This is a review of the paperback version, but there are e-book versions, which seem to me easier to read. E-books have given a new meaning to the phrase, ‘you cannot judge a book by its cover’, and the purpose of this book is easier to judge in its ‘book’ version. It is a text book, written in largish font, and neatly subdivided into sections which can easily be read out of sequence. The front is entirely taken up by a painting, ‘The Martyrs’ Picture’ by Durante Alberti. You can find this picture in the kindle version, but without the bright colours we tend to associate with pictures of martyrdom. The painting is in the chapel of the English College in Rome and the title of the book obscures the map of Britain on a globe onto which drips the blood of the crucified Christ. He is held up by his Father, while the Holy Spirit in the form of a dove hovers above him, but there is no cross. Angels hold up the cloak of the Father, while two martyrs St Edmund, King of East Anglia, and St Thomas of Canterbury are seen at the side. The complexity of the painting says something in itself about the complexity of theology, a complexity that will always reflect on particularity. The universal truths of the Trinity and the death of Christ impinge on two very different martyrs, from two very different phases in the life of the British Isles, and this book comes out of the life that continues in these islands.
The title of the book gives pause. It is an introduction to Christian theology, not Catholic theology. It certainly could be read with profit from outside the Catholic world, but it is hard to imagine it coming from someone who is not well versed in Catholic ways of thinking. Still why shouldn't Catholics write ‘Christian’ theology? Or to put it another way, why should we assume that guides to Christian theology are necessarily protestant?
What we have is a comprehensive introduction to theology, taking in the Old Testament and the New. Then we are given sections on dogma, ecclesiology and the sacraments which come under the heading of ‘Theology in the Classical Period’. The next section brings in the modern and the contemporary, which are not quite the same, since modernity begins in the sixteenth century. Ethics too comes under modernity. This could be justified if we see theology in the classical period as being the structure, and modernity as the attempt to test the solidity of that structure. Ethics too has a classical structure which can be undermined. One difference though is that classical ethics has also been challenged in the modern age by all-pervading structures such as various forms of Marxism. Classical ethics steers its way between extremes of individuality, irresponsibility and monistic views of morality, which allow for no leeway. We see this in our contemporary society where a public figure can see their career destroyed for committing the wrong sort of offence, or conversely for wrongly condemning what is no longer considered an offence. Which is which, can change very rapidly.
This is where the book comes into its own. It moves from Genesis right up to recent pronouncements on the television and the internet. We have not quite reached the point where the blog will replace the book entirely, but it is coming and this book itself shows awareness of the constantly changing range of thoughts about how reality works. So we have a book which gives a kickstart to anyone who wishes to pursue the conversation of theology. To help with this, we are given a brief summary of the important objections to faith, but also those who come to its defence in unexpected ways, such as Victor Frankl, working from his own experience in a concentration camp. The conversation is not necessarily just between human beings. There is a conversation with God. It may be that reality itself is a dialogue into which we are drawn. At the end of the last chapter, the author says that Erasmus translates the word ‘logos’ from the first verse of the Gospel of St John as ‘sermo’ which he then translates as ‘conversation’.
Conversation might imply the possibility of disagreement but it need not. It is possible for conversation to be the statement of truths which are simply accepted as truths. This is what St Thomas Aquinas thought was the basis of conversation between good angels. For human beings conversation can involve doubt, disagreement and sometimes abuse. Yet without conversation, our ability to learn truth would be very limited. We have to choose how we will pursue conversation for ourselves. So the last words of the book, a book which gives us such a full and joyful set of material to pursue for ourselves the conversation we are called to pursue, he ends with three simple words, ‘Over to you’.
