Christian Life Research Articles

How Did We Get Here? Reflections towards a Philosophy of the Present

How Did We Get Here? Reflections towards a Philosophy of the Present Philipp W Rosemann Explaining the present has always been one of the preoccupations of philosophy, and of modern philosophy in particular. Kant, in his celebrated essay, ‘What is Enlightenment?’; Hegel in his speculative metaphysics of history; Nietzsche in his declaration that ‘God is dead’; Heidegger in his reflections on ‘the end of philosophy and the task of thinking’ – all these philosophers, and others, have attempted to offer an account of their present conditions. This essay takes up the same task, but with the precise goal of shedding light upon the intellectual substructure (one could say) of Irish life in the 2020s. This essay will not talk about the state of the Irish Church, at least not centrally. A lot has been said about this question by writers far more qualified than myself.1 Nevertheless, my remarks will, I hope, help elucidate what the fundamental challenges are that the Christian faith faces in the intellectual constellation of our day. I am going to suggest that the present is, in fact, still deeply Christian, because Christianity has undermined itself from within. The present is, in essence, a Christian heresy.2 *** Christian life has a characteristic temporal structure. While our Jewish ancestors are still waiting for the Messiah, for Christians he has arrived, in the person of Jesus Christ, Son of God. The Kingdom is already here – but only inchoately, as we await the Second Coming where all that we now see but ‘through a glass darkly’ (1 Cor 13:12) will reveal itself in its fulness. The Christian present, then, combines the realisation of a past promise – God’s covenant with the people of Israel – with the expectation of an even more glorious future. Furthermore, that future is, in some sense, a return to the past (namely, to the harmonious communion with God in paradise); yet it will be a fuller version of that past, a version enriched by God’s history How Did We Get Here? Reflections towards a Philosophy of the Present Studies • volume 110 • number 439 279 with his people. Most notably, this history includes the Incarnation, of which the Eucharistic celebration is our most palpable daily reminder. It is through constant ‘repetition’ of the past – the Eucharist, but also the reading of the Psalms in the Divine Office – that we move into the future. And again: that future is here already – the body of Christ is real – while its pleroma still awaits. Christian temporality can be distorted in two ways. For a long time, the tradition focused on the risk of slipping back, so to speak, into Judaism, by not embracing the New Testament as the fulfilment of the Old, by emphasising law over spirit, works over faith. For this tendency, the New Testament even invented a term, ‘to Judaise’, which occurs, just once, in the context of the ‘incident at Antioch’ where Paul clashed with Peter (Gal 2:14). While ‘Judaising’ may be a risk to the integrity of the Christian faith, the critique of this risk became the point of departure for a highly problematic current of anti-Judaism within the Christian tradition – a forerunner to modern antisemitism .3 Just as Christian temporality can be distorted in relation to the past, so its specific rhythm can be misunderstood by a misconception of the future. One could say that the Christian future, properly understood, reaches into the present, but does not coincide with it. St Paul conveys this point beautifully by his use of the phrase ‘as though not’, hōs mē (1 Cor 7:29–31; NRSV): 29 I mean, brothers and sisters, the appointed time has grown short; from now on, let even those who have wives be as though they had none, 30 and those who mourn as though they were not mourning, and those who rejoice as though they were not rejoicing, and those who buy as though they had no possessions, 31 and those who deal with the world as though they had no dealings with it. For the present form of this world is passing away. Paul’s ‘as though’ or ‘as if’ suspends our life in the present...

1 & 2 Chronicles by Paul L. Redditt

Reviewed by: 1 & 2 Chroniclesby Paul L. Redditt Shuichi Hasegawa paul l. redditt, 1 & 2 Chronicles( Smyth & Helwys Bible Commentary; Macon, GA: Smyth & Helwys, 2020). Pp. xxiv + 492 CD. $65. This new addition to the Smyth & Helwys Bible Commentary series features abundant visual materials and a CD-ROM that includes text and images in searchable PDF format. This series is aimed at "bridging the gap between the insights of biblical scholars and the needs of students of God's written word" and bringing "insightful commentary to bear on the lives of contemporary Christians" (p. xvii). Indeed, the core of the book is centered on these goals, most conspicuously in the sections titled "Connections." The editors of this series summarized the methodology employed in the series as follows: "The basic focus is the biblical text itself, and considerable attention is given to the wording and structure of texts. Each particular text, however, is also considered in the light of the entire canon of Christian Scriptures" (p. xviii). Moreover, the editors write, "Information from archaeology, ancient history, geography, comparative literature, history of religions, politics, sociology, and even economics is used to illuminate the culture of the people who produced the Bible" (p. xviii). [End Page 683] Paul L. Redditt, the author of the book under review and an editor for this series, states, "It is the task of modern, believing readers to read Chronicles in the context of its background, to see how it spoke to its intended audience, what there might be of enduring value in that interchange, and then to see how that might apply to modern lives" (p. 27). Hence, the author's task is to carry out such a reading. To achieve this task, R. frequently refers to a variety of primarily English-language scholarly works. In "The Purposes of Chronicles" in the introduction, R. tackles the important question of why Chronicles was written (esp. 14–18). In his explanation, R. highlights the socio-historical and theological milieu of Yehud, which he describes as a postexilic community located in and around Jerusalem in the fourth century b.c.e., the period during which Chronicles was composed. Redditt briefly expresses his opinion regarding the historical authenticity of Chronicles in the section entitled "The Historical Reliability of Chronicles" in the introduction, writing, "[S]aying that an event or act is not historically provable does not mean that a narrative of such an event is wrong, only that it is not 'historical' in a historian's sense of the term" (p. 27). According to R., therefore, "[t]he reader is left to determine the account's accuracy, meaning, and purpose without recourse to an appeal to its historicity" (p. 27). In the subsequent commentary, R. demonstrates such a method when accounting for the discrepancies between Chronicles and its main source, Genesis through Kings. For example, when dealing with the question of the historical authenticity of the account of Manasseh garrisoning in the fortified cities in Judah (2 Chr 33:14), R. states that "moderns rarely can prove that something did not happen in ancient times, so the reader can only note what the Chronicler said" (p. 418). In this way, the author seems content to forgo investigating the historical accuracy of the information missing in Kings. Surprisingly, the author neglects to discuss the issue from an archaeological perspective. This is all the more surprising considering that he sometimes consults archaeological research to support his textual analyses (e.g., p. 425). Manasseh's exile to Assyria and subsequent return are another such example. This event is mentioned exclusively in Chronicles (2 Chr 33:11–13). While recognizing the lack of historical evidence regarding this event, the author notes that "there is nothing inherently impossible about [it]" (p. 418). In other places, however, the author explains discrepancies between Chronicles and the source material as artifacts of the "retelling" or modification of the source by the Chronicler. For example, Chronicles lacks the negative episodes of David narrated in Samuel–Kings. Redditt does not specify his criteria for determining historicity. When discrepancies between Chronicles and the source material are discovered, readers will intuitively ask themselves which account is historically more accurate and why the...

What Is Not Saved Is Not Assumed: Thomas Weinandy, Julian of Eclanum, and Augustine of Hippo on Whether Salvation Requires Christ's Temptations to Sin

What Is Not Saved Is Not Assumed:Thomas Weinandy, Julian of Eclanum, and Augustine of Hippo on Whether Salvation Requires Christ's Temptations to Sin Joshua Evans Toward the end of the last book he ever wrote, Augustine of Hippo asks a crucial question that should resonate in today's Christological debates: "Did … that assumption of a human nature which made God and man one person contribute nothing to that man toward the excellence of the righteousness which you say he had from voluntary action?"1 While the question was originally put to Julian of Eclanum, Augustine's Pelagian archenemy, the question continues to be relevant, in large part because a number of theologians today adopt the same Christological principle advanced by Julian: "A different nature could not furnish an example. … Remove the basis of the example, and the basis of the price which he became for us will also be removed."2 That is, according to both Julian and a number of theologians today, if Jesus had a human nature that was importantly different from our nature, then he was not truly human and we are not truly saved. Recently, some theologians have framed the issue in a quasi-Augustinian manner by arguing that Jesus possessed fallen human nature. While there [End Page 563] are certainly a number of concerns motivating this trend in Christology, the primary concern is soteriological. The guiding star here is Gregory Nazianzen's principle, "what is not assumed is not saved."3 As Gregory argues, "if only half Adam fell, then that which Christ assumes and saves may be half also; but if the whole of his nature fell, it must be united to the whole nature of Him that was begotten, and so be saved as a whole."4 Those who say Jesus had a fallen human nature are concerned above all to establish that Jesus truly took on our human nature. According to this viewpoint, if Christ did not assume our fallen human nature, then we who inhabit that nature are not saved. One of today's most notable advocates of the claim that Jesus possessed fallen human nature is Father Thomas Weinandy, who advances the following thesis: "Our salvation is unconditionally dependent upon the Son's assuming a humanity disfigured by sin and freely acting as a son of Adam."5 One of the major soteriological concerns of thinkers like Weinandy has to do with Jesus's role as moral exemplar for the rest of us. Traditional Christology, which suggests Jesus had an importantly different kind of human nature from ours, leads to the following troubling questions: "How could one possibly follow an example set by God? Surely God is able to do what God does because he has powers that far exceed our own. How then could what God does as a precondition to becoming incarnate possibly be imitated by human beings?"6 The advocates of Christ's fallen human nature seek to avoid the apparent moral divisions between Jesus and us that are built into traditional Christology. According to these advocates, if we [End Page 564] attribute Christ's perfect life to his divinely human personhood, then he would not be truly human and we would not be truly saved. These thinkers rightly recognize that Christology and soteriology stand or fall together. Unlike the ancient Christological debates, there is essentially unanimous agreement today that Christ assumed many elements of what we call fallen human nature: Christ clearly had the ability to undergo hunger, pain, suffering, and death, though he never committed any actual sins. What is in dispute, however, is how we account for Christ's avoidance of personal, actual sins. Was the human nature of Jesus just like ours, so that Jesus had to actively work to avoid sins just like we do? Or, was the human nature of Jesus importantly different from ours, so that Jesus had the kind of human nature that was unable to sin? The issue of what accounts for Jesus's ability to avoid sins is a major source of division today in debates over the character of Christ's human nature. Oliver Crisp has helpfully identified two rival sides in the...

Luther's Treatise on Christian Freedom and Its Legacy by Robert Kolb

Reviewed by: Luther's Treatise on Christian Freedom and Its Legacy by Robert Kolb Mark D. Tranvik Luther's Treatise on Christian Freedom and Its Legacy. By Robert Kolb. Lanham: Lexington Books/Fortress Academic, 2020. 161 pp. As readers of this journal know, in the world of Luther scholarship we are celebrating a series of 500th anniversaries. The Ninety-five Theses made a big splash in 2017. In 2020 several significant Luther texts were highlighted. None is more important than On Christian Freedom (1520) where Luther laid out for common people an elegant outline of his theology. We are indebted to the prolific Robert Kolb for a book that does an admirable job of placing this key work in context, summarizing its contents, and tracing its influence in the past five centuries. The book is divided into three separate sections. In the first part Kolb provides a nuanced and balanced summary of Luther's life. He is careful to describe the theological and political context and stresses the importance of the community surrounding Luther, thus avoiding the temptation of treating him simply as a heroic individual. The second section is the heart of the book and consists of a careful commentary on the texts (both Latin and German) of On Christian Freedom. Kolb carefully explores the thesis that frames the argument of the treatise—a Christian is at the same time free in faith and bound in love to the neighbor. Particularly helpful is Kolb's insistence that Luther's understanding of freedom still connects with people today and is not merely an artifact of the Reformation (36–38). Preachers and teachers will want to pay special attention to the way "the great exchange" between Christ and the sinner is unpacked. Luther's use of striking images and language to convey the depth of God's love for the unlovable can stimulate the [End Page 242] imaginations of those charged with proclaiming the gospel today (52–54). Finally, Kolb makes clear that Luther's understanding of freedom is anything but "empty" or merely something that resides within the believer. Christian liberty is for the sake of the neighbor. And the word "neighbor" is not some sort of abstraction for Luther. God's Word resonates in our daily lives through our vocations. We are always in some sort of earthly relationship. The good news is actually incarnated in our lives as family members, citizens, workers, and church members (74–79). The last section considers the impact of Luther's writing. Kolb notes that the reception of the treatise has varied. Some have seen it as a dangerous step toward antinomianism. Perhaps most surprising is the way the text has been noted but mostly ignored, particularly from the immediate post-Reformation era until the time of the modern Luther renaissance, when it has received much more attention. It might be noted that Kolb did miss the extensive comments on Christian freedom in John Calvin's Institutes. More attention to the Reformed perspective and its concern for discipline might have added a helpful dimension. Overall, this book is vintage Robert Kolb. It contains careful historical scholarship combined with a pastoral desire to make the insights of On Christian Freedom relevant to the lives of Christians today. We can be thankful that he continues to inform the faith with grace and erudition. Mark D. Tranvik Luther Seminary Saint Paul, Minnesota Copyright © 2021 Johns Hopkins University Press and Lutheran Quarterly, Inc.

Imitating Christ and the Saints: Katrin Gebbe’s Tore tanzt/Nothing Bad Can Happen (DE 2013) as Hagiographic Narration

Erwin Panofsky already pointed to the fact that the then fairly new medium of film relied on the Western iconographic tradition and created iconographic conventions of its own. Therefore, it is not surprising that film makers exploited the visual and narrative treasures of the Christian hagiographic tradition on the movie screen throughout the medium’s history. They did not only re-tell the life of Christ and the saints, but also created new plots following and re-interpreting the established conventions of hagiographic genres. Furthermore, the citation and adaptation of Christian iconographies is even used to render protagonists more complex and to regulate the viewer’s emotional response. The present article analyses Katrin Gebbe’s film Tore tanzt/Nothing Bad Can Happen (DE 2013) as an example of how biblical and hagiographic traditions are used in contemporary cinema to critically discuss religious mind-sets and the social dynamics of violent family structures. The director does not simply model the protagonist of her film as a modern day Christ who sacrifices himself for others, but clearly characterises Tore through references to other saints and biblical figures among whom Saint Francis, the alter Christus of the 13th century, is of major importance. Around this core idea, Gebbe creates a dense visual texture of hagiographic signs and allusions contradicting and enforcing one another so that the viewer’s uncertainty grows as to how to judge the events on screen.

Beyond Human Grasp. The Funeral of the Virgin on the “Wirksworth Stone” (Derbyshire)

The lid of an Anglo-Saxon burial found in St Mary the Virgin at Wirksworth (Derbyshire, England) displays scenes of the life of Christ and the Virgin Mary that reflect a hope for eternal salvation; many of these scenes have eastern models. Going beyond a quest for iconographic models, however, this study examines the scenes featuring the Virgin, particularly her Funeral and Assumption, in the context of interchanging ideas, beliefs, and artifacts between the eastern Mediterranean Basin, continental Western Europe, and Anglo-Saxon Britain in the seventh and eighth centuries. This conjunction resulted in a funerary monument on which the Virgin’s supernatural transition from earth to heaven was memorialised despite being underpinned only by current beliefs, rather than by Scripture or theology. Analysis of the scenes featuring the Virgin aims not only to contextualise them in the visual and religious cultures of the Mediterranean and beyond, but also - since they are the earliest in the West - to draw attention to their novelty. The connections with the eastern Mediterranean may also help to better define the stone’s chronology. Referring to the figure of the Jewish priest lying below the Virgin’s bier with hands “dried up” as a consequence of his sacrilege in attempting at overturn her body, the study contends that the scene of her Funeral is a vivid reminder that the mystery of her transition into heaven lies beyond human grasp and can only be apprehended through a mystical approach that transcends the senses.

Ambrose of Milan: How David matches and enriches the witness of Job

This paper examines the Interpellatio Job et Dauid, asking why Ambrose chose to bring the witness of these two biblical figures together to address the significance of the life of Christ for the Church of his time - whether in relation to the experience of adversity or to the place of material riches. These sermons were written some time after the basilica crisis in 386, but are not about that crisis. The plea of David is shown to enhance the plea of Job. Where Job is seen as having been tempted in his body, David is proposed as having been tempted in his soul. Job’s example prepares for Christ and that of David prefigures and celebrates Christ.

The unity of the divine and the human in Christ: The Chalcedonian definition and Paul Tillich’s Spirit Christology

The Christological disputes of the 6th–7th centuries (the polemics of Leontius of Byzantium with the Nestorians and Eutychians, and Maximus the Confessor with the monoenergistes/monothelites) showed that the Chalcedonian definition gives rise to a number of problems that cannot be solved within the framework of traditional theology: the unclear ontological status of human nature without a human hypostasis; the inconsistency of the ontological models underlying trinitology and Christology; the need to resort to an artificial interpretation of the gospel testimonies about Christ. However, the Chalcedonian definition is only one possible way to describe the unity of the divine and the human in Christ. The Christology of Paul Tillich is considered as an example of an alternative description in which the above problems do not arise. Tillich’s idea is to replace the traditional concept of the Logos incarnated in man with the concept of the Spirit of God transforming man. According to this view, God does not act on human nature without hypostasis, but on the hypostasis of man through its unifying center. During the earthly life of Christ, this effect occurred only in the hypostasis of Christ as man. And after (and thanks to) the death on the cross and the resurrection of Christ, it extends to all people.

At Once What Christ Is: The Deifying Poetry of Gerard Manley Hopkins

At Once What Christ IsThe Deifying Poetry of Gerard Manley Hopkins David Meconi SJ (bio) I. Introduction A robust theology of Christian deification can be found throughout the poetry of the English Jesuit Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844–89). Informing much of Hopkins's theistic imagery is his exhortation to his readers to become another Christ. What may sound like a daunting, if not heretical, claim has always been at the heart of the Christian faith in general and the core of Hopkins's spirituality in particular. Embedded in his most memorable pieces is a two-act drama wherein the Son of God becomes human as the curtain is raised, so that in the second act, we humans might become the sons and daughters of God. This is precisely what the best of the Christian Tradition taught to be the end and goal of the Christian life: not only to embrace God-made-flesh, but actually to continue his enfleshed presence in the world. If this were not somehow true, as St. Augustine of Hippo (354–430) put it, so much of sacred Scripture would be thrown into question: Now, however, I wonder if we shouldn't have a look at ourselves, if we shouldn't think about his body, because he is [End Page 116] also us (quia et nos ipse est). After all, if we weren't him, this wouldn't be true: When you did it for one of the least of mine, you did it for me (Mt 25:40). If we weren't him, this wouldn't be true: Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me? (Acts 9:4). So we too are him, because we are his organs, because we are his body, because he is our head, because the whole Christ is both head and body.1 There is no other way to makes sense of Christ's admonition to be "perfect as my heavenly Father is perfect" (Mt 5:48).2 This theology of deification was not only a consistent strand of thought running from the Fathers through the medieval doctors and into such contemporaries of Hopkins himself, such as Cardinal Newman (d. 1890) in his own beloved England or Matthias Scheeben (d. 1898) in Germany, it was a key evangelical principle embedded in Hopkins's own Jesuit training, evident most clearly in the Spiritual Exercises which he made every year of his religious life. The following article will therefore show how Hopkins drew from this ancient Christian soteriology of the "great exchange"—that God became human, so humans could become God—to inform his poetry's most central Christian imagery. Divided into two main sections, I first set out to appreciate the theology of divinization Hopkins would have been trained in through his post-Tridentine, Jesuit formation. Deification is not something normally associated with the Council of Trent (1545–63) and subsequent catechesis, nor is it readily found in the writings of Ignatius of Loyola (1491–1556), the founder of the Society of Jesus. Yet, thanks to a more concentrated academic focus today, scholars have uncovered how the reality of "becoming god" does in fact run through these centuries of the post-Reformation period. The second half of this study will then turn to Hopkins's own writings and lay out where and how he draws from this ancient theme in composing some of his more memorable lines. [End Page 117] II. Brief Biography Gerard Manley Hopkins was born in Stratford in Essex on July 28, 1844 and was the oldest of nine children. The Hopkins family was intellectually refined. His father was a London shipping insurer who also published poetry, and his mother enjoyed the best education her physician father (who himself was educated in poetry by John Keats as a young man) in London could have provided. The home was by all evidence full of literature, music, and a deep appreciation for art, especially the sketches and woodcarvings of Gerard's aunts Annie and Maria. At primary school Hopkins became friends with Ernest Hartley ("E.H." in his letters) Coleridge, the grandson of Samuel Taylor Coleridge, before going up to Balliol College (1863–67), where he would take first...

Bálint Sándor a boldoggá avatás küszöbén

This article explores the life of a lay person, Sándor Bálint (1904-1980), who lived an exemplary Christian life and whose process of beatification is currently underway. As a renowned professor and researcher of religious ethnography, a devoted politician, as well as a faithful Christian, Bálint served his country and every person he met with persistent and humble love. His life can be seen as a true realisation of the teaching of the Second Vatican Council concerning sainthood and the role of lay persons in the Church and society.

A Christian Response to Laws That Require Immoral Acts

A Christian Response to Laws That Require Immoral Acts John Makdisi Introduction In the parable of the rich young man (Matt 19:16–23),1 the young man asks Jesus what good he must do to gain eternal life, and Christ tells him to keep the commandments.2 The young man is not satisfied and tells Jesus that he has observed them, but still wants to know what he lacks. Jesus answers, “If you wish to be perfect, go, sell what you have and give to [the] poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me” (Matt 19:20–21). When this passage is read in light Christ’s Sermon on the Mount (Matt 5–7),3 it becomes clear that Christ calls each one of us to God [End Page 1147] by a conversion of heart through the grace of the Holy Spirit.4 Those who listen attentively to Christ’s word open themselves to becoming the blessed of the beatitudes, beginning with those blessed as the poor in spirit and proceeding with those who mourn, who are meek, who hunger and thirst for righteousness, who are merciful, who are clean of heart, who are peacemakers, and finishing with those who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness and for Christ.5 It is not easy to open our hearts to God when we enjoy worldly wealth, power and pleasures. The rich young man who observed the commandments went away sad after hearing Christ’s words, “for he had many possessions” (Matt 19:22). Yet, Christ calls each of us to “be perfect, just as your heavenly Father is perfect” (Matt 5:48). The challenge is particularly acute when laws in our nation require us to act immorally. Not only must we refuse to do the law’s bidding, but, as Christians, we are called to go beyond the “shalt not” of the commandments and strive for the “shall do” of the beatitudes. We face a twofold sacrifice—the pain inflicted on us by a law that we cannot obey in good conscience6 and the pain suffered by us [End Page 1148] in our efforts to bring love where there is hate.7 Christ calls us to this task when he says that if someone strikes us on the cheek we should turn the other one to him as well (Matt 5:39).8 We should be willing to suffer not only the blow of an immoral law but also the sacrifice of self to make the situation right. This article examines five cases which involve laws in our nation that presently require immoral action and then concludes with a sixth case in which the U.S. Supreme Court recently invalidated the application of such a law to a particular contract but left open a way still to use the law to impose immoral action. In each of the six cases, the article explains the evil of the law as a transgression of one of the commandments, which, if one is to remain moral, requires civil disobedience. It then explains how the person who follows the commandment and suffers the negative fallout from the consequences of civil disobedience nevertheless is called by Christ to go beyond and be perfect by following the beatitudes. Although more than one beatitude may be relevant in each case, this article examines only one, and a different one at that, for each case. The purpose of the article is to illustrate by these six examples how the beatitudes operate on a practical basis in the concrete circumstances of everyday life to satisfy Christ’s call to perfection.9 [End Page 1149] Before starting in, it is important to set the context of humility within which Christ calls us to live a Christian life. The first beatitude lays a foundation for all the others in this respect, as we can see when Christ calls the rich young man to give up his possessions and come follow him. Blessed are the poor in spirit. Before we can hope to follow Christ we must shed our undue attachment to possessions, power, and pleasures, which give rise to the pride of Adam.10...

Liturgical Mysticism by David Fagerberg

Reviewed by: Liturgical Mysticism by David Fagerberg Kevin D. Magas David Fagerberg Liturgical Mysticism Steubenville, OH: Emmaus Academic, 2019 xxi + 171 pages. Hardback. $29.95. Lambert Beauduin, one of the chief pioneers of the twentieth-century Liturgical Movement, believed that "[the] liturgy is theology, not scientifically expounded, but applied to the art of glorifying God and sanctifying souls."1 This deepened, "thickened" understanding of the theological dimensions of the liturgical act pioneered by the Liturgical Movement and crystallized in the conciliar Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy has been developed and enriched by the liturgical theologian David Fagerberg over the course of his career. Fagerberg's entire theological project has been dedicated to articulating the contours of liturgical theology understood as theologia prima, the "primary theology" of the Trinitarian life of God communicated, epiphanized, and opened up for our participation in the liturgical life of the Church. His most recent work, Liturgical Mysticism, brings cohesiveness and consistency to a liturgical vision Fagerberg began to develop over thirty years ago; as such, it can only be understood in light of his project as a whole. His first work, Theologia Prima (revised edition, 2003), sought to deepen our understanding of liturgical theology by thickening the meaning of both "liturgy" and "theology" and exploring how the lex orandi of the Church is the foundation for her lex credendi. He came to understand that the relationship between liturgy and theology required an appeal to the ascetical dimension of Christian life which "capacitates" one to participate in liturgy, understood by Fagerberg as the "perichoresis of the Trinity kenotically extended to [End Page 141] invite our synergistic ascent into deification" (xvi). He explores this theme at length in his work Liturgical Asceticism (2013) and applies this liturgical-ascetical vision to our daily life in the world in his Consecrating the World (2016). Liturgical mysticism, then, is interested in how this liturgical participation in divine life is applied to the soul. What happens in us when our personal liturgy synchronizes with the Son's self-offering to the Father in the power of the Spirit? Here Fagerberg is interested in the connections between the visible, sacramental rites of the liturgy and their invisible, mystical fruition in the life of the Christian. He offers, in his prologue, an eloquent thesis that ties together his previous work: "Liturgical Mysticism is the development of graces received in baptism; liturgical asceticism is the process which develops those graces; the product of those graces is a liturgical theologian who is enlightened. Liturgical mysticism wants to know what is done inside a person by the liturgy" (xviii–xix). Fagerberg's first chapter lays the methodological foundations for the idea of liturgical mysticism he is interested in pursuing. Readers familiar with Fagerberg's work will recognize the characteristic moves he makes near the beginnings of his works to define his terms and clear up misconceptions that arise when we treat certain theological terms in a "thin," reductionist way. Fagerberg's concept requires that liturgy be not merely the rubrics or external ceremonies but participation in divine life; mysticism must be understood not as the esoteric, enigmatic, or otherworldly, but the actualization of baptismal graces through transformative contact with the mysteries of Christ encountered in the liturgy. In short, the key to a proper hermeneutic for understanding Fagerberg is to understand how key terms are functioning in the "language game" he is playing (see Ludwig Wittgenstein). Chapters 2 and 3 attempt to purify our associations and images of the mystical life, moving the reader from a mysticism that is something rare, extraordinary, individualistic and for the "professional" (i.e., the monk in his cell) to an understanding that is corporate, ecclesial, and within the realm of the ordinary baptized Christian, precisely because it is the unfolding and flowering of sanctifying grace received in baptism as a seed (semen gloriae). Fagerberg elo-quently [End Page 142] describes this process as a "quickening," an animating, a "making alive" of baptismal grace. Notable here is Fagerberg's development of this theme using the works of Dominican spiritual theologians of the early twentieth century, such as Réginald Garrigou-Lagrange and Juan Arintero. While readers will encounter Fagerberg's characteristic...

Порядок благодати в опере Франсиса Пуленка «Диалоги кармелиток»

The article examines the space of spiritual meaning and the system of its organization in “Le dialogue des carmélites,” Francis Poulenc’s opera which discloses the subject of spiritual feats in Christ’s name. Poulenc characterized the peculiarities of the spiritual path from the Deadly Torment of the Christian nun Blanche, which turned out to be among the victims of the republican government and along with the other Carmelite sisters accepted a martyr’s death on the guillotine. The monastic life in spiritualibus of the opera’s main heroines is presented by the composer as an “ordinary perfect Christian life” (J. Omann). The author comes to the following conclusions: the projections of the universal conceptions of Christian philosophy of Catholicism into the basic part of the spiritual meaning of the opera “Le dialogue des carmélites” form the conception of the particularities of the artistic world of this musical composition; the episodes which reveal distinct varieties of mystical experience in the opera and the ascetic practice of monastic life function as the framework elements of the order of grace in the space of its spiritual meaning. In the opera “Le dialogue des carmélites” Poulenc’s perception of the mystery of grace is reflected par excellence. Keywords: Francis Poulenc, the opera “Le dialogue des carmélites,” spiritual feat, monastic life, martyrdom, mystery of grace.

Will’s Prosthesis

This essay thinks with the language of Disability Studies to develop a new understanding of the representation of Anima in Piers Plowman. Anima, I argue, represents a narrative and physiological prosthesis which supplements Will’s disability bodily, intellectually, and spiritually. Anima also exceeds conventional definitions of prosthesis as an extraordinary body himself. Finally, he enhances all Christian life, bringing into focus a new perspective on the poem’s theology: Christian salvation requires prosthesis.

Investigating the Holy Eucharist and the term ‘people of God’ according to the Eastern Orthodox Church

This article unpacks aspects of the Eucharist and how it is understood in various churches using a literature study methodology. It also looks at the notion of the “people of God’. The Greek word εὐχαριστία (eucharistia), means "thanksgiving", appears fifteen times in the New Testament and is a critical aspect of the Christian faith. The weekly celebration of the Eucharist on Sunday’s is an requisite activity of the Church because the Eucharist establishes the Church as the Body of Christ. The Eucharistic celebration is also known as the Divine Liturgy and is believed to impart the actual Body and Blood of Christ to the faithful. In the act of communion, the entire Church, those past, present, and even forthcoming are unified in eternity. It is the source of her life, the superlative act of her thanksgiving and of her sacrifice of praise to the creator God. The Holy Eucharist is the very core of Christian life, and the means by which each believer is nourished by God's grace and tender mercy. At the Divine Liturgy, the Church is continuously changed from a human community into the Body of Christ, the temple of the Holy Spirit, and the holy People of God.

Book Review: The end of Christian life. How embracing our mortality frees us to truly live

Acta Theologica is the official and accredited theological journal of the Faculty of Theology of the University of the Free State, Bloemfontein, South Africa. Acta Theologica is an accredited South African journal publishing independently reviewed research articles on broad Christian-theological and religion topics, aimed at a national and international academic audience/readership. The Editorial Board accepts and considers for possible publication articles in English, written from a responsible point of view on subjects in a relevant field of study within the Christian-theology science. The opinions expressed in the articles do not necessarily reflect the views of the Editorial Board. Acta Theologica appears bi-annually. Occasional monographs or longer contributions are published in a concurrent series of Supplementa.

The Sacrality of Things

Abstract: Mitcham, Borgmann, and others argue the character of technology is at odds with the character of Christian life. This paper challenges that claim in two moves. First, I examine ways Christian theology has been formed by Roman crucifixion, the printing press, and transoceanic navigation; Christology, biblical studies, and missiology are critically dependent upon technologies that facilitated the death of Jesus, the spread of Protestant literature, and the migration of missionaries. Second, I contend that these technologies shed light on a complicated relationship between the realm of the “sacred” and technologies. Technologies can have the character of being sacred or sacramental. As sacred, technologies fall within the purview of religious devotion like relics or icons. As sacramental, they influence the field of theology, through augmentation or restriction. Thus, technologies can be compatible with Christianity and have a positive effect on religion, expanding the fields of theological reflection and religious devotion.

Desert Daughters, Desert Sons: Rethinking the Christian Desert Tradition by Rachel Wheeler

Reviewed by: Desert Daughters, Desert Sons: Rethinking the Christian Desert Tradition by Rachel Wheeler Kyle A. Schenkewitz (bio) Desert Daughters, Desert Sons: Rethinking the Christian Desert Tradition. By Rachel Wheeler. Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2019. ix, 178 pp. $19.95. Collections of wisdom from the early desert tradition, like The Sayings of the Desert Fathers and Mothers, are perennial classics for the study of Christian spirituality; and Desert Daughters, Desert Sons will permanently shift how this body of literature [End Page 333] is read and applied to the spiritual life. Rachel Wheeler writes with a penetrating lens to see and imagine what is just beyond the pages of the recorded apophthegmata. Wheeler is attentive to both the text on the page as well as what is occluded, missing, and discounted. This inquiry is squarely focused on the neglect of women, the absence of women, the rejection of biological relationships, and the subordination of women's lives and experiences in this literature. Wheeler ably demonstrates that "men were never entirely able to get away from women, as much as they might have desired, tried to, and led us to believe they had" (3). On Wheeler's examination, the literature of the desert tradition was "full of women" for those willing to perceive them (2). Desert Daughters, Desert Sons refocuses the reader's attention to attend to the women in the Sayings who appear as background characters of many male-centered stories, as foils for men's spiritual pursuits, and as gendered others to be overcome by men's spiritual achievements. Desert Daughters, Desert Sons not only brings the lives of women in these tales to the fore, but highlights how women had much to offer, teach, and exemplify in the desert tradition. As much as this book offers a necessary corrective to a surface reading of these ascetic texts, Wheeler's aim is also reconstructive. Wheeler utilizes a hermeneutic that "consider(s) possibilities about the lives" the women depicted in the desert tradition to provide a "liberating vision . . . to reassess what is our present reality and to reimagine what might be our future" (17). One of the central themes of this book is how this re-reading of the desert tradition can foster a way of love when one considers the characters of the Sayings as real persons with biological families. Her title points readers to the fact that the ammas and abbas of the desert, indeed every individual mentioned in the literature, were also daughters and sons, as well as biological mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, and even spouses. Attending to the biological ties that are often neglected and rejected in the ascetic literature provides ample evidence of the ways these ascetics fashioned new, spiritual relationships at the expense of their familial relationships. According to the opening chapter, Wheeler's explicit motivation for this book is for a current audience that seeks in the early desert communities models for encountering God in daily life. The desert stories "offer contemporary readers a portrait of a lifestyle that, because independent of the explicit vocation that eventually derived from this context, might still feel possible for spiritual seekers today" (30). This literature is still being read and inculcated in Christian lives today and with it the bias, exclusion, and negative portrayals of women. By "peering into the margins" of the text and highlighting peripheral figures, Wheeler elicits new and deeper spiritual significance for the reader. The common thread of exemplary men overshadows the women in the background who were "leading their own lives, dealing with their own ordeals and successes, which seem not to interest men" (32). Wheeler brings to the fore intriguing questions that reshape the reception of the monastic wisdom these stories attempt to communicate. For example, in a passage where Poemen interacts with a monastic brother who had a pregnant wife the husband is instructed to repent and send his wife and newborn away having given them whatever they needed. Wheeler contends that attempting to solidify his monastic goals and resituate his obligations toward his spiritual family at the expense of his physical and biological family this husband and father was in the wrong. Wheeler's reasons are based on the...

Directing the Eye of the Soul: Form and Function in an Ancient Scenic Monologue (Cyprian, Ad Donatum)

In Ad Donatum, written soon after his baptism ca. 248, Cyprian exhorts a newly baptized friend, Donatus, in a garden that Cyprian describes in his own voice. Many scenic dialogues survive from Greco-Roman antiquity, but Ad Donatum is the only known ancient scenic monologue. This article seeks to explain Cyprian’s choice of this apparently unique form. Contrary to a hypothesis first advanced in 1899, the dialogic opening preserved in a handful of manuscripts was inserted in or after the fifth century, while the parallels sought in other works (especially Minucius Felix, Octavius) only underscore the uniqueness of Ad Donatum’s structure. A close reading suggests that Cyprian used the frame scenes to give particular immediacy and force to his exhortation to neophyte readers: they allow Cyprian to direct the reader first to himself (both speaker and proof of God’s transforming grace), to the evils of the world, and then to God. They also present a vivid and attractive picture of the Christian life as a peaceful retreat from worldly troubles. Thus, Cyprian is able to prove his case, as he promises in Ad Donatum 2, with reference only to the “facts” (res), not empty rhetoric. Wealthy neophytes are the main audience, but an allusion to a “profane eavesdropper” (arbiter profanus) in the opening section could also be a nod to pagan readers. Though Ad Donatum is not an apology, Cyprian, a prominent convert, likely did have non-Christian friends in mind, as well as neophytes and (probably) more experienced Christian readers. The unthreatened tranquility of the frame scenes, finally, contrasts with the more embattled peace described in works from the 250s; Ad Donatum thus illustrates the reality of the Christian life as it seemed to Cyprian before his ordination and the beginning of the Decian persecution.

Plenary Council in the Czech Republic (1997—2005)

This article analyses the preparation, process and conclusions of the Plenary Council of the Catholic Church in the Czech Republic held in 1997—2005. The Plenary Council was one of the few manifestations of the collegiality of the Czech Church, because the diocesan synods are not used here as a tool. The Decree on convocation of the Assembly was announced by the Czech and Moravian bishops on 5 July 1997 in Velehrad. The council was also an opportunity for priests and laity in the country to realise their responsibility for the Church and the co-responsibility of the Church for the condition of society. The Council had a preparatory phase (1997—2003), a stage of the 1st Session (July 2003), and a second phase of the Session (July 2005) where the project was completed and followed by the process of post-conciliar steps. Three final messages were the immediate output from the Second Plenary Session: the Message of the Council to the Public; the Message of the Council to the Believers of the Catholic Church and the Message of the Council to Christians in the Czech Republic. The resulting document was published in 2007 under the title The Life and Mission of Christians in the Church and the World. It was a document of a pastoral nature, in no way of a normative nature (no rules were actually adopted despite the work of the commission and the proposals). The Czech situation is described as “post-Christian missionary territory” there and — estimated the course of the conciliar process and of the Council itself — as an introduction of more intensive implementation of synodality in the Czech Church.