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/

The book consists of Acknowledgments, five chapters, thirteen excurses, varied notes, selected bibliography, and detailed indexes of subjects, ancient names, modern authors and ancient sources.

Chapter titles include: “The Emergence of the Spirit: Recasting Exodus”, “The Essence of the Spirit: Retelling Exodus”, “The Absence of the Spirit: Recalling Exodus”, “The Assurance of the Spirit: Rekindling Exodus”, and “The Significance of the Spirit: Rediscovering Exodus”. Each chapter brings a varied and deep-well resource for the study of pneumatology.

This work offers detailed, personable, opinionated, and indispensable tedious research. From his descriptions of German theologian Hans Leisagang and more to his Greek or Jewish tracing of the origins of historical pneumatology, you’ll find detailed promise of the divine presence of God. The weight of God’s glory is depicted through Israel’s birth and early years. Pillars and angels, Clouds and fire are described as leading the Israelites to outpace the Egyptians. While God’s presence is described as durable, unshakable, and reliable.

Levison’s description of the Babylonian exile offers intriguing storylines where the Spirit is an active agent in cross-cultural contexts.  He offers rich parallels of Moses and Ezekiel, Jeremiah, Zechariah and more with concepts of the Spirit of God 1) rushing upon, 2) pouring over, and 3) resting upon individuals.

Jack Levison holds the W.J.A. Power Chair of Old Testament Interpretation and Biblical Hebrew at Perkins School of Theology, Southern Methodist University. Levison was raised in New York, attended Wheaton College, received an MA at Cambridge University, and pursued his doctoral studies at Duke University. Faculty page.

He offers a unique study of consequences regarding modern assessments of early Judaism including a discourse of NT Wright’s deep appreciation for the contributions of 2^nd Temple Judaism and Shekinah Glory’s indwelling presence. He proclaims clearly, the Spirit is active now.

Levison ends this work with thirteen brief two to four page excurses. An excursus (from Latin excurrere, ‘to run out of’) is a short outbreak or narration in a work of literature. Excursuses often have little to do with subject matter discussed by the work, used to lighten or add insight to the story. He does it with brilliance.

Reviewed by Joseph S. Girdler

Publisher’s page: https://www.baylorpress.com/9781481310031/the-holy-spirit-before-christianity/

New Testament readers are all too familiar with the concept of judiazers, those who attempt to force Christians into following the rituals and traditions of Jewish Orthodoxy. How surprising then, to find a title that attempts to judiaze Jesus, to focus on his doctrines through a traditional Jewish lens.

That is exactly what Judaizing Jesus does in one short but remarkable read.

First, it is important to note that the author and researcher, Juan Marcos Bejarano Gutierrez is a traditional rabbi and does not acknowledge Jesus as Messiah. To be clear, this is not a Christian book.

What Judaizing Jesus does is it provides you with a concise history of how Judaism has perceived Christianity – and to a lesser degree Jesus – throughout the ages. It brings to light Jewish thought about Gentiles as represented in the Talmud, then follows up with the changes that occurred during the Christian expansion in the Medieval, Renaissance, and the Modern eras.

Once Christianity became the state-recognized faith of Rome, relations between the church and Jewish communities became tense. But Rome went from a pagan empire—that is to say, a polytheistic culture—and transformed into a monotheistic one. The rabbis, particularly in Rome, took note and some came to see Christianity’s faith in a unified godhead as not exactly acceptable, but no longer pagan, either. This, of course, was a minority view.

Time passed and along came Islam, a second religion insisting on the unity of God. From the Jewish perspective, the world was becoming less pagan – more monotheistic – due to Christianity and Islam’s influence, meaning they could enter into business relationships with monotheists.

Still, this was a minority opinion, but a growing one, as Jewish communities in the European diaspora needed trade to survive, and other professions were often prohibited to them. Jewish tradition prohibits merchants from entering into business with pagans, so from a religious perspective, Christianizing the world had a positive impact on Jewish/Christian relations, at least where commerce was concerned.

But of spiritual relevance, the book is dotted with insights, such as this one from Rabbi Abraham Farissol of Ferrara, Italy (1451–1528). “Where Farissol departed from the standard Jewish response was his insistence that Jesus and his disciples of the first generation were devout followers of the Torah” (p. 76). Given the theological chasm that divided Christianity and Judaism, such a statement likely came as a surprise to both camps in the 15th and 16th Centuries.

He also notes that, “Astonishingly, Rabbi Farissol’s radical innovation was his willingness to posit the possibility that Jesus was, in fact, the messiah. He had undeniably come for the Gentiles” (p.79), and, “Let us concede that their messiah [Jesus] is indeed a messiah for them….” (p.80).

Gutierrez also quotes Rabbi Simeon ben Zemah (1361–1444) on Paul and Acts 28:17–18: “when one of the Apostles was brought to Rome, bound in chains, he called to the Jews who were there and said to them that he had not done anything against the Jews and that he did not differ at all with their ancestral custom. He also said that the Jews of Jerusalem had not found in him anything deserving of the death penalty. And had he differed with the Torah, he would have been deserving of the death penalty. And similarly, he wrote in one of his books that he believes in everything which is in the Torah” (p.79). Again, likely a surprise to both Christians and contemporary Jewish scholars.

A few pages later comes a remarkable admission from a rabbi that is not messianic, “It was not God who took on human form. Jesus was instead an emanation of God that became human” (p.86).

Gutierrez’s book is 60% content and 40% footnotes, so everything is meticulously sourced should you wish to do further research.

Judaizing Jesus shares the dark side of Christian behavior as well, but there are sufficient snippets of historical perspectives on Jesus and the Christian faith to make one pause and think, as any good book should.

Reviewed by Kevin Williams

Magnus Zetterholm, ed., The Messiah in Early Judaism and Christianity (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2007), xxvii + 163 pages, ISBN 9780800621087.

The Messiah in Early Judaism and Christianity presents the papers read at a meeting at Lund University in 2006. Three of the essayists are from Sweden, while the other two flew in from Yale University. In spite of the specialist nature of this type of meeting, most readers should find the papers broadly accessible. The essays in this book should speak directly to anyone who has wondered about the meaning of the term “messiah”. Although the subject is one that requires a thorough knowledge of biblical and postbiblical apocalyptic writings, the essays are written in such a way that the beginning student of NT backgrounds will understand everything and learn much. Although there is a time and place for making arcane points, many readers will be relieved to learn that one does not find that type of deliberation here. Beginners will especially get a lot out of the first essay, written by one of the world’s foremost experts on the subject of messianism (John J. Collins). Collins shows that the idea of the messiah was not eschatological in the Old Testament, but that it became so within second-temple Judaism.

Other contributions are by Adela Yarbro Collins (on “The Messiah as Son of God in the Synoptic Gospels”), Magnus Zetterholm (on “Paul and the Missing Messiah”), Karin Hedner-Zetterholm (on “Elijah and the Messiah as Spokesmen of Rabbinic Ideology”), and Jan-Eric Steppa (on “The Reception of Messianism and the Worship of Christ in the Post-Apostolic Church”). All of the essays are clear and written with a firm grasp of the facts surrounding the issue. As the reader can see, three of the five essays deal directly with the Christian aspect of messianism. There are many books that give a fuller treatment of messianism, but at only 163 pages, this book deserves pride of place for what it packs into a somewhat slim paperback.

Reviewed by John Poirier