There is a certain honesty in the title I Believe. Help My Unbelief! that immediately signals both the ambition and the vulnerability of Veli-Matti Kärkkäinen’s book. Borrowed from the anguished prayer of the father in Mark 9:24, the phrase functions not merely as a rhetorical hook but as a hermeneutical key for the entire project. What follows is neither a defensive apologetic nor a diluted catechism. Instead, Kärkkäinen offers a theologically confident yet dialogically open exposition of Christian doctrine for readers who inhabit a world shaped by religious plurality, scientific rationality, and pervasive secular suspicion.

Kärkkäinen is uniquely positioned to undertake such a task. A long-standing professor of systematic theology at Fuller Theological Seminary, he is widely known for his five-volume Constructive Christian Theology for the Pluralistic World, a massive academic achievement that few theologians would dare to condense. This book is precisely that condensation, though “simplification” would be the wrong word. What is offered here is rather a careful transposition: the intellectual architecture of a major constructive project rendered in a register accessible to pastors, students, and reflective believers without forfeiting conceptual rigor.

The introduction sets the tone by refusing the false dichotomy between faith and knowledge. Kärkkäinen rejects both naïve fideism and scientistic dismissal, proposing instead a chastened epistemology influenced by Michael Polanyi’s notion of tacit knowledge. Belief, he argues, is neither blind assent nor empirical certainty but a reasoned trust that remains open to testing, critique, and growth. This epistemic humility becomes a recurring virtue throughout the book and helps explain its unusual generosity toward secular interlocutors and other religious traditions alike.

Chapter 1, on revelation, is among the strongest in the volume. Kärkkäinen navigates the post-Enlightenment crisis of authority by articulating revelation as trinitarian, incarnational, and historically mediated. His treatment of Scripture as “God’s Word in human words” avoids both fundamentalist inerrancy and reductionist liberalism, framing inspiration instead as divine–human synergy. Particularly noteworthy is the comparative engagement with Jewish, Islamic, Hindu, and Buddhist accounts of revelation. Revelation here is not domesticated; it remains scandalous, yet intelligible.

Chapter 2 turns to the doctrine of God, where Kärkkäinen’s ecumenical breadth and conceptual discipline are on full display. Rather than beginning with abstract metaphysical attributes, he situates Christian talk of God within the lived realities of religious plurality and philosophical contestation. Classical trinitarian theology is presented not as an inherited formula in need of defense, but as Christianity’s most daring and constructive proposal about ultimate reality: that God’s being is irreducibly relational, communicative, and self-giving.

What gives this chapter its distinctive force is the sustained comparative engagement. Jewish covenantal monotheism, Islamic tawḥīd, and Buddhist non-theism are treated not as foils but as serious theological interlocutors. Kärkkäinen responds to Islamic critiques of the Trinity not defensively but by clarifying how, in Christian theology, relationality does not dilute divine unity but intensifies it. Likewise, his engagement with Buddhist critiques of personal theism exposes how deeply Christian claims about God are bound to incarnation, history, and relational love rather than metaphysical abstraction.

In Chapter 3, creation is explored in sustained conversation with the natural sciences. Kärkkäinen affirms evolutionary accounts without surrendering theological claims about divine purpose, goodness, and providence. Creation is not treated as a closed past event but as an ongoing, Spirit-sustained reality. The chapter’s refusal to pit faith against science gives it particular resonance for readers formed by contemporary cosmology.

Chapter 4 addresses theological anthropology, asking what it means to be human in light of evolutionary biology, cognitive science, and cultural diversity. Kärkkäinen’s insistence on the imago Dei as relational and dynamic allows him to integrate scientific insights while retaining moral and theological depth. His engagement with Buddhist and Hindu views of the self is especially illuminating, clarifying both points of convergence and irreducible difference.

Christology, the focus of Chapter 5, is treated with careful balance. Kärkkäinen affirms classical Chalcedonian orthodoxy while exploring how Christ can be meaningfully confessed in religiously plural contexts. He resists both relativism and triumphalism, presenting Christ as uniquely revelatory and salvific without reducing other religious figures to mere negations. The chapter models a Christology confident enough to listen and humble enough to learn.

Chapter 6 deepens this trajectory by interpreting reconciliation through a plurality of atonement motifs rather than a single controlling theory. This integrative approach reflects both biblical diversity and pastoral sensitivity, particularly in a global context marked by violence, injustice, and historical trauma.

The doctrine of the Holy Spirit, explored in Chapter 7, bears the marks of Kärkkäinen’s Pentecostal formation without becoming sectarian. The Spirit is presented as active not only in the church but in creation, culture, and beyond ecclesial boundaries. This expansive pneumatology reinforces the book’s overarching vision of a God who remains dynamically engaged with the world.

Chapter 8 addresses salvation with notable restraint. Kärkkäinen maps the theological options regarding exclusivity, inclusivity, and hope without forcing premature resolution. Salvation remains decisively grounded in Christ, yet its ultimate scope is entrusted to divine mercy rather than theological anxiety.

Ecclesiology, the subject of Chapter 9, is framed in explicitly public and pneumatological terms and speaks with particular force to ongoing conversations in Pentecostal public theology. The church is not imagined as a protected enclave nor as a moral lobby, but as a Spirit-constituted communion whose very existence is itself a form of public witness. Kärkkäinen resists both withdrawal and domination, articulating instead a vision of the church as porous yet identifiable, hospitable yet disciplined — a communio sanctorum sent into the world without being absorbed by it. Particularly significant is his engagement with secularism and post-secularity, where the church is called neither to nostalgia for Christendom nor to anxious relevance-seeking, but to patient, Spirit-led presence. For Pentecostal readers attentive to the public implications of ecclesiology, this chapter offers a compelling reminder that charismatic vitality and communal formation belong together.

The brief epilogue returns to the book’s governing prayer. Faith, Kärkkäinen reminds us, is always accompanied by questions, and theology at its best does not silence them but teaches believers how to live with them faithfully.

In an age marked by polarized certainties and shallow dismissals, Kärkkäinen offers something quieter and more demanding: a theology that believes deeply, listens carefully, and hopes patiently — refusing to confuse faith with the absence of questions. That may be this book’s most timely gift.

Reviewed by Ciprian Gheorghe-Luca

Publisher’s page: https://wipfandstock.com/9781725276673/i-believe-help-my-unbelief/

While most discussion of Bible translations take place around the traditional “free vs. literal” debate, modern, non-Biblical translation theory has become suspicious of such easy dichotomies (e.g. Pym 1997: 39).  Many translation scholars now tend to examine translations based on the purpose for which they were written.¹ This article will examine skopos theory, one of the most well-known purpose-based translation theories, in more depth and will discuss the potential objections to using it to examine and analyse Bible translations.  This theory has been chosen as it is the only purpose-based translation theory so far to have been applied to Bible translation.  I will argue for this theory to become the prevailing theory for examining entire Bible translations while the use of the more traditional terminology would then be restricted to the description of small-scale translation decisions, if used at all.

Skopos theory explained

In skopos theory, translation is seen as “an intentional, interpersonal, partly verbal intercultural interaction based on a source text” (Nord [1997] 2007: 18). To fully examine this theory, we must first examine the core notion of translation as an ‘intentional’ activity.

Nord admits that viewing translation as “intentional” or “purposeful” seems to be self-evident (ibid p. 1).  After all, the very act of doing anything implies intent or purpose (Sire 1988: 103, 227 [note 21]).  However, to view translation specifically as an “intentional” activity means that the translation itself must be judged according to how well it fulfilled its purpose (Schäffner 1997: 2).  This is the basis that forms the skopos rule, which is as follows:

[To] translate/interpret/speak/write in a way that enables your text/translation to function in the situation in which it is used and with the people who want to use it and precisely the way they want it to function. (Nord [1997] 2007: 29, translating Vermeer 1989: 20)

How this rule operates can be demonstrated from professional practice.  A translator working on a CV that is to be submitted to an employer in a target culture² will deliberately translate in such a way that the CV will function in that culture.  This may involve seeking target culture equivalents for qualifications mentioned, converting job titles into recognisable target language titles or even changing the grammatical class of words.  In my own work, one of the most frequent changes made to such documents is to change nouns into verbs given the preference in English-language CVs for action verbs (as shown in Yate [1993] 2003: 59-61).

Judging the success of a translation on how well it fulfilled the “intention” for which it was written means that its relation to the source text will necessarily become a secondary concern.  The translation strategy chosen and therefore the relation between the two texts will be determined by the intention of the translation (Nord [1997] 2007: 32).  In CVs, this would lead the translator to weigh up strategies for handling the use of target culture equivalents of qualifications – e.g. adding them next to the source culture term, using footnotes or replacing the source term completely.  In Bible translation this might mean weighing up strategies for handling source language terms for which there is no real target culture equivalent (see Fee and Stuart [1993] 2002: 37, 38 for examples).

This view tends to reduce the tendency for any particular translation strategy to be seen as an “ideal.”  While there may be some occasions and intentions that call for the strategy Fee and Strauss (2007: 28) call “formal equivalence;” others will call for “functional equivalence.”  Rather than choosing one of these two, or indeed any other option, for purely theological or linguistic reasons, the translator will make his or her choice based on which is more likely to serve the purpose of the text (Nord 2002: 33; 2003: 34).  This view forms an alternative to the more traditional theories, which have caused so much debate in the past.  In fact, many skopos theorists see it is a real opportunity to solve the debates over “free vs. faithful translation, dynamic vs. formal equivalence, good interpreters vs. slavish translators, and so on” (Nord [1997] 2007: 29).

This challenges the traditional supremacy of the source text as the sole basis on which translations must be assessed.  While, Hans Vermeer, one of the originators of skopos theory, stated that there must be a relationship between the source and target text (Nord [1997] 2007: 32); he also claimed to have “dethroned” the source text as an unchangeable and unchanging basis of comparison (ibid p. 37).  Some theorists feel that this could easily lead to any and all translation purposes being seen as acceptable, even if they are incompatible with the apparent purpose of the source text (ibid p. 124; Pym 1997: 91).  Following this principle, there would be nothing inherently wrong with changing universities mentioned on a CV to UK equivalents (“Oxford” for “Sorbonne,” for example) or changing all references to places in the Bible to equivalents in modern-day USA, as one Bible translator is reported to have done (Fee and Strauss 2007: 33).

In both cases, such changes, while possibly being defensible as “equivalents” on a purely cultural level, are very likely to mislead the reader.  If, for instance, the writer of a CV attended “Sorbonne” but the translator uses “Oxford,” the client could be accused of lying if the prospective employer decides to verify their claim.  Similarly, no matter how familiar US cities are to US Bible readers, the fact is that Jesus was born in Bethlehem, not Boston.  Skopos theory therefore lacked logical and ethical limits to what could be seen as acceptable translation practice (Pym 1997: 91).

Veli-Matti Kärkkäinen is Professor of Systematic Theology at Fuller Theological Seminary.

From the publisher:

Kärkkäinen’s Constructive Christian Theology for the Pluralistic World is a five-volume project that aims to develop a new approach to and method of doing Christian theology in our pluralistic world at the beginning of the third millennium. Topics such as diversity, inclusivity, violence, power, cultural hybridity, and justice are part of the constructive theological discussion along with classical topics such as the messianic consciousness, incarnation, atonement, and the person of Christ.

With the metaphor of hospitality serving as the framework for his discussion, Kärkkäinen engages Judaism, Islam, Buddhism, and Hinduism in sympathetic and critical mutual dialogue while remaining robustly Christian in his convictions. Never before has a full-scale doctrinal theology been attempted in such a wide and deep dialogical mode.

From the Winter 2016 issue
Volume 1: Christ and Reconciliation
Veli-Matti Kärkkäinen, Christ and Reconciliation, A Constructive Christian Theology for the Pluralistic World series, Volume 1 (Grand Rapids, MI: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing, 2013), 467 pages, ISBN 9780802868534.

From the Winter 2018 issue
Volume 2: Trinity and Revelation
Veli-Matti Kärkkäinen, Trinity and Revelation, A Constructive Christian Theology for the Pluralistic World, Volume 2 (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2014), 486 pages, ISBN 9780802868541.

From the Fall 2018 issue
Volume 3: Creation and Humanity
Veli-Matti Kärkkäinen, Creation and Humanity, A Constructive Christian Theology for the Pluralistic World, Volume 3 (Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans, 2015), pages x+554.

From the Spring 2020 issue
Volume 4: Spirit and Salvation
Veli-Matti Kärkkäinen, Spirit and Salvation, A Constructive Christian Theology for the Pluralistic World, Volume 4 (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2016), xi+498 pages, ISBN 9780802868565.

From the Summer 2020 issue
Volume 5: Hope and Community
Veli-Matti Kärkkäinen, Hope and Community, A Constructive Christian Theology for the Pluralistic World, Volume 5 (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Press, 2017), x+574 pages with indices.

PneumaReview.com invites you to interact with this academic paper by Pastor Adeboye Godwin.

Abstract

Today it is most difficult to teach or write about the Holy Spirit. This is because there are several arguments, different teachings, various thoughts, different beliefs and divisions arising from the teaching on the Holy Spirit. The aspect of doctrine of Holy Spirit which has been the most controversial is the case for Spiritual Gifts. Spiritual Gifts is given to unite Christians, but it has been the major cause of conflict and ecclesiastical disunity.[1] There are two Greek words generally used to describe spiritual gifts. The first is pneumatikos, meaning “Spiritual things or things pertaining to the Spirit.” This word emphasizes the spiritual nature and origin of spiritual gifts. The other words often used to identify spiritual gifts is charisma, meaning “grace gift.” The word charisma (pl. charismata) emphasizes that a spiritual gift is a gift of God’s grace: it is not a naturally developed ability but rather a gift bestowed on a believer for God’s service (1 Cor. 12:1-7). The interpretation and discussion of the charismata have varied from the various extremes.

Pastor Adeboye Godwin

This research is purposeful. It is to remedy the misconceptions on the possession and exercise of spiritual gift in the community of believers. Nowadays, there appears to be much emphasis on the Holy Spirit, and charismata are gaining more prominence than ever before, it is expedient that Christians be taught the purpose and the appropriate use of charismata. The subject of spiritual gifts has aroused unprecedented interest in every religious circles. With almost universal appeal, the tide of charismatic theology has cut across all theological barriers and ecclesiastical institutions. This works reveals that the spiritual gifts are not given to engender pride, hierarchy and disunity in the church but for the purpose of building up the church and also that charismata are not end themselves but a means to an end, and that end is oikodomen (Building up of the body of Christ)

Introduction

The singular issue that has most divided the body of Christ today is the lopsided orientation about the proper usage and purpose of the Spiritual Gifts. The use of spiritual gifts can mar or make the church. Any casual survey of Christian bookstore and libraries will show that the subject of the Spiritual gifts is a “hot item nowadays.”[2] For the fact that 21st century christian ministry is pneumacentric (full of and centered around the manifestation of Holy Spirit) has made the issue of the Holy Spirit to be in the forefront. Over the last decades the volume of the books written on the Holy Spirit have sprang in to a large proportion. Peter Wagner’s prefatorial words affirms this current trends. He says “I need to make a good case for adding another book to the already too-long list of book on spiritual gifts.”[3] This shows that a lot has been said about the concept of Holy Spirit. Also, the Wagner’s assertion reflects that the most pneumatological concepts that has been widely discussed and demonstrated is the “Charismata.”  Some of the questions that have been raised and misunderstood are: “what are the biblical methodology for the usage of charismata? what is the intention of God in giving out the charisma to some individuals? how can these charismata be appropriately utilized in the body of Christ? Should the charismata be theocentric or anthropocentric? How can egocentric notions be removed from the usage of charismata? and which of the charismata should be given the highest preeminence in christian body? Answers to these questions are important to how united the church will be. And how united the church is will affect the extent the church will go on the Great Commission.

A Visible Unity: Cecil Robeck and the Work of Ecumenism is a revised version of Josiah Baker’s dissertation, written under the supervision of Veli-Matti Kärkkäinen at Fuller Theological Seminary’s Center for Advanced Theological Studies. In this book, Baker argues that methods of ecumenical work express a shared ecclesiology among churches, and that as these methods evolve, the ecclesiologies of churches working together converge. To support his thesis, Baker traces the thought and contributions of Pentecostal historian and ecumenist Cecil “Mel” Robeck throughout his years of involvement in the ecumenical movement, demonstrating how specific ecumenical methodologies have led to ecclesiological convergence among divergent groups. This is a novel approach in that Baker chooses a single person who participates in multiple ecumenical initiatives as his locus of inquiry, rather than analyzing multiple persons or ideas related to a single initiative (9). Additionally, Baker’s choice of a Pentecostal voice confronts prejudices within the field of ecumenics that have excluded, dismissed, or marginalized Pentecostals, thereby allowing Robeck’s contributions to interrogate the presuppositions that have led to such a position. One of Baker’s stated goals for his book is to “canonize Robeck as one of the most influential leaders of the ecumenical movement as it entered its second century” (xi).

The chapters draw on Robeck’s publications, personal interviews with the author, and his documented participation in ecumenical initiatives. Each chapter, from chapter 2 on, focuses on a particular ecumenical methodology. Methods include reconciling memories, conciliarity, bilateral dialogue, spiritual ecumenism, and Christian forums. In chapter 1, Baker divides Robeck’s ecclesiology into three fundamental dimensions: (1) the church as a divine initiative with God as the source of its unity and power to pursue unity, (2) the church as a historical community that inherits Tradition but is also subject to social forces, and (3) the church as the people of God that cannot exist apart from all its members (28). This ecclesiological framework informs Robeck’s thought and participation, which Baker analyzes in the subsequent chapters. Chapter 2 considers how Robeck’s ecclesiology comes to bear in his work on the Azusa Street Revival, the topic for which he is most widely recognized. Such work reflects hopes of achieving racial reconciliation through the reconciliation of shared memories, enabling racially divided churches to see themselves as part of the same story and community.

Chapter 3, on conciliarity, recognizes Robeck’s role in expanding the World Council of Churches (WCC) through his participation in various assemblies and consultations as a Pentecostal. Baker argues that the methodological shift in how the WCC pursues relations with Pentecostals directly resulted from Robeck’s work as co-chair of the Joint Consultative Group at the Harare Assembly in 1998 (100–101). Bilateral Dialogue is the subject of Chapter 4. This method creates opportunities for divergent churches to discuss issues that divide them as equals, converging in their ecclesiologies around elements of a common Tradition. Examples come from Robeck’s involvement in the Catholic-Pentecostal, Reformed-Pentecostal, and Lutheran-Pentecostal dialogues.

In Chapter 5, Baker leverages Robeck’s Pentecostal identity and Patristics scholarship to understand his affinity with spiritual ecumenism. This method, which relies on shared spiritual practices, creates a bridge between Pentecostalism and other confessions, as Pentecostals also make claims of apostolicity based on the practice of charismatic gifts, not only in the New Testament but also in the Patristic period. Finally, Chapter 6 explores one of the newest ecumenical methodologies: Christian forums. Baker acknowledges Robeck’s central role in pioneering this methodology through the Global Christian Forum (GCF). The GCF was created as a common space for dialogue outside of existing church or ecumenical bodies, with at least half of the participants coming from non-WCC member churches. Informed by his Pentecostal heritage, Robeck proposed incorporating testimonies into the form. Although initially rejected, the GCF eventually adopted the practice. Baker finds that ecclesiological convergence in Christian forums occurs through testimonies, as the sharing of stories fosters recognition of the Christian other as a fellow believer.

A Visible Unity is excellently written and remarkably well-organized. Baker is meticulous in the way he structures each chapter and section, reinforcing his thesis at each seam of his argument. The result is a coherent and easy-to-follow presentation. The Introduction will be difficult for readers new to ecumenics due to its theoretical density. However, this is to be expected from a project that began as a dissertation. With many important definitions and distinctions, non-specialists will need to slow their pace before continuing to Chapter 1. After the Introduction, though, readers will notice that Baker’s prose lightens up considerably.

This is a novel contribution that centers the work of a Pentecostal ecumenist, a label some might consider a paradox. Although Baker does well to acknowledge this tension, he could have commented on additional reasons Pentecostals are averse to ecumenism, such as suspicions rooted in premillennial dispensational interpretations of apocalyptic passages in the Bible. This added background would not only help non-Pentecostal readers better understand prevalent Pentecostal attitudes toward ecumenism, but it would also help eschew broad-brushed assumptions about Pentecostals and their eschatology by showing that Robeck, though unabashedly classical Pentecostal, does not share those same suspicions. Still, the portrait Baker paints of Robeck sufficiently illuminates and nuances ecumenical and Pentecostal discourse. I recommend A Visible Unity to seminarians and specialists who are interested in ecumenics, Pentecostal studies, systematic theology, and missiology.

Reviewed by Jacob A. Palma

Publisher page: https://www.bloomsbury.com/us/visible-unity-9781978717206/

Discover more from Mel Robeck at PneumaReview.com

The title of Philip Esler’s New Testament Theology is ill-chosen. Although the book provides a good introduction to a number of aspects that qualify the task of writing a New Testament theology, the book itself is not a New Testament theology by any stretch. At most, it is a highly selective prolegomenon to the task of “doing” New Testament theology. That is not to say, however, that the book is not worthwhile to read—it is simply to say that readers will have to look elsewhere if they really want a New Testament theology.

One of the better features of this book is its discussion of the New Testament’s indebtedness to a dualistic anthropology, which is especially welcome in light of the current trend to argue that the New Testament’s anthropology is really fundamentally monistic. Esler exposes the shortcomings of the numerous attempts to sell readers on a monistic anthropology through a highly selective and tendentious reading of certain passages. (In the process, he also shows that Rene Descartes is not the extreme dualist he is often painted to be by today’s Enlightenment-bashers.)

Esler also steers clear of another trendy but misguided conceit when he affirms the intentionalist hermeneutic basic to the New Testament. But his chief argument in support of authorial intention, I think, is an unnecessary complication of what should be a much more straightforward task: he invokes the idea of the “communion of the saints” in order to say that we owe the “saints” enough respect to listen to what they intend (present tense), and not just what their texted artifacts can be made to say on the basis of a strong misreading. This is an intriguing argument, but it is rather circuitous and perhaps even costly in terms of commitments. Why not just say that we should look for what the author intended because the purpose of their writing in the first place was to convey an intention?

Reviewed by John C. Poirier

Originally published on the Pneuma Foundation (parent organization of PneumaReview.com) website. Later included in the Fall 2025 issue.

‘Preaching is the bringing of truth through personality,’ stated Phillips Brooks, the former rector of Trinity Church in Boston and later Episcopal bishop of Massachusetts who lived from 1835 to 1893, to the original listeners of his now famous lectures on preaching at Yale College.[1] Many preachers and homileticians have quoted his definition ever since. But what does it actually mean? Charles W. Fuller, pastor of Bethany Baptist Church in Louisville, Kentucky and adjunct professor of Expository Preaching at Boyce College of The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, examines Brooks’ sermons, lectures, and writings in an attempt to find out exactly.

The author forthrightly states the main thesis of his book in its introduction: “This book assesses, from an evangelical perspective, Brooks’s [sic] classic definition of preaching as ‘truth through personality’ and, after pinpointing its substantial weaknesses, salvages the concept by reconstructing it with solidly evangelical doctrines (p. xviii).

Though Fuller claims to write as an evangelical, the non-Calvinistic reader soon begins to wonder with what form of evangelicalism does the author identify himself? Since he serves as an adjunct professor Boyce College of The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, it seems safe to assume he alludes to those Calvinistic evangelicals who consider themselves the only true proclaimers of the pure unadulterated gospel of Jesus Christ. The Southern Baptist Seminary has become known in recent years as a bastion of high or five-point Calvinism. Since Brooks tended to lean away from high Calvinism, even to the point of questioning the teaching of what is now known as eternal security (a distinctive doctrine of the church Fuller pastors), this reviewer wonders if this is the reason Fuller accuses Brooks of unorthodoxy?

Over all, the book tends to be blatantly negative of Brooks, as the author frankly admits and laments. A major concern for Fuller is his belief that Brooks emphasized the importance of personality over truth. He alleges Brooks did so because of his less than evangelical theology, the influence of the teaching of evolution and higher criticism in his day, and his wide reading of philosophic Romantic literature. He especially takes exception to what he perceives as Brooks’ emphasis on Jesus’ example over His atonement.

Fuller contends three problems confront any academic study of Brooks: his popularity, his ambiguity, and his idealism (pp. xxi-xxii). Brooks was an immensely popular preacher in his day. By his own admission, Brooks felt he was at his best when he spoke in general rather than in specific terms.[2] And Brooks was a product of Romanticism to some extent with its emphasis on feelings over the facts of faith. But Fuller makes Brooks into more or less a liberal in his day. He does so by evaluating Brooks’ theology in four areas: biblicism, crucicentrism, conversionism, and activism (to use Fuller’s own categories). He finds Brooks deficient on every evangelical scale he proposes. He never seems to give Brooks the benefit of the doubt. He apparently finds little, if anything, to admire in the man or his ministry, although many people in Brooks’ own day felt decidedly positive toward him.

For instance, Fuller often quotes what appear to be clear affirmations of evangelical theology by Brooks only to turn right around and explain them away. This unusual methodology gives the impression Brooks could not do or say anything right in the mind of Fuller.

Robert Muthiah, professor of Practical Theology at Azusa Pacific University, differentiates independence from interdependence, which is held in theoretical tension with the concept of The Priesthood of All Believers. He develops his thesis by examining biblical evidences, trinitarian typology, church history, and the truth-claims of modernity; consequentially, he arrives at his postmodern conclusions. Muthiah argues that the New Testament does not provide for “the establishment of a separated ministerial priesthood” in order to illuminate the discrepancy in the hierarchal concepts of ecclesiology (17). Herein, he effectively illustrates common theories of pericoresis, making these abstract concepts readily understandable; thus, this parallel work compares with the “three color” concepts of Christian Schwarz (Natural Church Development, The Three Colors of Your Spirituality, The Three Colors of Ministry, The Three Colors of Love). Muthiah challenges long-held presuppositions of how-to-do church as he outlines significant theological and ecclesiastical considerations for the church in the twenty-first century.

Muthiah braids three strands into one thesis: the biblical conception of the Priesthood of All Believers from a Protestant perspective; the Anabaptist interpretation of ecclesiology; and the postmodern phenomena of individuality. Finding the common thread of independence in this gestalt of priesthood, ecclesial separatism, and postmodernism, Muthiah thus posited his counterbalancing corrective of responsible community. He finds that a healthy community to be the both the goal and the corrective to self-centered faith and action. Muthiah has written his book in a format that is academically logical and systematically cohesive, leading his reader step-by-step from his hypothesis to his conclusion. However, in the conclusion he confesses that there is much more pragmatic work to be done before the theory can become practice.

The book has the distinct cadence of an academic thesis, although I did not read or find written anywhere in the text or its introduction that it was indeed a dissertation. In this regard, the book is densely written in a few places, requiring determination to press through the weave of its own theories and the stitched together reviews of the theories of others. As a book reviewer, I emerged from the final pages of this book with a sense of interest, as to how the three strands of Muthiah’s thesis add a unique application biblical interpretation to the subject of the priesthood of all believers—applied to the postmodern context. However, I am not quite sure what to do with the information that Muthiah has woven together. The challenge of the Church is to embrace the perpetual renewing of the Spirit of God.

Reviewed by John R. Miller

Originally published on the Pneuma Foundation (parent organization of PneumaReview.com) website. Later included in the Summer 2025 issue.

Chad Tyler Gerber is Assistant Professor of Theology at Walsh University, USA. This book is part of the Ashgate Studies in Philosophy and Theology in Late Antiquity. The series focuses on major theologians from the patristic period as individuals immersed in their own culture. It somewhat uniquely aims to understand the convergence or divergence of pagan and Christian thought on issues addressed by both streams. Accordingly, it hopes to ascertain the true creativity of a particular author and to assess the abiding value of his thought for modern times. This text is serious theology so lay people or even many clergy may not find it easily palatable. However, teachers and advanced students of theology will definitely find it a rewarding and worthwhile read. Augustine is indisputably one of the giants of Christian thought, and Gerber offers a fresh and vigorous look at his pneumatology. That alone is cause for acclaim. Accordingly, those interested in patristic studies in general or in Augustine in particular as well as his pneumatology will benefit from The Spirit of Augustine’s Early Theology. I suspect Pentecostal and Charismatic theologians should be especially interested in the depths of Augustine’s theology of the Holy Spirit.

Gerber explains that “Augustine’s pneumatology remains one of his most distinctive, decisive, and ultimately divisive contributions” to Christian theology. Several questions guide Gerber’s work on this text. How did Augustine’s understanding of the Spirit develop? Why does he identify the Spirit with divine love and cosmic order? What were the sources of his inspiration? Gerber focuses on the early Augustine and his first writings in order to get at the seminal roots of his more mature thought. He is particularly interested in the Platonic influence on Augustine’s pneumatology and in the possibility of his continuing commitment to the divinity of the human soul. (In a brief appendix, Gerber sums up his argument that Augustine rejected the divinity of the soul; but, he suggests Augustine appropriated certain functions of the Plotinian Soul regarding the particularity of the Holy Spirit, especially his idea of the Spirit as the “ordinator” of the world.)

Following the contours of Augustine’s early writings and the locale of their construction, Gerber presents his material in four chapters. After a brief introduction, Chapter One on “Nicea and Neoplatonism” (386-87 AD) examines the influence of Nicea and Neoplatonism on the budding theologian’s early Trinitarian theology as he writes from Milan. Gerber concludes that “at bottom” Augustine’s early Trinitarian theology was “pro-Nicene” and also made use of “Plotinian triadology”. He suggests the early Augustine still had much to learn about both Neoplatonism and pro-Nicene theology; but, he had sufficiently grasped the central tenets of both in such as way as to understand and express his theology in terms that would remain essentially the same throughout his subsequent writings.

In Chapter Two, “The Soul of Plotinus and the Spirit of Nicea,” studying the Cassiciacum Dialogues (386-87 AD), Gerber gets to a more specific pneumatology and also to the delicate relation in Augustine between Plotinus’ philosophy and Nicene theology. Gerber suggests that Augustine’s more or less random invocations on pneumatology at this point nevertheless adhere to a consistent “redemptive-historical perspective in which God the Spirit leads fallen souls to God the Son.” Augustine is apparently influenced here by the New Testament and by patristic writings. The theme of “return” is also evident, and Plotinus appears to have provided “a psychological model of ascent” in which the soul’s salvation involves a vision of “archetypal Truth and a ‘return'” to God as “the ultimate source of all things” (although Romans 11:36 is key). Gerber, however, judges the material too scarce at this point to make sweeping conclusions about specific ideas concerning pneumatology and cosmic order.

He has been called a boring windbag who “…deliberately sets out to be tortuous.”[1] Philip Yancy acknowledges that at times his writings have perplexed him.[2]

They are speaking about the Danish philosopher Soren Kierkegaard, whom many have call the Father of Existentialism, although he did not coin the term.

In his book, Philosophy & The Christian Faith, Colin Brown writes that “Kierkegaard deliberately sets out to be tortuous and…in order to bring his reader to the desired goal, Kierkegaard often found it necessary to be devious.”[3]

The author of over 35 books, Soren Kierkegaard’s (1813-1855) writings were mostly ignored outside of his native Denmark until the 20th century.

Anna Louise Strelis Söderquist, St. Olaf College curator of the Hong Kierkegaard Library argues that “Kierkegaard’s work still has burning relevance for us today, wherever we live and whatever our backgrounds, for he meets his reader in the inner depths, where reside the personal, yet universal questions about who one is and how one ought to live.”[4]

Kierkegaard (1813-1855) was a devout Christian who was grieved over the condition of the Lutheran church in Denmark, the State Church.

Shelley O’Hara writes, “Kierkegaard was incensed by the lack of involvement it took to be a Christian, and he felt that Official Christianity or Christendom had departed so far from the New Testament teachings that it needed to be torn down and rebuilt…Kierkegaard…was not attacking the teachings of Christianity, but the official way it was sanctioned and carried out by the Lutheran Church at the time.”[5]

His anger was so great toward the Lutheran Church he refused communion while on his death bed.

If you have read or attempted to read Kierkegaard you know that he can be a difficult read and one may wonder if it would be beneficial to read his works.

One would benefit greatly by reading Lee C. Barrett’s (PhD, Yale) instructive book Kierkegaard as Theologian. As Professor of Theology, at Lancaster Theological Seminary at Moravian University, he has written extensively on Kierkegaard including several books and articles.

What makes this book so instructive and helpful, especially for those new to the philosopher’s writings? Before reading selections from Kierkegaard, Barrett summarizes the text in great detail, making Kierkegaard’s writings much easier to understand.

The texts that Barrett’s comments on are several of Kierkegaard’s more familiar writings, including For Self-Examination, Judge For Yourself, Either/Or, The Sickness Unto Death, and Fear and Trembling, among others.

He also explains Kierkegaard’s theological style:

Kierkegaard’s work as an exercise in theology requires some explanation and justification, for Kierkegaard’s writings do not resemble anything remotely like a collection of standard theological texts. If he counts as a theologian at all, he certainly was not a typical one.[6]

At the end of every chapter Barrett supplies questions for reflection, which may prove helpful to readers as they digest and savor what both Kierkegaard and Barrett are saying. It is certainly not a book to rush through.

Barrett’s book simply titled Kierkegaard (Abingdon Press) is another helpful read to understanding Kierkegaard’s writings.

Reviewed by Larry Russi

Publisher’s page: https://www.bloomsbury.com/us/tt-clark-reader-in-kierkegaard-as-theologian-9780567670373/

Notes

[1] Colin Brown, Philosophy & The Christian Faith (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press,1968),125

[2] Søren Kierkegaard, Provocations: Spiritual Writings of Kierkegaard (Farmington, PA: The Plough Publishing House, 1999, back cover

[3] Colin Brown, Philosophy & The Christian Faith (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press,1968),125

[4] Claire Strother, “A World-Renowned Center for the Study of Kierkegaard” St. Olaf Magazine (Spring/Summer 2022), 23.

[5] Shelley O’Hara, Kierkegaard Within Your Grasp (Hoboken, NJ: Wiley, 2004), 6

[6]Lee C. Barrett, ed. T & T Clark Reader in Kierkegaard as Theologian (NY: Bloomsbury, 2018), 1