Gospel Story Research Articles

Liberation and Imagination

The theological task in North America is not the correlation of faith and world or the appropriation of creedal concepts, but the effort to show how the gospel story itself functions as the model of theology. Opening this dimension for the imagination of faith is our primary challenge.

On Giving Works of Art a Face

The remarks that critics make about works of art are various in character. Some of them are strictly interpretative—for instance, The Lord of the Rings may be claimed to be an allegorical representation of the Gospel Story; the slow movement of a symphony may be said to express a period of calm after a revolution; a painting may be said to depict the horrors of war. Some may be biographical—that the play was written in 1654, that the poem was written while the poet was in love, that the sculpture was commissioned by the Canada Council. Some may be autobiographical—that the 7th has always been one's favourite Beethoven symphony, that one identifies with Joe in Room at the Top, that Medea was the first tragedy one saw performed in the original Greek. Some are ‘descriptive’ in the philosopher's sense, ‘matters of fact’—that the narrator is a senior civil servant, that the painting is all in pastel colours, that the conductor has not played all the repetitions. Some invoke formal structural principles—that the doors are in classical proportions, that the work's catastrophe is deferred to the finale, that the poem is in iambic pentameters. Some are concerned with the exposition of technique—that the spaciousness is suggested by the use of open fifths, that speed is portrayed by making the moving object sharper than anything else in the picture, that the effect of a sculpture is achieved by the use of metallurgically distinct materials. I wish to concentrate on a type of remark found frequently in art criticism, which defies reduction to any of the kinds mentioned above. The following are typical instances:That picture will not, at the first glance, deceive as a piece of actual sunlight; but this is because there is more in it than the sunlight, because under the glazing veil of vaulted fire which lights the vessel on her last path, there is a blue deep, desolate hollow of darkness, out of which you can hear the voice of the night wind, and the dull boom of the disturbed sea; because the cold deadly shadows of twilight are gathering through every sunbeam, and moment by moment as you look, you will fancy some new film and faintness of the night has risen over the vastness of the departing form (Ruskin, on Turner's The Fighting Temeraire).

Doxology as Suspension of the Tragic

“The suspension of tragedy is accomplished by what appears in our midst as a presence of more significance, a ‘weight of glory’ that shifts the balance in the human drama. The ‘comic sense of life,’ as we may term it, sees things as caught up in a wider horizon, weighted toward gospel. Just as in classical drama the moment of recognition provides a shift in orientation, so the gospel story tells of a hidden God and the surprising joy he proves to be when recognized. This sort of cognition contributes to a kind of ‘comic epistemology,’ sadly missing from classical theism.”

Reading and Viewing Words in Fra Angelico’s Typological Paintings

In medieval art, there are numerous examples of pictorial programmes composed according to a system of typological opposition between scenes from the Old and the New Testaments, in which scenes from the New are seen as the typological fulfillment of prophecies from the Old. Normally, scenes from both Testaments are juxtaposed, so that the fulfillment under Christ can be seen together with the scene that prefigures it. In the works of the Florentine painter Fra Angelico, this system is softened. His series of 36 small panels from the Armadio degli argenti, now in the Museo di San Marco (Florence), is apparently a quite conventional representation of “highlights” from the Gospel story. However, the inscriptions that accompany each panel reveal a typological scheme at heart of the pictorial programme. This paper studies the compositional and expressive devices applied in Fra Angelico’s subtle rendering of well-established theological concepts. Further, the paper argues that the same devices appear in a group of paintings of the Annunciation which can be attributed to Fra Angelico or his school.

Inscriptions and Interactions: Text and Image on the Cloisters Cross and other Ivories

According to the Gospel narratives, a sign of identification was posted on the cross above Christ’s head at the Crucifixion, following Roman custom. The biblical passage in John 19: 19-22 and its exegesis concerning the circumstances of the titulus provides a concise commentary on the Christian use of inscription. The Cross’s inscription is described as multilingual and disputed from the moment of its production, but it also authoritatively affirmed by the Bible passage itself. As it grew in importance in the Middle Ages, the supposedly preserved object and text became a relic testifying to the veracity of the events of the Crucifixion. Of particular interest is the way in which the ironic phrase “King of the Jews,” not only fails to match the image of the abjected crucified man it inscribes but thereby comes to represent a higher truth also inherent in the Gospel story. This essay discusses these issues as they are realized on the ivory Cloisters Cross in New York City and then contrasts this highly self-conscious use of inscription to other texts on Romanesque ivories.

The book of Zechariah and the Passion narrative

It is widely recognized that the narrative of the last few days of the life of Jesus was the earliest part of the Gospel story to take shape as a connected whole. There were many reasons why this should be so. For one thing, the events of those days must have been indelibly impressed on the memory of those men and women who spent them in Jesus’ company. When they came together for fellowship and worship they would recall the days that led up to the crucifixion, and the days that followed it; and others who had not been present at the time would be eager to hear the details. This was especially true of those occasions when Christians took the bread and wine of thanksgiving as their Master’s memorial: “as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup”, said Paul, “you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes” (1 Cor. xi. 26)―words which appear to mean not simply that participation in the Lord’s Supper was in itself an acted proclamation of His death, but that every such participation was regularly accompanied by a repetition of the passion narrative. In this way even recent converts to the new faith must soon have become tolerably word-perfect in their ability to tell the story.

Novels on the Life of Jesus

M ANY people gain information-or misinformation--on the life of Jesus from novels. The popularity of these books is shown in the publication within the last ten years of more than a dozen, some of which have become best sellers. At the present writing The Robe appears in its fifty-fifth impression, and The Big Fisherman has sold over 400,000 copies. The books listed at the end of this article vary in literary merit and in accuracy in their portrayal of the characters, the scenes, and the background of the gospel. Some, notably The Nazarene, present a wealth of information on Jewish thought and custom in New Testament times. Others, such as The Emperor's Physician, reflect the problems and the customs of twentieth-century America. Properly used, and frequently checked against the gospel records, these books may be very helpful in individual or class study. The technique in writing a novel on the life of Jesus is to create a story that might be true, to describe historical events and add imaginary events, but not to create situations contrary to history. An exception to this rule is seen in The Big Fisherman, where Herod Antipas is assassinated shortly after the crucifixion,' although as a matter of history Herod lived several years longer and died in banishment. A critical reader will find himself asking often: Is this situation in harmony with the gospels? Could this incident have happened within the framework of the gospel story? An early acquaintance between the boy Jesus and James and John, who may have been his cousins,2 is probable. A visit to the home in Nazareth, when the disciples had opportunity to talk with Mary3 is possible, for somehow somebody heard her story of the early years. It is quite possible that Jesus spent winter months in Capernaum, quietly working at his trade.4 A retreat in the wilderness shortly before the end is not forbidden by the gospel chronology, but the Maccabean fortress with its secret entrance and secluded valley described in The Emperor's Physician must be attributed to the author's imagination. These stories remind us of how little, actually, we know of the activity of Jesus and his associates. We are not at all sure of the order in which events happened, and there are great gaps in chronology between the beginning and the end of the ministry. Characters for the novels are created by building up the lesser known characters of the gospels. How the same character is differently conceived in different stories may be illustrated by Barabbas. The record states that he was a prisoner, condemned for insurrection and murder.6 In the stories he becomes a revolutionist, plotting to overthrow Herod and the Roman government-a foil to Jesus. He is pictured as a patriotic Jew, who robs the rich and gives to the poor, and in some stories he believes himself to be Messiah. The end result for him and his movement is the same whether he is described as driven by evil motives6 or as using evil means for good ends.' One story makes him a handsome, dashing young man,8 while another traces his anti-social tendencies to the disfigurement of an ugly birthmark.' Two disciples-Judas and Simon the Zealotare variously used to tie his movement to that of Jesus. Others who are scarcely more than names in the gospels and are blown up into characters in the novels are Joseph of Arimathea, Nicodemus, Jairus, Chuza and his wife Joanna, Malchus, and Rufus. Figures that appear in * WILLIAM R. LOCKE has served pastorates in the Methodist Church in New Hampshire and Ohio and has taught in Allegheny College, Mount Union College, Lake Erie College, and, as of this fall, High Point College, High Point, N. C. The material in this article was delivered in a series of lectures at the Community School of Religion in Willoughby, Ohio.

The Principle of Coherence in the Gospel Story. (Continued.)

The Principle of Coherence in the Gospel Story. (Continued.)

The Principle of Coherence in the Gospel Story

The Principle of Coherence in the Gospel Story

Sedes Sapientiæ

Nothing is more beautiful than the way in which the Church has drawn from the few light touches and scattered references in the Gospel story, the perfect image of Mary. The world leaves to theologians the study of those prerogatives which exalt Our Lady as the co-redeemer of mankind and give to her a share in the distribution of graces. All must agree in their admiration of the Catholic type of the Virgin Mother, in whom we recognize the supreme ideal of the superlatively perfect woman; yet with all our marvelling love, we fall short of complete understanding of her excelling dignity. Still, with all our limitations and without going beyond the simple Gospel narrative, we can find in Mary’s character features of stupendous beauty. We should like to show here how the Gospel reveals her as a perfect type of wisdom.Wisdom is the most excellent of the intellectual virtues. Its object is the consideration of the highest causes, and the most sublime aspects of things. It is a certain participation in the infinite and eternal Wisdom. St. Thomas observes that it judges and sets in order all the other virtues: for Christians, wisdom is a guiding principle of life, while for the pagan philosophers it was only a speculative power. Now, Our Lady was in a special way united to the Divine Wisdom; she is the mother and the spouse of the Eternal Wisdom: so the Gospel teaches.

Negroes as Christian Ministers

The Negro preachers and their churches arose as a result of the Great Awakening' when people lost complete control of themselves and shouted and swooned because their sins were forgiven. Denominations were divided respecting the intense and repeated revivals which continued periodically in America for about one hundred years. The Episcopalians denounced them, and the Unitarians arose in protest from the Congregationalists. Notwithstanding, it was clear that only those Christians who were warmly evangelical, like the Baptists and the Methodists, could hope to influence the masses of the people, including the Negroes. White people did not continue to be extreme emotionalists, for during the revivals the majority of the American colleges were established for them in order that the gospel story might be told intelligently. Exciting religion became orthodox among Negro Christians, who had no colleges; and when they were permitted to secure the means of edification, they refused.2 Despite such a background there stood out from the ranks of the Negro exhorters ministers who were able to make a contribution to the religious life of the time. From the first they made Negroes race conscious. The earliest Negro organization was a

Book Review: The Gospel Story of Jesus

Book Review: The Gospel Story of Jesus

Book Review: The Gospel Story in Art

Book Review: The Gospel Story in Art

Book Review: The Gospel Story in Art

Book Review: The Gospel Story in Art

M. Loisy and the Gospel Story

M. Loisy and the Gospel Story

Book Reviews

THE author observes that the many-sided investigations of ethnologists do not seem to have included a study of the way in which Christianity has been received by different races. The problem suggested is undoubtedly an interesting one, but the present volume does not do much to solve it, being mainly made up of a series of anecdotes which go to show that the Gospel, in the form in which it is set forth by Protestant missionaries of the Evangelical school, has found a response in the hearts of individuals, of almost every known race. It is reasonable to infer from this that the particular type of Christianity to which Mr. Pattison confines his attention contains motives that appeal to men in almost every stage of social development and culture. But so far as one can judge from the anecdotes, which are not chosen with a view to facilitating scientific analysis, it seems probable that in every case the really effective element in the missionary teaching lay in the Gospel story itself, not in the dogmatic construction built on it by missionaries of a particular school. At any rate, it is plain that no discussion of the problem which Mr. Pattison deals with can claim to be of scientific value so long as it deals only with the reception given to one form of Christian teaching. Nor is it enough to know that individuals of almost every race are capable of becoming sincere Christians of a particular school: the ethnologist, from his point of view, is much less concerned with individuals than with masses. A serious inquiry into the fitness of Christianity to become the religion of societies that have not come under the influence of the civilization of the Roman Empire would be extremely useful, but such an inquiry cannot be made to any purpose if one starts by identifying Christianity with one of its local and particular types.