This paper elucidates the connections in Gregory of Nyssa's thought between the rite of baptism, the doctrine of God as Trinity, and practices of ecclesial pedagogy. These components formed a dynamic and differentiated whole for Gregory. To consider one element in isolation from the others runs the risk of interpretive distortion of Gregory's work. This means that the current tendency to harvest Gregory's trinitarian ideas abstracted or disembodied from the rite of baptism and practices of ecclesial pedagogy perpetuates the false notion that the doctrine of the Trinity can be adequately treated apart from liturgical and pedagogical concerns.

This article demonstrates that an economic context is essential to the metaphor that Anselm of Canterbury and Peter Abelard used in their arguments against a ransom theory of atonement. Contrary to typical analyses, which suggest their metaphor makes a point about obedience or honour that slaves or servants owe to a master or king, this metaphor in fact suggests relations between the lord of a manor and his servi – serfs bound to the land, perpetually indebted to the lord and effectively considered his property. Should servi attempt to desert their lord, he had the right simply to reclaim them wherever they went. Insofar as this right voided the servus’ choice to leave their lord, the metaphorical framework of manorial economy ruled out the ‘rights of the devil’ in a way previous debt-slavery and military frameworks for ransom theory (in themselves) did not.

This article proposes that Calvin's ‘hardness of heart’ principle functions as a substantive limitation on political authority and the law, creating the legal space for meaningful moral pluralism. Calvin distinguished between the spiritual and civil uses of the law, as well as between the natural moral law and the civil law within the Mosaic law. He repeatedly used Jesus' concept of ‘hardness of heart’ to explain inadequacies within the Mosaic law and to articulate a general principle about the nature and limits of civil law. This approach has important implications for law and morality in contemporary contexts characterised by a degree of moral pluralism that Calvin scarcely could have anticipated.

Following the thinking of Karl Barth, this article demonstrates how and why reading the Bible in faith is necessary in order to understand the truth which is and remains identical with God himself speaking to us in his Word and Spirit. After developing how faith, grace, revelation and truth are connected in Barth's theology by being determined by who God is in Jesus Christ, this article explains why Barth was essentially correct in claiming that we cannot know God truly through a study of religious experience but only through Christ himself and thus through the Spirit. I illustrate that for Barth the truth of religion simply cannot be found in the study of religion itself but only through revelation. That is why he applied the doctrine of justification by faith both to knowledge of God and to reading scripture. In light of what is then established, I conclude by briefly exploring exactly why the thinking of Paul Tillich, and three theologians who follow the general trend of Tillich's thinking (John Haught, John A. T. Robinson and S. Mark Heim), exemplify the correctness of Barth's analysis of the relation between religion and revelation, since each theologian is led to an understanding of who God is, how we reach God and how the doctrine of the Trinity should be understood that actually undermines Barth's emphasis on the fact that all knowledge of God and all doctrine should be dictated solely by who God is in Jesus Christ.

Since at least the time of Albert Schweitzer's attempt to move justification from die Mitte to the margins, the question of the centre of Paul's theology has included a criticism of the Reformation's classification of justification as ‘the lord, ruler, and judge’ of theology. For the reformers, however, this designation is not so much a claim about the centrality of the vocabulary of justification as it is a claim about the grammar of the gospel: justification, because it is articulated as an antithesis, says both what the gospel is not and what the gospel is. With this understanding of the theological function of justification in view, the role of justification in Paul's letter to the Galatians can be reconsidered: the antithetical grammar of justification is a critical and hermeneutical criterion in Galatians, both identifying and negating the ‘other gospel’ even as it picks out and proclaims ‘the gospel of Christ’.

Throughout his life, Augustine faced the charge that, despite his apparent conversion to the orthodox Christian faith of the Catholic Church, his thought nonetheless retained vestiges of his roughly ten-year sojourn with the Manichees. No one was more relentless in this accusation than Augustine's Pelagian nemesis of his twilight years, Julian of Eclanum. Throughout most of church history, Augustine's reputation was little troubled by these allegations of crypto-Manichaeism. However, over the last century or so, the charge has once again taken on life. This article begins with a brief orientation to some of the main philosophical and theological tenets of Manichaeism, with an emphasis on those elements that will be important for assessing the Augustine question. Next, the history of the accusation that the Christian Augustine remained, in important if unconscious ways, a crypto-Manichaean will be traced from the time of Augustine to the present. Finally, one methodological direction in which an eventual resolution to this long-standing question may lie will be considered.

Studies of the Rahab story in Joshua illustrate how, as interpreters, we can read our interests and convictions into a text, allow it no room to protest that it did not have these interests or convictions, and give it no opportunity conversely to question the interests and convictions that we bring to it as interpreters. This raises the question whether we actually want to discover things from texts or whether we simply want to provide illustrations of and support for what we think already.

This paper is concerned with how we should understand the distinctive contribution of music to Christian worship. It considers two contrasting views that have powerfully influenced contemporary church music – the pursuit of musical excellence by highly competent performers on the one hand, and the adoption of simpler, popular and more inclusive musical forms on the other. This contrast is explored against the background of a biblical understanding of prayer and sacrifice, and in the light of some philosophical issues surrounding both the idea of divine service and the nature of music.

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.

The Apostolic Ministry is a volume of outstanding importance, as Professor Burleigh points out in his review, not only because of its wealth of learning but because in many respects it represents a change of front on the part of Anglicans in the realisation that it is ultimately upon theological grounds that a true conception of the ministry must rest. At the same time it cannot but be of extreme interest to the Reformed Churches in that it approaches their view that the ministry is creative of the Church. Nevertheless the precise interpretation given to that doctrine in these pages throws out a real challenge to the Reformed Churches which must be taken seriously, particularly as it has been thrown out in view of the widespread movement for re-union. I have no hesitation, therefore, in adding to the excellent review above a further discussion particularly of the more theological issues raised.

At the very outset something must be said about the methods employed by the various scholars who contribute to this book. It is refreshing to find here the combination of biblical and historical research with dogmatic construction or reconstruction. That is a method of investigation which I, for one, welcome, as being a great advance even upon the impartial scholarly method of men like Lightfoot, Hort, and Swete, and I find myself in definite agreement with them against many of their predecessors in this field in their insistence that, apart from a doctrine of the ministry, no real progress can be made through the criss-cross tradition of Church history on this subject.

How does one properly account for the rise of theological ferment in the Third World, when so much of the theological activity in that region is so closely related to what happens (or fails to happen) in the First World? To what extent can the decisions of the Second Vatican Council, or the programs of the World Council of Churches, or the initiatives of the Mission Boards in North America, be given credit for the emergence of Third World theologies? Or how do we explain the paradox that in spite of two decades in the growth and development of local theologies in the Third World, much of the way in which Third World churches conduct their business and their worship still fails to reflect such developments? Who sets the priorities for theology in the Third World? What is the procedure for its validation and official acceptance? When does the local church know that it is safe to shift from the received tradition to the new tradition? All these are questions of farreaching significance, for they bear on the very heart of authentic Christianity as it is proclaimed and practised in the Third World. Third World Christians must determine for themselves when and how they will theologize in their own language, in which they were born (Acts 2.8). Third World theologians have stepped out in front and have taken some initiatives for themselves, and among themselves.

Few people in our time have been more deeply concerned with thinking into each other again the inner substance of the evangelical and catholic emphases in the Church of Jesus Christ, than Oscar Cullmann. This has been especially evident in the way in which he has consistently sought to penetrate into the essential harmony of the Gospel that not only underlies the whole history of the Church but underpins the divisions between the Evangelical Churches and the Roman Catholic Church, bringing his unusually fresh understanding of the NT and the Early Church to bear constructively upon the areas of discord and friction, not least in respect of the concept of the Papacy. His many writings reveal unparalleled sensitivity and appreciation for the centrality of the biblical message, the sanctity of tradition and the continuity of worship in the redeemed life of the people of God, which have allowed him to bring together, without compromise, the concentration upon the core of the Gospel which has characterised the Evangelical Churches and the universal task and unifying order which have characterised the Catholic Churches.

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.

The Hebrews had an ineradicably “whole” view of life and the universe. We Westerners, whose educational system rests upon the assumption of the “Greeks” that matter and spirit are separate entities, find it hard to think as the Old Testament thinks. Plato was not the first of the philosophers to dissociate the realm of ideas from the realm of things, since some of the Ionian philosophers before him had already conceived that truth is the truth of propositions. One result of such a dichotomy was the conception that matter or things are not so important or even so real as are ideas; it is the study of the world of ideas, or of the world of spiritual values, which primarily leads mankind to a knowledge of God.

Not far below the surface of most modern theological dispute lies the question of the interrelationship of theology and culture. How shall those who take their intellectual orientation from the Christian Gospel understand their position in relation to the intellectual currents that represent the spirit of the age? Should the stance be that of Tertullian, Eusebius, or Augustine; Kierkegaard, Barth, or Tillich; or of some variation and combination of these and others? One of the many ramifications of this complex area of inquiry concerns the relationship of the Christian community to the institutions of the society and the world in which it carries on its life, as is well illustrated by recent controversy over the aims and methods of the W.C.C. Programme to Combat Racism. Here, of course, are obvious, if highly complex, moral and practical issues. But underlying them is a further theoretical and theological question: What is Christianity? In this paper, I should like to suggest that both the theological and the ethical problems can be illuminated by an examination of the interrelationship between conceptions of the person of Christ and the church's understanding of its relation to earthly rulers.

It is often enough averred that Calvin developed his doctrine of predestination in order to reassure believers of their status before God; it is even more often asserted that the overall effect of his teaching was eventually to subvert that assurance, or at any rate to turn it into a form of self-absorption that has an effect contrary to that for which the gospel frees us. Self-absorption is indeed among the besetting sins of Western Christianity, from Augustine onward. In each era, it takes characteristic form. In our day, it is among the prime dangers of the post-Constantinian Church, which, deprived, apparently, of once secure social and political status and role; diminished, apparendy, in numbers and influence, flounders variously in inaction, activism and political correctness in a sometimes desperate concern not to lose the attention of the—reprobate? In this paper, I propose to bring together the related themes of election and ecclesiology, with particular reference to the beleaguered situation of the Christian Church in a world which, as Robert Jenson has observed, is unique in being the first once apparently believing culture to have abandoned the Christian gospel. That throws into the limelight the problem of the, if not everywhere minority status, at least unique situation for the Church of rejection by the main streams of intellectual and cultural life.

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.

There is a renewed interest in the relations between the Eastern and Western parts of the Church; and some have been surprised at the affinities of thought between the two. In a study of the Atonement in Gregory of Nyssa, the following examination was made of the meanings of the word Grace in his writings. It may be of interest to others who are working towards a closer understanding of the thought of the Eastern Fathers.

I. From God's side

(a) Grace may be used to point to the general attitude of kindly favour that God displayed to all creation and to mankind in particular. Verb and noun are both employed to indicate the distinction between man and all other animals, over whom he was given a royal authority. The potentiality in man for both good and evil is greater than in any other part of the universe. (b) This Fatherly care did not cease at creation, but is visible throughout the Old Testament history. It was present at Sinai; and spoke freely and often through the prophets, as when, under Ahab and Jezebel, Elijah fought single-handed against the prophets of Baal; and we even have the phrase reminding us of the Pauline charisma. Gregory often speaks of the Grace of God, much more commonly in fact than of His love.

It is traditional in large sectors of the christian church to separate the word of god into law and gospel. The law is that part of the word which tells man what god wishes him to do. The gospel is that part of the word which tells man what god has done for him. The lutheran confessions insist, and i believe correctly, that one of the chief requisites of a theologian is the ability rightly to divide the word into its components of law and gospel and rightly to use them. one of the problems which arises in this connexion is which should take chronological order in the proclaiming of the word. it is usual to say that the law should be proclaimed first in order to convince man that he is a sinner and that then the gospel is to be proclaimed so that he may not despair of his sin but, on the contrary, be comforted by the message that the lord is gracious to repentant sinners and saves them. The purpose of this paper is to question the efficacy of this procedure.

There has been a growing interest in recent years in the question of meaning as it relates to liturgical performance. There is a long tradition within liturgical writing of deriving some kind of theological meaning for the liturgy from the content of the text that is used. More recently, however, this understanding of ‘meaning’ has been considered too limiting. It treats the liturgy as a literary/theological text and ignores the fact that the liturgical text is only one small part of a much wider act of worship. Bridget Nichols, for example, in her book Liturgical Hermeneutics: Interpreting Liturgical Rites in Performance suggests that the traditional theological/literary meaning is misleading. The liturgical text is designed to be performed, it comes into existence in performance, and outside of that performance, it is nothing. Kieren Flanagan also claimed to address the question of meaning and performance in his book on Sociology and Liturgy: Re-presentations of the Holy. Nichols rejected this approach, however, because of what she claims is Flanagan's particular misreading of Hans-Georg Gadamer's writing on ‘play’. This led Flanagan to suggest that there is only one single ‘unitary’ meaning in liturgy which is constantly renewed in each and every act of worship. Joyce Ann Zimmerman has written a book entitled Liturgy as Language of Faith: A Liturgical Methodology in the Mode of Paul Ricoeur's Textual Hermeneutics but this also ignores the performative aspect of liturgy and, like Flanagan, asserts a definitive meaning for the text.