A 2-day conference to be held at the British School at Rome, 25-26 October 2018.
Those interested in sending a paper proposal should find details here.
Deadline for proposals: 18 February 2018
A 2-day conference to be held at the British School at Rome, 25-26 October 2018.
Those interested in sending a paper proposal should find details here.
Deadline for proposals: 18 February 2018
Gary S. Selby, Not with Wisdom of Words: Nonrational Persuasion in the New Testament (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2016). 187pp. (Amazon)
Gary Selby’s book Not with Wisdom of Words seeks to show how Paul tries to rhetorically persuade the audience of his letters through the use of rhetorical techniques that are “non-rational.” He situates his book in the stream of rhetorical criticism of the New Testament but argues that this approach has tended to be too “rationalistic” by focusing on the particular features of “rational” argument (3–6). Instead, Selby’s book examines how “the poetic texts of the NT represent the attempts of early Christian writers to create . . . numinous experiences for their audience” (16).
Chapter one gives an overview of the classical rhetorical theory of non-rational persuasion. Selby sets up a contrast between Aristotle’s deliberative account of rhetoric—the end of which is a judgment via proofs and enthymemes—and Aristotle’s poetics—the end of which is an emotional response via imitation (μίμησις). “Poetic discourse,” Selby summarizes, “afforded its hearers an opportunity, in a moment of imaginative transcendence, actually to experience the conviction, perspective, aspiration, or event that it represented” (29). Selby explores this further by looking at Gorgias’s Encomium of Helen and (pseudo) Longinus’s On the Sublime which present μίμησις as having the power to bring before the audiences’ mind things not present by activating φαντασία (mental images). In the church, Selby argues, poetics is more appropriate because the audience is not called to a judgment but to faith (25).
The main body of the book, chapters two through five, explore four NT passages (1 Thessalonians 4:13–18; Romans 7:14–25; 1 Corinthians 1:3–14; Ephesians 1:3–14, respectively) that Selby argues exhibits this type of use of non-rational presentation through vivid language to supplement or encapsulate the broader argument of each epistle. Each chapter addresses the context of the epistle and how these poetic passages fit within their respective contexts and what they are intended to produce.
Chapters six and seven explore the implications of Selby’s rhetorical/poetic analysis of μίμησις. Chapter six focuses on the how μίμησις transports the audience from listeners on the outside who relate to content in more rational ways (e.g., accepting or rejecting the argument) to being in the content. The audience, then, is “not simply being asked to believe that something was the case. Rather, in that moment the hearers experience those realities as if they were present reality. In that imaginative moment, faith was caught up in sight” (140–41). Chapter seven then looks at how this process also bypasses the question of the speaker’s/writer’s credibility (the author “disappears”) and creates unity in a community by creating a shared experience. Finally, Selby’s concluding chapter looks at further implications for understanding early Christian persuasion.
Overall I think Selby has put his finger on an important aspect of early Christian persuasion and his push to broaden the nature of rhetorical criticism of the New Testament is to be commended. That being said, I think there are two ways his argument could be made stronger. The first is to offer a more nuanced account of what rationality would have been in antiquity. For the most part, Selby’s use of “non-rational” seems more indebted to modern accounts of rationality and emotion than to classical accounts. The most obvious counter-example would be the Stoics who defined emotions as a false judgment. Even Aristotle thinks that emotions involve a perception of an apparent good or bad, meaning there is some kind of rational content (e.g., “this is good”) upon which emotions are based, even if rational arguments are absent. More so, even non-rational πάθος has a function to play in Aristotle’s rhetoric beyond mere style (e.g, Rhetoric 2.1, 1378a19–22). But Selby offers little nuance for how to demarcate rational and non-rational/emotional. On his account, rhetoric is rational because it focuses on λόγος, poetics is non-rational because it focuses on πάθος. While this distinction is perhaps heuristically useful, it paints a distorted picture of what classical authors—including New Testament authors—actually thought about emotions, arguments, and the cognitive process (about which he says nothing).
The second way Selby’s argument could be made stronger—and this is admittedly more pedantic—is if he provided a more nuanced account of φαντασία. Φαντασία is an important term in classical accounts of cognition as well as in rhetoric. Indeed, shortly after Paul, there was much discussion amongst writers in the Second Sophistic about the nature of φαντασία and concepts of the divine in writers like Dio Chrysostom, Maximus of Tyre, and Philostratus. In Selby, however, φαντασία is merely defined as a capacity to visualize. This is to conflate three distinct things: φαντασία, ἐνάργεια, and ἔκφρασις. Φαντασία can either be the images stored in the memory from past experience or a quasi-capacity of the soul to retain (stamp) sensation on the soul, ἐνάργεια is vivid description, and ἔκφρασις is the technique of bringing something absent to the mind of the audience through words. An ἔκφρασις is brought about through ἐνάργεια that manipulates φαντασία stored in the mind of the audience. These concepts are not clearly distinguished in Sebly’s account and are instead conflated into φαντασία which is sometimes made synonymous with μίμησις. This is particularly interesting because author’s like Dio Chrysostom and Philostratus both speak at length about the superiority of φαντασία to μίμησις using the example of Phidias’s statue of Zeus. Those in the plastic arts like Phidias rely on μίμησις because they need the archetype present for them to imitate, but one who speaks can harness φαντασία to create new images of what has never been seen before. However, I do not want to sound like I am criticizing Selby for the book he did not write. As I said, I think Selby has put his finger on an important part of classical rhetoric that deserves to be explored, but I think there are more aspects of the rhetorical tradition that could fill out a picture of the nature of what Selby labels “non-rational” persuasion.
Friday, March 24th
•Beth Felker Jones (Wheaton): “Shaping the eschatological imagination”
•Bernard McGinn (University of Chicago): “Augustine’s Attack on Apocalypticism”
•Brent Waters (Garrett-Evangelical Seminary): “Ethics as if there was Hell to Pay: Living this Life in Light of the Afterlife”
•Marcus Plested (Marquette University): “Palamas on the Eschatological State”
•Thomas McCall (Trinity Evangelical Divinity School): “De Regnum Immobile: A Theological Interpretation of Hebrews 12”
•Cyril O’Regan (University of Notre Dame): “Eschatology: Theological Poetics and the Rules of Iconic Extension”
7:30–9:00 Public Lecture
•“Historical Memory and the Eschatological Vision of God’s Glory in Irenaeus”
Khaled Anatolios (University of Notre Dame)
***FREE AND OPEN TO THE PUBLIC***
Saturday, March 25th
•Rita George-Trvtkovic (Benedictine University): “Apologia for Heaven in Medieval Christian Polemics against Islam”
•Paul L. Gavrilyuk (University of St. Thomas): “Universal Salvation in Pavel Florensky and Sergius Bulgakov”
•Keith Starkenburg (Trinity Christian College): “How to Say That the Creation Is Resurrected: God’s Glory between I Corinthians 15 and Revelation 21 and 22
•Jeanne-Nicole Saint-Laurent (Marquette): “Enslaved Saints and the Eschaton”
•Brian Daley SJ (Notre Dame): “The Character of the Risen Body according to Gregory of Nyssa and Augustine”
•Gregory Lee (Wheaton): “’Even Our Thoughts Will Be Made Open to Each Other’: Augustinian Speculations on Eschatological Mediation”
SEATING IS LIMITED! If you are interested in attending, please send an email to firstname.lastname@example.org
Review by Matthew Monkemeier
Irons, Charles Lee. The Righteousness of God: A Lexical Examination of the Covenant-Faithfulness Interpretation. WUNT 2.386. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2015.
Very few word-groups are as consequential for how we understand Paul as the “righteousness” (δικ-) word-group, and very few phrases are as consequential for how we understand Paul as the phrase “righteousness of God” (δικαιοσύνη θεοῦ). Wildly-divergent interpretations of Paul turn on subtle differences in our understanding of that phrase. It is surprising, therefore, that until recently the latest book-length investigation of “righteousness” language in Paul was J. A. Ziesler’s 1972 monograph. There have been some significant developments in scholarship on Paul since then, some significant new questions about Paul’s world and his writings, and some significant new meanings attributed to the phrase “righteousness of God.” In light of this, there has for some time now been a need for a comprehensive survey of this language that would put some of these claims to the test.
Charles Lee Irons’s recently-published revision of his Fuller dissertation, The Righteousness of God: A Lexical Examination of the Covenant-Faithfulness Interpretation, more than fills that need. It is essentially a monograph-length word-study, albeit of a very important word. And its purpose is to subject the “Hebraic, relational” understanding of “righteousness,” which Irons traces back to Hermann Cremer’s 1899 German monograph and argues is one of the three “pillars” of the New Perspective, to critical lexical scrutiny.
In chapter 1, Irons traces the history of interpretation of δικαιοσύνη θεοῦ in Paul, arguing that pre-modern interpreters both before and after the Reformation were in general agreement that the “righteousness of God” in Paul is the righteous status that comes from and counts before God. It was not until the nineteenth century that scholars such as Diestel and Ritschl, who sought to eliminate any notions of God’s punitive or judicial actions, suggested meanings such as God’s “gracious purpose toward his chosen people” for “righteousness of God.” But it was through the work of Cremer, who argued for such a meaning on the basis of the claim that “righteousness” was a Hebrew concept that was distinctly relational, that this view entered the mainstream of biblical scholarship. The remainder of the chapter traces Cremer’s influence through several streams of twentieth-century interpretation. This chapter alone is quite an achievement, and I found myself very grateful for this comprehensive and yet manageable summary of such a long and complex discussion.
In chapter 2, Irons sets out his methodological considerations. He first draws a distinction between a lexical concept (the sense that a word has apart from its use in context) and a discourse concept (the more specific referent of a word used in context), suggesting that to read discourse concepts back into lexical concepts is to commit James Barr’s “illegitimate totality transfer.” Next, he critiques the use of Hebrew parallelism as source of lexical study, drawing on recent work to suggest that words are rarely fully synonymous with their parallels: hyponyms (one word is an example or type of another word) are just as likely to be used in parallel as synonyms. He then engages recent discussion about the potential of the Septuagint to mediate the transfer senses of Hebrew words to Greek words that consistently translate those Hebrew words, suggesting that the test for such a transfer (a calque) is the use of a Greek word with such a “Hebrew” meaning in Jewish literature originally composed in Greek.
Chapters 3–5 are the core of the study, as Irons surveys “righteousness” language in extra-biblical Greek (chapter 3), in the Old Testament (chapter 4), and in Second-Temple Jewish literature (chapter 5). Chapter 3 is particularly helpful, as Irons finds many motifs commonly associated with Old Testament “righteousness” (righteousness as demonstrated through law-observance, as referring to judicial action, as given from the gods, as expressed in relationships, as expressed through fulfillment of contractual or covenantal obligations, etc.) in extra-biblical Greek texts. This decisively undermines any notion of a contrast between “Greek” and “Hebrew” thought; but it also provides warrant for understanding how “discourse concepts” expressed in the Hebrew text would remain comprehensible—and therefore expressible—in Greek. Chapter 4 is remarkable for its comprehensiveness: every use of “righteousness” is catalogued, and a representative sample are discussed. Irons argues that “righteousness of God” in the Old Testament is always God’s distributive justice (meaning his fairness in rewarding good and punishing evil), even in those instances where this “righteousness” results in salvation for God’s people: in those instances God is exercising his distributive justice against Israel’s oppressors or saving / justifying Israel in a “righteous” way by making atonement for sins. Chapter 5 then surveys “righteousness” language in post-biblical Jewish writings, whether written in Hebrew (the Dead Sea Scrolls and Apocrypha and OT Pseudepigrapha composed in Hebrew) or Greek (Apocrypha, OT Pseudepigrapha, and Other Hellenistic Jewish Writings, as well as the New Testament other than Paul). He finds that the Dead Sea Scrolls have the greatest degree of continuity with OT usage, but that most other Jewish writings use “righteousness” to mean ordinary ethical righteousness that counts before God. He does find limited use of “God’s righteousness” to refer to God’s saving justice, but he argues that here (as in the OT) it is nevertheless a subset of God’s distributive justice.
Chapter 6 turns to “righteousness” language in Paul. Irons first critiques the “covenant faithfulness” view and then the “saving activity or power” view before positively arguing that all occurrences of “righteousness of God” in Paul that do not refer to God’s distributive justice (Rom 3:5, 25, 26) refer to the gift of righteousness from God. He suggests that the lexeme δικαιοσύνη has the sense of “righteousness before God” on its own, and that the genitive θεοῦ therefore indicates the source of that righteousness. This means that the “righteousness from God” is also the “righteousness from faith,” as the consistent use of “faith” language indicates (Rom 1:17; 3:21, 22; 10:3–4; 2 Cor 5:21 [implied]; Phil 3:9—see p. 321). In other words, for Paul God’s own righteousness is always his justice that punishes sin and rewards righteousness. But he also freely gives the status of “righteous” to those who put their faith in Jesus (as he understands πίστις Χριστοῦ). Finally, the parallels between Phil 3:9 (where “righteousness” is clearly from God, ἐκ θεοῦ) and Rom 10:3 indicate that the same referent is in view, and therefore this is the referent for that language in Rom 3:21 and 1:17.
Chapter 7 summarizes the argument and its conclusions: Cremer is “decisively disproven” (339); the OT saving righteousness is “judicial activity with saving results” (340); Paul’s teaching on justification is therefore a polemic against “the nomistic theology of Judaism” (340); the relationship between God and humans is established by and therefore follows God’s judicial act of justification (341–42); and justification itself is how humans get “righteous before the divine tribunal” (342–43). Recent currents in Pauline studies are therefore misguided, and we may return to the traditional Protestant interpretation of Paul.
This is an essential study that all subsequent work on “righteousness” in Paul will have to take into account. At the very least, Irons takes to task many who have argued for an “Old Testament” or “Biblical” or “Jewish” meaning for “righteousness” without explaining how such a transfer of meaning could occur. Even more than that, he succeeds in adding considerable lexical support to the traditional Protestant interpretation of “righteousness” in Paul. This work is a strong challenge to those who continue to see “God’s righteousness” as God’s faithfulness or God’s salvation-creating power.
It is a challenge that could be answered, though, since I do not think that Irons disproves Cremer and those who followed in his wake as “decisively” as he claims.
First, I think Irons overstates the importance of the “lexical sense” of this word for understanding its use. It is true that many arguments for understanding Paul’s use of “righteousness” language in light of its use in the OT do not adequately distinguish between sense and referent, between lexical concepts and discourse concepts. But, if they had made this distinction, are we sure they would have argued for a modification of the lexical sense of the word? Is a calque the only way for OT “meaning” to transfer to NT usage? Is it possible for words to retain their lexical senses and yet refer to discourse concepts from other texts? This is especially the case once we talk about the righteousness of God, since this is not merely a lexeme with a particular sense but a phrase that refers to a particular attribute of a particular being. Put another way, if the OT seems to say something unique about God’s righteousness, is it altering the lexical sense of “righteousness” or saying something unique about Israel’s God? If the latter, why would later texts need words with altered lexical senses in order to refer to that unique attribute of God?
Second, Irons’s claim that all occurrences of “God’s righteousness” in the OT must refer to God’s distributive-judicial righteousness results in some implausible interpretations of key OT texts. For example, Irons claims that the revelation of God’s righteousness in Ps 98:2 must refer to the fact that “God will reveal his righteousness and his salvation by judging the Babylonians who took his people into exile” (187). But then it is odd that this aspect of God’s saving action is never elsewhere mentioned in Psalm 98: the psalm focuses exclusively on the salvation of Israel and does not mention Israel’s enemies at all. Moreover, insisting that these judgments that result in Israel’s salvation are a subset of God’s distributive justice suggests that Israel as a whole is somehow deserving of such a verdict. If that is the case, what do we do with appeals to God’s righteousness that explicitly deny such prior human righteousness? Irons sees the cry of Ps 143:1 that God would answer the psalmist “in your righteousness” even though “no one living is righteous before you” (v. 2) as a cry for God “to deliver him from his foes by a judicial act of righteousness, that is, by vindicating him against his enemies” (188, cf. 307). But what exactly is being vindicated? The psalmist’s own righteousness? He has just denied that he (or anyone) is righteous. Or is it his identity as God’s servant who trusts in the God who is committed to him? This is more likely (hence the appeal for God to act “on behalf of your name” in v. 11), but then we are deep into the “covenantal” territory that Irons insists is foreign to God’s righteousness. Ultimately, Irons succeeds in showing that many instances of “righteousness” language in the OT can be understood in a judicial or ethical sense without appealing to a “relational” or “covenantal” meaning (even many, such as Gen 38:26, that have often been cited as evidence to the contrary). But the handful of instances in which such an understanding of “God’s righteousness” results in a rather implausible interpretation of the text call into question the claim that “God’s righteousness” always refers to some aspect of God’s distributive justice.
Finally, we should point out that Irons’s methodology does not leave much room for the possibility of OT texts influencing the meaning of Paul’s writings. Reacting against a possible over-estimation of such influence among those (such as Hays and Wagner) who find OT allusions exerting strong hermeneutic pressure on Paul (301–306), Irons suggests rather that this influence goes the other way, that we should interpret “righteousness of God” in the OT in light of its usage in Paul (308). Paul must be interpreted independently, and only then can we move to the question of how this agrees with or does not agree with the OT (311). But, while we agree that Paul re-reads the OT in light of the Christ-event and therefore must be allowed his own hermeneutic creativity and originality, he nevertheless claims that the OT is where this same gospel is “promised beforehand” (1:2) and where the “righteousness of God” receives its witness (3:21). The OT is thus to some extent partially constitutive of the Christ-event, and therefore to some extent constitutive of Paul’s gospel. Does it determine the meaning of “righteousness of God” in Paul? Certainly not lexically, as many have seemingly claimed and as Irons has decisively disproven. But conceptually? That possibility should at least remain open.
Thanks to Mohr Siebeck for providing a review copy of this book.
Sage School of Philosophy, Cornell University
Ithaca, United States
Call for Papers
The Hope and Optimism Initiative (Cornell/Notre Dame) invites submissions for a 3-day workshop on the theme ‘The Nature and Norms of Hope’ to be held on April 27-29, 2017 at Cornell University.
Papers should be on hope, despair, and related themes, including how they bear on social/political philosophy, moral philosophy, psychology and philosophy of religion. Submissions should be anonymized and take the form of a 500-750 word abstract. Accepted papers should be suitable for approximately 40 minute presentations. Authors selected will be offered travel and housing for the workshop.
Invited speakers include:
Deadline for submission: January 27th, 2017
Email abstracts to: email@example.com. In the body of the e-mail, please include the following information:
1. Paper title
2. Author’s name
3. Institutional affiliation
4. Contact e-mail address and phone number
Click here for more details.
Kevin Timpe (Calvin College) and Christian B. Miller (Wake Forest U.) are directing the Graduate Student Cross-Training Fellowship Program in which the successful applicant will receive a year’s stipend of $30,000 intended to equip graduate student members of the Society of Christian Philosophers with an opportunity to take up to one academic year to develop competency in an empirical science connected with their research.
Details can be found here.
Thomas H. McCall, An Invitation to Analytic Christian Theology (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2015. 192 pp. $22.00 (paperback)
Kevin W. Wong, Wheaton College
Too often earnest theological inquiry cannot even begin since participants are deadlocked over methodological matters, prompting many to simply skip over it. Yet, we must, from time to time, take a step back and re-examine our methods and approaches to ensure we have not deceived ourselves into begging the question on important matters, especially if that method and approach is complex.
Thomas McCall takes on such a challenge with his new book, An Invitation to Analytic Christian Theology. Although analytic theology (hereafter: AT) has enjoyed technical and sophisticated defenses—most notably the contributions in Rea and Crisp’s edited collection, McCall supplies what they are lacking in two respects: simplification of technical prose for the non-specialist (i.e. translation for the non-analytics) and making explicit what was only implied (i.e. how does analytic theology relate to historical theology and tradition?). So, while McCall’s book has great overlap with said collection, it also provides a new angle and new material for a new audience.
The book’s structure is simple and clear. The first chapter clarifies what AT is by providing an initial portrait. That portrait is subsequently filled out in the next three chapters by describing AT’s relationship with other aspects of the Christian religion. The final chapter clarifies what the motivation is for scholars to engage in AT.
In chapter one, McCall characterizes what AT is and is not. After a brief historical sketch, McCall describes AT as conducting constructive theological inquiry by employing the style, ambition, and conceptual tools of analytic philosophy. Though clearly sharing the same tools as analytic philosophy, McCall insists that it is a different craft with a different product: It is theology, not philosophy thinly disguised as theology. Such a fusion could, however, lend to a faulty understanding which McCall tries to quell. Some of those misunderstandings include AT relying upon an univocity of religious language, being only natural theology, being done in ignorance of historical theology, and being merely apologetics.
Chapters two and three share similar structures where McCall briefly surveys AT’s relationship with that other aspect of the Christian religion and then explore a case study or two for how that relationship is enacted. Chapter two focuses on AT’s relationship with Christian scripture, correcting the misconception that AT is strictly philosophical theology stemming from a minimalist monotheism, the sort of intellectual exercise that can be done equally by a Muslim or a Jew as it is by a Christian. And while there is a place for such an endeavor, Christian AT is not that, relying instead upon the set of books that set us apart from our Muslim and Jewish counterparts. More than just relying upon the Bible as though it was a poor delivery vehicle to be discarded after siphoning out the theological core, AT intends to be faithful to the Bible in multiple ways, from analyzing biblically derived concepts to being consistent with the deliverances of the Bible. The case study for this chapter is D. A. Carson’s argument for compatibilism as a case study where biblical data may appear to imply one view, when further analysis may yield an opposite but equally compelling interpretation of the very same texts.
Relatedly, McCall characterizes AT as in dialogue with Christian history and tradition in chapter three, distinguishing AT from a bare monotheistic philosophical theology still further. This is a much-needed chapter since, as mentioned above, it was only implied in the Rea and Crisp reader. When looking through Rea and Crisp’s table of contents, one may notice tradition being conspicuously absent in the section concerning data for theology. Here, McCall shows that AT can be a form of retrieval theology—that is, a theology constructed from the ideas and concepts of our forebears. Retrieval theology is not regurgitation, but rather appropriation, translation, and application (and perhaps even updating) of the thoughts of Christian thinkers before us. The case studies that McCall provides are several instances of analytic Christology meant to explicate the Chalcedonian Formulation, including two of my favorite—the Two-Minds view by Thomas Morris and the physicalist Incarnation by Trenton Merricks.
In a surprising reversal, chapter four inverts the structure of the previous two chapters, beginning with a case study and then exploring its implications on AT’s relationship with the Church and the rest of the world. With the historical Adam controversy serving as the case study, McCall looks into options for how AT might assist constructive theology that navigates the delicate balance between faithfulness to Christian tradition and still informed by and engaged with other means of human knowledge, specifically science for this case. McCall then concludes the book in general and this chapter in particular with an observation that AT could grow by engaging in a wider range of topics than it has been and by engaging with global theology.
In the fifth and final chapter, McCall reminds his reader that a true theology, analytic or otherwise, is one prompted by love for God and in service to the world. To that end, McCall makes several suggestions of how AT could interface with other notable movements and aspects of the theological endeavor.
As is to be expected by any book by McCall, its virtues are many and its vices are few. First, it lives up to its name: It is an invitation! Other works have not done as well in trying to appeal to non-analytics. If the Rea and Crisp reader can be thought of as a supercar like a Bugatti Veyron, then McCall’s book is surely a muscle car like a Chevy Camaro: Although it does not perform at such a high caliber that is demanding even upon skilled veteran drivers, it is a worthy entry-level vehicle that can get those interested in speed and performance quickly addicted and still requires skill to operate.
Second, McCall gracefully navigates the interdisciplinary and multicultural dialogues. Earlier iterations of philosophical theology did not seem particularly welcoming of biblical studies or historical theology. If McCall’s book is any indication of where the movement is going, especially in the case studies, then I think that awkward phase is coming to an end, if not already at a close. If one is still unconvinced of how AT can robustly interact with other disciplines, then I invite that one to read McCall’s other works (one of my favorite being Forsaken). Further, AT is sometimes seen as a peculiarly Anglophone phenomenon, and thus has limited utility for cross-cultural purposes. A colleague of mine (who shall remain safely anonymous) captured this impression well when he bemoaned that AT sounded culturally imperialistic. So I am glad that McCall directly addressed that worry, wishing for dialogue rather than domination. Just as the Western philosophical guild is dialoguing more with Chinese and Indian philosophy, so too do I think that AT will do more cross-cultural engagement, especially with the likes of McCall encouraging and prompting us to do so.
Third, McCall’s take on AT is an especially helpful contrast (perhaps corrective?) to other characterizations. His final chapter arguing for any theology being worthy of its name must prompt the practitioner toward love of God and service to others. This is important since one may have the impression that the analytic tradition is rather cold and clinical. This is not an unjustified impression given the history of analytic philosophy. Even some among contemporary analytic theologians seem hesitant for AT to produce wise living (e.g. pages 18–19 in Rea’s introductory essay in his reader with Crisp). McCall wants
The shortcomings of McCall’s book are not in the least fatal to the overall quality of the book, but they still ought to be considered. First, I had mixed feelings about the case studies. It is not my goal to assess whether McCall’s summaries and evaluations of positions in the case studies are accurate or insightful (though I think they mostly are), but rather how he uses them to further his book’s thesis. Although McCall only meant for readers to get their feet wet with the case studies, readers can potentially find themselves alternating between frolicking and thrashing. That is, on the one hand, some of the issues McCall raises are tantalizing, drawing the reader in and inspiring them for further research, but on the other the use of analytic apparatus might be alienating. For example, McCall’s analysis of D. A. Carson’s argument for a biblical compatibilism is definitely something many Christians are interested in. Who hasn’t wondered about how divine sovereignty and human free will work? The section was clear and careful. Yet, McCall also employs some formalized logic on page 114 with little explanation of what these hieroglyphics mean. It is not entirely clear what work those formalized propositions are actually doing over his regular prose. Should the non-analytic be aware of what an upside-down ‘A’ is? In speaking of Leibniz’s law of indiscernibility of identicals, one does not need to resort to the formalization if one gives a very good example. For example, if Thomas McCall and the author of this book are really one and the same person, then whatever is true of the one must be true of another—It would make no sense to say that Thomas McCall stands 5 feet 2 inches and the author of this book stands at a whopping 7 feet. So, invitations must be accepted with some discretion by the invited. Although I am flattered by anyone inviting me to rock climb, my acrophobia prompts me toward recoiling rather than accepting. Likewise, AT might not be for everyone on the same score.
Second, and relatedly, McCall could have offered some suggested bibliography. It is typically poor form to critique a book for what it does not include, as that complaint is usually more indicative of the reviewer’s personal preferences than any real deficiency in the book being reviewed. So at the risk of seeming uncouth, let me cautiously say that I think a book of this nature could have been better served had a suggested works of varying levels of difficulty been included. If someone has become interested in AT through this book, I would not recommend the works of Brian Leftow or Hud Hudson to start with as one would easily be dismayed by their complexity and sophistication. That would undermine the invitation.
Still, this is a worthy book to consider—so worthy, in fact, that a colleague and I are requiring it for an upcoming seminar that we are co-teaching. I commend this book, especially as an alternative or supplement to the Rea and Crisp collection.
My thanks to IVP Academic for the review copy.