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Hamlet is thrown into a state of uncertainty about the eternal. Indeed, his famed “delay” is a response to the thought of eternity. He is given “pause” by imagining “what dreams may come / When we have shuffled off this mortal coil”. The eternal is the “rub”. The chapter tackles this obscure rub by turning to Soren Kierkegaard, who references Hamlet’s famous soliloquy in his Philosophical Fragments. Resurrection, for Kierkegaard, is a movement through non-being to being. Negativity here plays a critical role. To be “born again”, the learner must “become[] nothing and yet … not [be] annihilated”. Hamlet’s struggle with the eternal opens him to an expansive view of humanity that goes beyond Claudius’s will to power or Laertes’s customary honour. It brings him to a new political vision, outside the violent and reductive dynastic politics of Denmark. Hamlet seeks what would seem impossible within revenge tragedy: the incalculable. The “eternal” is here used in an inclusive sense to show how the obscure but liberating thought of the timeless or untimely allows ideas of justice, charity, equality, and forgiveness to enter the play. The eternal suggests an imaginary perspective that negates our current preoccupations and political economies.
The resurrection of Jesus, pivotal to Christian history and praxis, is universally attested in early Christian sources, even if often critiqued or sidelined as myth or apologetics in modern scholarship. Paul’s letters and of the Gospels in their narrative diversity document the resurrection’s transformative and abiding impact on Jesus’s followers. In bringing the aspirations of myth and metaphor to fruition in time, the resurrection of Jesus is both an event in history and yet constitutes a new reality that transcends the register of available language and analogy.
The essay compares the problem of history in the theological methods of the Reformed theologian Thomas Torrance and the Catholic theologian Bernard Lonergan. Lonergan works to incorporate historical science into theology, while Torrance argues for a revision of historical science. Lonergan's method is a synthesis of Catholic theology and history, but it is one constructed at the expense of eschatology and the full significance of Christ's resurrection. Torrance's method, on the contrary, includes a dogmatic understanding of history that is grounded solidly on the ‘Word-Act’ of God – the incarnation and resurrection of Christ. It gives full weight to eschatology but elides the contingencies of history.
A Christian approach to suffering, sin, and evil cannot offer now a full theodicy. We now ‘know in part’ only regarding divine purposes in allowing suffering, sin, and evil. We can clarify instead how God interacts in righteousness with people as their God of promise and voucher in the midst of suffering, sin, and evil. To that end, this article illuminates a divine effort toward human reconciliation with God in righteousness and resurrection, despite our gaps in explaining suffering, sin, and evil. It identifies current reconciliation with God and resurrection by God that do not fully explain suffering, sin, and evil, but can be a voucher now in human experience and life for eventual eschatological reparations promised by God. If the Spirit of God can be such a voucher, so also can the reconciliation and resurrection now empowered by that Spirit. This article recognizes a special role for the divine ‘fruit of the Spirit’ identified by Paul. It also explains how this role figures in spiritual resurrection with Christ now, in advance of any resurrection of the body. The article contends that the spiritual resurrection in question emerges through reconciliation with God now in volitional cooperation with God’s unique moral personality traits.
The apostle Paul was a Jew. He was born, lived, undertook his apostolic work, and died within the milieu of ancient Judaism. And yet, many readers have found, and continue to find, Paul's thought so radical, so Christian, even so anti-Jewish – despite the fact that it, too, is Jewish through and through. This paradox, and the question how we are to explain it, are the foci of Matthew Novenson's groundbreaking book. The solution, says the author, lies in Paul's particular understanding of time. This too is altogether Jewish, with the twist that Paul sees the end of history as present, not future. In the wake of Christ's resurrection, Jews are perfected in righteousness and – like the angels – enabled to live forever, in fulfilment of God's ancient promises to the patriarchs. What is more, gentiles are included in the same pneumatic existence promised to the Jews. This peculiar combination of ethnicity and eschatology yields something that looks not quite like Judaism or Christianity as we are used to thinking of them.
This chapter examines whether agnosticism with respect to personal ontology should lead us toward agnosticism with respect to the possibility of life after death. Two afterlife scenarios are considered: resurrection and reincarnation. It is argued that all the major accounts of personal ontology are compatible with both resurrection and reincarnation, except for the non-self thesis, which is incompatible with resurrection. Various arguments for the conclusion that resurrection or reincarnation are impossible are considered and rejected. But it is argued that reincarnation faces a difficulty: the standard evidence cited for reincarnation, namely the presence of mental states apparently from a previous life, would, even if corroborated, not show that one is identical with someone from a previous life. What’s more, it would not provide any evidence for substance dualism.
What are we? Are we, for example, souls, organisms, brains, or something else? In this book, Andrew Brenner argues that there are principled obstacles to our discovering the answer to this fundamental metaphysical question. The main competing accounts of personal ontology hold that we are either souls (or composites of soul and body), or we are composite physical objects of some sort, but, as Brenner shows, arguments for either of these options can be parodied and transformed into their opposites. Brenner also examines arguments for and against the existence of the self, offers a detailed discussion of the metaphysics of several afterlife scenarios - resurrection, reincarnation, and mind uploading -- and considers whether agnosticism with respect to personal ontology should lead us to agnosticism with respect to the possibility of life after death.
This article explores Richard Fishacre’s (1200–1248) thinking on the relationship between theology and philosophy. It shows how, despite constructing what, on the surface at least, appears to be a traditional understanding of theology’s relationship to philosophy, Fishacre in practice offers a very creative interpretation of how the two sciences interact. For Fishacre, theology does not simply illumine philosophy by guiding it away from error. Instead, it steps into the fray of ordinary philosophical dispute so as to uncover novel ways of reading natural phenomena, ones which philosophy, by itself at least, is blind to. To demonstrate how this is so, the article explores how Fishacre appeals to Christ’s resurrected body to justify some of his most controversial arguments in the field of natural philosophy. Two specific areas are considered: Fishacre’s claim that light in medio is a body and his assertion that the stars and planets are made from the terrestrial elements as opposed to the celestial quintessence, as Aristotle claims. Each of these aspects of Fishacre’s physics show how, for the Dominican, theology can, when appropriate, step onto the philosophical plane and help the natural philosopher to discover truths that go against the philosophical consensus.
Focusing on Romans 11, this chapter argues that Paul here concludes his larger argument by making the case that gentile incorporation does not suggest that God has abandoned his people Israel but rather is the very means by which God is saving not only one subset of Israel (that is, the Jews) but all Israel (Judah and Israel), with transformed gentiles effectively becoming resurrected Israelites. In the process, the chapter addresses Paul’s arguments about the remnant and the olive tree and observes that Paul concludes his argument by highlighting God’s removal of “impiety” from “Jacob,” tying this passage to the very beginning of the argument in Romans 1.
This chapter works through Romans 10 and Galatians 3:10–14 in conversation with other early Jewish evidence, arguing that Paul is participating in a long-standing Jewish debate about the relationship between repentance and Israel’s redemption. Specifically, will Israel’s repentance initiate the restoration or will God’s redemptive intervention produce Israel’s repentance? Paul comes down squarely on the latter side, arguing for a divinely-initiated redemption through the obedient fidelity of Jesus, whose status and authority as “the just one”—the figure divinely appointed to bring about redemption—was validated by the resurrection. In the process, this chapter provides an elegant solution for the longstanding problem of how to understand Paul’s citations of Lev 18:5 and Deut 30:12–14 in these passages.
This chapter argues that Paul’s gospel was based on the conviction that God’s promises through the prophets—specifically the promise of a renewed covenant with Israel—were being fulfilled through Jesus’ death, resurrection, and the gift of the spirit. Working primarily from 2 Corinthians 3 and the central chapters of Romans, this chapter puts Paul in conversation with Jubilees, a variety of texts from the Dead Sea Scrolls (1QS, CD, 1QPHa, etc.), Philo of Alexandria, and more. The chapter demonstrates that all of these texts bear witness to a view of Israel as having fallen under the Torah’s curses for covenantal disobedience and awaiting a restoration that includes an ethical transformation through divine intervention.
This final chapter wraps up the study as a whole, assessing how this argument about gentile incorporation into Israel and the role of Torah in Paul’s thought fits into the larger context of Paul’s thought and why, if Paul believes gentile men are being transformed into Israelites, he argues against requiring physical circumcision of non-Jewish men who receive the spirit. The chapter closes with an assessment of how this model accounts for the development of Pauline thought in early Christianity as the movement became more gentile-dominated.
Through attention to Augustine’s teaching on the Resurrection and Ascension, this chapter draws to the fore the ecclesiological consequences of the book’s christological proposal, emphasizing both the nature of the Church as the mutual recognition of Christ in one another, and the Church’s intrinsic dependence on and receptivity to the world beyond it.
Three Indian religions are considered, in the likely order of their origin. In each case a history and analysis are first offered before a specific issue is addressed in more detail. For Jainism it is the question of reincarnation. Here it is suggested that similar concerns for justice underly both Jainism’s almost physical embedding of karma in the universe and western theism’s postulation of a doctrine of resurrection. If so, it is what is scientifically and metaphysically possible which is in dispute (the status of soul and body) rather than different moral values. With Buddhism its moral approach is considered, partly through using Gavin Flood’s comparative study on asceticism and partly through drawing parallels with the influence of Stoicism on early Christian ethics. Finally, the impersonal character of the divine advocated in Sikhism is given sympathetic treatment through considering some issues raised by Neo-Platonism. Each of these questions will be considered further in subsequent chapters.
In An Augustinian Christology: Completing Christ, Joseph Walker-Lenow advances a striking christological thesis: Jesus Christ, true God and true human, only becomes who he is through his relations to the world around him. To understand both his person and work, it is necessary to see him as receptive to and determined by the people he meets, the environments he inhabits, even those people who come to worship him. Christ and the redemption he brings cannot be understood apart from these factors, for it is through the existence and agency of the created world that he redeems. To pursue these claims, Walker-Lenow draws on an underappreciated resource in the history of Christian thought: St. Augustine of Hippo's theology of the 'whole Christ.' Presenting Augustine's christology across the full range of his writings, Joseph Walker-Lenow recovers a christocentric Augustine with the potential to transform our understandings of the Church and its mission in our world.
The gospel promoted by Paul has for many generations stirred passionate debate. That gospel proclaimed equal salvific access to Jews and gentiles alike. But on what basis? In making sense of such a remarkable step forward in religious history, Jason Staples reexamines texts that have proven thoroughly resistant to easy comprehension. He traces Paul's inclusive theology to a hidden strand of thinking in the earlier story of Israel. Postexilic southern Judah, he argues, did not simply appropriate the identity of the fallen northern kingdom of Israel. Instead, Judah maintained a notion of 'Israel' as referring both to the north and the ongoing reality of a broad, pan-Israelite sensibility to which the descendants of both ancient kingdoms belonged. Paul's concomitant belief was that northern Israel's exile meant assimilation among the nations – effectively a people's death – and that its restoration paradoxically required gentile inclusion to resurrect a greater 'Israel' from the dead.
The ignominious death of Jesus on the cross was the starting point of the history of Christians. It could have meant the end of the followers of Christ, especially because soon the body of Jesus also disappeared. However, the Christians succeeded in interpreting the events for themselves by speaking of the resurrection of Christ and cultivating the expectation of his return (parousia). Such ideas seem strange to modern observers, but they were apparently convincing for enough contemporaries that the followers of Christ survived. However, they were continually dependent on words, because relics were initially lacking and only memories could help spread faith in Jesus.
The phrase blood of Christ has traditionally been interpreted as and used interchangeably with Christ's sacrificial death. As such, Jesus’ death is seen to be more crucial to salvation than his incarnation and resurrection. The blood of Christ language in the New Testament books of Hebrews and Romans echoes Old Testament cultic atonement language. Given recent and ample exegetical biblical scholarship that suggests blood of Christ language might refer to Christ's incarnational, resurrected life, we should explore the resulting soteriological implications. What salvific significance is there to the cross if Jesus Christ entered the Most Holy Place with his lifeblood flowing in his veins as David Moffitt asserts? I propose that the cross reveals God's legal and moral authority to forgive sin without minimising the law.
In this book, Matthew Levering unites eschatologically charged biblical Christology with metaphysical and dogmatic Thomistic Christology, by highlighting the typological Christologies shared by Scripture, the Church Fathers, and Aquinas. Like the Church Fathers, Aquinas often reflected upon Jesus in typological terms (especially in his biblical commentaries), just as the New Testament does. Showing the connections between New Testament, Patristic, and Aquinas' own typological portraits of Jesus, Levering reveals how the eschatological Jesus of biblical scholarship can be integrated with Thomistic Christology. His study produces a fully contemporary Thomistic Christology that unites ressourcement and Thomistic modes of theological inquiry, thereby bridging two schools of contemporary theology that too often are imagined as rivals. Levering's book reflects and augments the current resurgence of Thomistic Christology as an ecumenical project of relevance to all Christians.
Here New Blackfriars is publishing for the first time a set of three talks given in 1979 by the distinguished Dominican theologian Herbert McCabe (1926-2001). It appears that the talks were delivered in Leeds, UK, during a Holy Week retreat (or something like that). The text below derives from a typescript put together by someone unknown on the basis of what seems to have been an audio recording. McCabe is clearly drawing on these talks in Chapters 7 to 9 of his 1987 book God Matters (chapters which are reprints of articles published in New Blackfriars in 1986). However, the original talks as they appear below have the brevity, freshness, informality, spontaneity, and blemishes characteristic of a ‘live performance’ rather than a reworking and development of them for publication coming seven years after they were delivered. That is why New Blackfriars is now publishing them in the hope that they might interest readers of the journal, which McCabe edited for many years. New Blackfriars is grateful to Marie Turner for drawing its attention to them and for sending it a copy of the typescript of the 1979 talks.