, and then amongst the English General Baptists. I sketch the development and diversity of the tradition, and then ask whether it might be considered ‘orthodox’, and whether reflecting on the scholarly reception of this tradition might help academic theologians to engage better with marginalised Christian communities today.

Markus Barth (1915–1994) is best-known for his pioneering work in Jewish-Christian dialogue, and his Anchor Bible commentaries. Convinced that Ephesians 2:14–16 is the core of Paul's gospel, Barth concluded that the ‘one new man’ in Christ not only necessitates an indissoluble solidarity between Christians and Jews, but entails that all enmities have been negated by Christ's reconciliatory work. Ironically, this conviction provoked in him an antagonism towards many of his Jewish interlocutors. Their refusal to ‘forget Auschwitz’ caused Barth to accuse them of not being sufficiently conciliatory, and in turn led him, with sadly supersessionistic logic, to eschew reconciliation with them, because he did not think they took reconciliation seriously enough.

Karl Barth's Theology of the Reformed Confessions characterised those catechetical texts as more ethical in orientation and more horizontal in focus than the corresponding Lutheran symbols. By examining both primary and secondary sources, this paper shows that while Barth legitimately illumines a key element of the Reformed witness regarding a connection between faith and life, his polemical eye may also distort his perspective on its distinctiveness, likely owing to contextual factors related to his self-fashioning a Reformed identity in his early academic service at the predominantly Lutheran University of Göttingen and alongside his colleague, Emanuel Hirsch.

Thomas Aquinas and most Christian theologians after him asserted that it is improper to attribute hatred to God. In 1598 the Jesuit theologian Gabriel Vázquez intrepidly argued that God can hate – not only with hatred of abomination but also with inimical hatred. Vázquez's surprising innovation is best explained in the context of the theological disputes between Jesuits and Dominicans on justification. Specifically, Vázquez is elaborating on the idea found in the Council of Trent that justification is a transition from enmity to friendship requiring a real change in the person being justified. He did so to counter views among Dominican theologians that this interior renewal could be in some way operated by God from the outside by way of a reconceptualisation of the sinner or a reevaluation of the value of his meritorious actions. These polemics drove Vázquez to rely on a robust, realist picture of friendship, based on the idea that affections must fit real qualities.

In 1257, the election of Bonaventure of Bagnoregio (c. 1217–1274) as leader of the Franciscan Order thrust him from the regulated world of academia into the polarised world of the Order. In his Breviloquium, completed just after his transition from a scholastic to an administrative and pastoral role, exegesis was mainly a form of intellectual contemplation mediated by Scripture. In his Itinerarium mentis in Deum, completed in 1259, exegesis became a form of contemplative encounter with the textual origin, Christ. This transformation of exegetical method in response to changing contexts and audiences manifests a different way of relating to Scripture.

This article explores the ways in which the thirteen ‘biographical superscriptions’ which are found throughout the Psalter contribute to the blending of the Davidic voice which they invoke and the corporate voice of the community which receives them. It suggests that by receiving these thirteen Psalms, the canonical community enters an intensive identification with David and participates in the Davidic life and experience. Once this is established, the discussion turns to examine these insights in a Christian theological context in conversation with Augustine's totus Christus principle. It is suggested that the hermeneutical situation created by the biographical superscriptions provides a way for the totus Christus principle to be re-invoked in contemporary interpretation.

In the last century, beauty has not often found itself enlisted in struggles for justice. As Alexander Nehemas recounts, beauty's severance from goodness and truth in the modern period renders beauty dangerous, its charm easily wielded as an instrument of oppression in the hands of the powerful. While some scholars have argued for a return to the pre-modern metaphysics that binds beauty to truth and goodness, the abuse of beauty is not simply a modern phenomenon, and its resistance requires more than a pre-modern solution. Beauty is eschatological; thus its abuse points to a failure to order it properly to its eschatological end. This article will argue that the abuse of beauty can be resisted not by spiritualising beauty, but by ordering physical beauty to its eschatological end. This end is most clearly seen in the ascended Christ, with his beautiful body that is human, wounded and hidden.

In this article I explore three ways of reflecting on faith in God's providence and correlative understandings of prayer. My study suggests a praxeological understanding of the doctrine of providence as tacit knowledge. First, I present the soteriological dialogical approach of Catherine of Siena, from her late medieval Dialogue on providence. Secondly, I analyse the quietist vitalist approach of the early modern English philosopher Anne Conway in her Principles of Philosophy. Thirdly, I reflect on the critical, non-interventionist approach of the French philosopher and mystic Simone Weil. I conclude by discussing the interrelation between providence and prayer.

Gregory the Great's Moralia in Job has been said to mark a transitional phase in the development of atonement doctrine. I argue that the Moralia cohesively portrays Christ's redemptive work as achieving something in two directions: towards God, a vicarious payment of humanity's debt of punishment; towards humanity, an efficaciously convicting and restorative example. This sustains a spirituality in which exacting and self-denying moral effort rests on freedom from judgement and on the death accomplished by the Mediator. Engaging the Moralia in this manner illuminates patristic exegetical sensibilities and proves instructive about how the fathers fit into later taxonomies of atonement models.

The connection between ecological responsibility and differing conceptions of Christian eschatology is widely observed. It is often assumed that the necessary response to Christian environmental inaction is affirmation of a strongly this-worldly vision of new creation (so, influentially, N. T. Wright). However, recent systematic theology has seen retrieval of elements of eschatology that foreground discontinuity and transcendence (e.g. Hans Boersma). Moreover, there are exegetical challenges to continuationist claims (e.g. Markus Bockmuehl and Edward Adams) and doctrinal reactions to ‘eschatological naturalism’ (Katherine Sonderegger and Michael Allen). Where does this leave the connection between ecological witness and the content of Christian hope? Doubtless, continuationist accounts have some salutary emphases, but on exegetical, doctrinal and moral grounds I seek to disentangle the assumed compact of particular construals of this-worldly continuity and ethical commitment. Finally, drawing on James Cone's meditations upon black spiritual traditions, I explore how discontinuous interpretations of the life to come themselves need not undermine responsible action.

Bruce L. McCormack's recent christological proposal intends to move beyond the apparent impasse in theological discourse between God's aseity and God's world relation. In describing the second mode of divine being as personally constituted by receptivity to the human Jesus of Nazareth without losing the logos asarkos, McCormack's proposed christological innovation offers a way to consider relation to the world as proper to God through the Son, without absolute pronobeity coming to dominate in the doctrine of God. This being said, his christological proposal, as it stands, implies both that election is antecedent to triunity and that the person of Jesus of Nazareth is antecedent to the act of the incarnation. With the former comes the problem of sequence in the priority of divine act over divine being. With the latter comes the problem of offering a unified account of two agencies. As such, while ontological receptivity continues to hold significant possibilities for the doctrine of God, it requires more careful coordination to the relation of passive generation as such.

This essay examines the relationship between Jean-Luc Marion's argument of ‘conceptual idolatry’ and John Duns Scotus’ doctrine of the univocity of being. I argue that Scotus does fall under Marion's criticisms, which radically undermine the use of ‘being’ in theology, but that univocity, in its barest Scotist form, also seems impossible to avoid. After arguing that attempts to move past this ontological conundrum fail, I conclude the relationship stands at an impasse. While this conclusion is critical, I make it for the sake of a constructive argument: post-metaphysical theology should reckon with the inevitability of being, appreciating this impasse between the apparent hegemony of being and the priority of God's self-revelation. Making the impasse clear at least points the way towards a renewed theological consideration of being.

The term ‘natural theology’ provokes a variety of reactions, spanning from whole-hearted endorsement to passionate rejection. Charged as it is with polemical and pejorative undertones, this debate begs for an intervention. If the scholarly community is to engage constructively with the concept and practice of natural theology – either by way of acceptance, rejection, or something in between – clarity in its definition and identification is imperative. The aim of this paper is to try to shed some light on three of the most common definitions of ‘natural theology’ in contemporary scholarship, to provide clarity about the ways in which they differ, and to propose some conceptual refinements in the hope that, if adopted, more fruitful discourse may take place in relation to this much-debated and interdisciplinary phrase.

Ezekiel 16 paints one of the harshest pictures in the Hebrew Bible. In a brokenhearted cry of rage, the prophet contemplates Jerusalem's history of relationship with God. Employing familial imagery, the relationship is characterised by constraints and penalties, including instances of sexual violence imposed by God. Consequently, the allegory challenges the perception of the deity as an exemplary figure. This article posits that the allegory deliberately delivers a jolt to its recipients by depicting God as transgressing a social taboo, by altering his role for the people from a father to a spouse. This depiction of incestuous relationship wields the power to evoke threat and terror. It acknowledges that the breaching of the taboo of a father–daughter incestuous relationship, albeit inadvisable, is possible. By ascribing to God a behaviour that fathers strive to avoid, the reproach captures the imagination of its recipients, leaving a profound impact upon them.

The Christian mystical tradition approaches the apocalyptic as praxis – a way of living that renounces the world as it is, lives proleptically into a counter-world of God's reign and practices indifferent freedom in the meantime to love God and neighbour. Although concerns about the ethical viability of such a disposition have merit, this essay demonstrates its constructive possibility through recourse to two archives: the writings of Evagrius of Pontus and the witness of Francis of Assisi. By recovering a scriptural distinction between world and creation, and by emphasising the posture of holy indifference, apocalyptic praxis offers a resource and guide.

Cyril of Alexandria's Festal Letters are an underutilised source of his theology. Through them one can trace the development of his thought throughout the tumultuous years of his episcopacy. In this article, I draw attention to Cyril's ‘unitive’ Christology and the way he explains the incarnation to those under his pastoral care. Cyril employs key strategies informed by strong theological convictions to describe Christ as one subject who is fully divine and human.