One of the courses I’m teaching this semester is World Religions. The course begins in India, moving to some of the Asian religions, before addressing the Abrahamic faiths. We cover history, theology, and contemporary issues of individual religions. In addition, throughout the semester we regularly return to the question of religious diversity.
How are we to understand seemingly mutually exclusive religious truth claims? Just last week we discussed the controversy at Wheaton College surrounding Larycia Hawkins. It is in this context that George B. Connell’s Kierkegaard and the Paradox of Religious Diversity speaks to.
Augustine is a common source for any discussion of the Trinity. It helps that he wrote a book called On the Trinity. For good or bad, the consensus understands Augustine as a pivotal figure in early Trinitarianism, especially in a post-Nicene context.
The Donatist controversy is not discussed at quite the same level as Augustine and the Trinity, but is a common area of Augustine studies. Geoffrey G. Willis wrote on the issue, and the matter is addressed in any of the standard biographies. What we do not see often is a study that combines the two.
Adam Ployd’s Augustine, Trinity, and the Church (Oxford, 2015; source: publisher) falls in line with works on the relationship between the Trinity and the church. Examples of such studies are Miroslav Volf, After Our Likeness: The Church as the Image of the Trinity and Jürgen Moltmann, The Trinity and the Kingdom. Ployd’s study is not a progression of Volf or Moltmann, for to do so would be anachronistic. Rather, Ployd takes a look at Augustine within his post-Nicene context.
There is no shortage of works addressing the Reformation. Roland H. Bainton’s Here I Stand remains a must read, in addition to other standards such as Diarmaid MacCulloch’s The Reformation, David C. Steinmetz’s Reformers in the Wing, and Michael Reeves’ The Unquenchable Flame. The field is crowded, yet scholars continue to find insightful approaches to Reformation studies (check out Andrew Pettegree’s Brand Luther and my review). David M. Whitford’s latest work on Philipp of Hesse is no exception.
Whitford’s A Reformation Life: The European Reformation through the Eyes of Philipp of Hesse (Praeger, 2015; source: publisher) begins with a conclusion. As Whitford states, wherever he looked he ended up running into Philipp of Hesse. The landgrave of Hesse had his hand in all matters of the Reformation. It was clear that all roads led to Philipp, but the how and why remained unanswered. A Reformation Life explores these routes.
ECH: When and why did you begin writing?
Terry Glaspey: I’ve been interested in writing almost as long as I remember. In grade school I created little 12-page illustrated stories that I sold to classmates for a quarter. And writing papers was the part of high school and college that I enjoyed most. I got started writing books when someone asked me to turn a talk I had given into an article for their magazine. They liked the results, and I wrote several more for them, which eventually became my first book, Children of a Greater God. That was over twenty years ago.
ECH: How did you become involved in the subject matter of 75 Masterpieces?
Terry Glaspey: I’m someone who found his life enriched by the arts—by literature, music, the visual arts, and film. And I have always been interested in the intersection between faith and creativity; by the way that religious commitment can be reflected in various art forms. I appreciate the way that art has a way of giving fresh perspectives to the message of faith.
It is always nice to see a discussion of Johann Georg Hamann. Craig G. Bartholomew’s address is no different. I was leafing through Bartholomew’s latest Introducing Biblical Hermeneutics: A Comprehensive Framework for Hearing God in Scripture, when I was pleasantly surprised to see a short treatment of the “Magus of the North.” People may be familiar with Bartholomew’s The Drama of Scripture: Finding Our Place in the Biblical Story, a text that I have assigned this semester. Bartholomew’s latest is a thorough hermeneutic.
Bartholomew situates his treatment of Hamann in his chapter on the relationship between philosophy and hermeneutics. His task is not one of originality. Rather, Bartholomew seeks to highlight a neglected but significant voice in philosophy and hermeneutics. Thus, Bartholomew includes much information that can be found elsewhere, including John R. Betz’s After Enlightenment: The Post-Secular Vision of J. G. Hamann and my posts.
John Frame, A History of Western Philosophy and Theology
Full disclosure, I am not a philosopher. Far from it. However, the history of philosophy has always been an interest of mine. Whether it was working my way through Frederick Copleston’s history or the intricacies of the Hamann-Kant dialogues, the history of philosophy has been a topic I regularly return to.
John M. Frame’s A History of Western Philosophy and Theology (P & R Publishing , 2015; source: publisher) is a reminder both of my love for the history of philosophy and my inadequacy as a philosopher. Frame provides a wide sweep of the discipline, yet detailed attention to key philosophers and philosophies.
This is all standard fare for a history of philosophy. What distinguishes this history is the author. Frame, known more for his work in theology, offers a uniquely Christian and theological perspective on the history of philosophy.
Once again, I want to commend Terry Glaspey’s balanced and well-thought-out list of 75 Masterpieces Every Christian Should Know (see my review here). The list covers practically all of history and various mediums of art and literature. It is in the latter centuries where I have some concerns and I want to suggest a couple of masterpieces I would have included instead.
Before I get started, there are some works that Glaspey addresses and that I would like to highlight. Jan Van Eck’s Adoration of the Lamb (1432) (75 Masterpieces, chapter 10) is truly a masterpiece. Installed in the Cathedral of Saint Bavo in Ghent, the twenty paneled altarpiece expands to eighteen feet and has a height of twelve feet.
The task of narrowing down centuries’ worth of “masterpieces” in a “best of” list is not one I would like to undertake. Deciding what is a masterpiece is a struggle in and of it itself, let alone having to provide a definitive list. Terry Glaspey’s 75 Masterpieces Every Christian Should Know (Baker, 2015; source: publisher) is a balanced choice of art, literature, music, and film.
Following a chronological ordering, Glaspey begins with the Christian catacombs of Rome (75 Masterpieces, chapter 1). From the second century to the fifth, the underground maze served as a communal burial ground for Christians in times of peace and persecution. Images such as the good shepherd decorated these grounds as a sign of life after death.
Though it may seem like 2017 is far away, the 500th anniversary of Martin Luther’s posting of the 95 Theses is fast approaching. Plans for the celebration are being finalized and publishers are lining up works to be released leading up to the anniversary. Anticipating of all this, Andrew Pettegree’s Brand Luther (Penguin, 2015; source: publisher) starts things off with a biography of Martin Luther.
Though I say biography, Brand Luther does not follow the traditional format of a biography on Luther. As with other biographies such as Bainton’s Here I Stand or Oberman’s Luther: Man Between God and the Devil, Pettegree writes in a chronological order and provides accounts of the key events within Luther’s life. However, Pettegree’s main objective attempts to answer “how, in the very different communication environment of five hundred years ago, a theological spat could become a great public event, embracing churchmen and laypeople over a wide span of the European landmass” (Brand Luther, x).
Picking up where we left off (see the previous post), we continue our discussion of Hamann’s wedding present to Johann Friedrich Hartknoch and Albertine Toussaint. The unconventional gift was a short work interpreting Genesis 1 and 2 through the guise of a sibyl. Hartknoch, being Hamann’s publisher, found the gift worth publishing in 1775. We first took a look at how Hamann understood the relationship between God and Eros. Now we turn to the issues of the image of God and marriage.
In the first of a two-part series, I will discuss Johann Georg Hamann’s Essay of a Sibyl on Marriage (1775) and his theology of sexual holiness.
Wedding gifts run the gamut from fine china to kitchen appliances, from cheese domes to French presses. I am not sure what one gets someone in eighteenth–century Prussia, but what Johann Georg Hamann gifted Johann Friedrich Hartknoch is as good as any. In the early hours of August 26, 1774 Hamann was awaken by Hartknoch and his bride, Albertine Toussaint. Overjoyed by their visit and recent good news, Hamann welcomed his guests with a promise of an essay to commemorate their nuptials.
It is hard to imagine a single text more influential than the Confessions. Of course there is the Bible or the Declaration of Independence, but, Confessions rivals any text apart from divine revelation or nation forming documents.
Contributing to the allure of the Confessions is the autobiographical nature of the work. Not entirely an autobiography, the first half recounts Augustine’s life. Secondly, there is a diversity of disciplines which are attracted to the Confessions. One only has to look at Rousseau’s Confessions to witness these two factors.
These elements are also present in Augustine’s Confessions: Philosophy in Autobiography (Oxford, 2014; source: publisher). The perspective of these philosophers provides a welcome contribution to the study of Augustine’s Confessions.
When it comes to the origins of the ecclesiastical offices, established scholarship has long held episkopos and presbyteros as synonymous terms describing the same office. F. C. Baur’s understanding was established as the classic position in 1835. This position has become the standard, articulated in specialist and non-specialist literature alike.
Revisionist work has challenged the consensus to a limited degree of success. However, such studies have either failed to provide convincing evidence for their case or lacked widespread reception. That is, until Stewart’s The Original Bishops.