Abstract

Katherine E. Southwood and Holly Morse (eds),
Psalms and the Use of the Critical Imagination: Essays in Honour of Professor Susan Gillingham
(London: T&T Clark, 2022); 237 pp.: 9780567696328, £85 (hbk)
I particularly enjoyed the essays in this book which emulate Professor Susan Gillingham’s seminal, interdisciplinary scholarship tracing the reception history of the Psalms across Jewish, Christian and secular sources. Natasha O’Hear, who worked as her research assistant while doing her doctorate, offers a fascinating article on the different ways in which Psalm 23 has been depicted, starting with third-century Roman catacombs, continuing with medieval Christian (and very occasionally Jewish) illustrations of the Psalms, and continuing into the twentieth century with the Jewish Marc Chagall’s startling Psaumes de David – some with very earthly images of, say, ‘the valley of the shadow of death’ and some with very other-worldly depictions. Another former student, Deborah Rooke, looks at the way Handel’s Chandos Anthems were shaped by a very selective choice of words from Coverdale’s translation of the Psalms – fearful of including references, for example, to ‘Jacob’ at a time in English history when the Jacobites were still seen as a threat. In another essay, Peter Groves explores Gerard Manley Hopkins’ poetic handling of Psalm 19. John Barton also contributes a thoughtful essay that questions the concept of ‘allegorical readings’ of Psalms (often used as a way of dismissing them today). My only regret is that Psalm 84 (surely a favourite of many clergy) was wholly unmentioned.
Peter Anthony,
Patristic Perspectives on Luke’s Transfiguration: Interpreting Vision
(London: T&T Clark, 2022); 238 pp.: 9780567699756, £85 (hbk)
This is another attractive and scholarly book on reception history, in this case on the different ways in which Luke’s account of the Transfiguration (itself considerably longer than Mark’s original account and then Matthew’s version) was interpreted by patristic writers and artists. I have reviewed it at greater length for Church Times (14 October 2022), so I will not repeat that here. However, I particularly learned from this splendid book about the different ways in which Tertullian and Origen interpreted Luke’s story and how, four centuries later, it was reflected differently in the luscious apse mosaics in Saint Catherine’s monastery in Sinai and Sant’Apollinare in Classe, Ravenna. I recommend requesting it from a library – it is a delight.
Samuel Wells,
Act Justly: Practices to Reshape the World
(Norwich: Canterbury Press, 2022); 156 pp.: 9781786224576, £14.99 (pbk)
I have also reviewed this book more fully for Church Times (Christmas book section). It is the final part of Samuel Wells’ trilogy, which also includes Walk Humbly (2019) and Love Mercy (2020), all inspired by Micah 6.8. It focuses, in the first half, on the rule of law and, in the second, on social justice. Like several of his other books, Act Justly is written for the general public without the critical apparatus that would be expected in a more academic book, making it difficult to assess the validity of many of his sweeping claims; however, it does make some important points about the necessity of – and tension between – the rule of law and social justice.
J. Edward Walters (ed.),
Eastern Christianity: A Reader
(Grand Rapids MN: Eerdmans, 2021); 423 pp.: 9780802876867, $55 (hbk)
This scholarly collection makes available in English many previously untranslated early Eastern Christian texts, remarkably, from Syriac, Armenian, Georgian, Arabic, Coptic and Ethiopic sources. It explains: The internationally renowned scholars behind these translations begin each section with an informative historical introduction, so that anyone interested in learning more about these understudied groups can more easily traverse their diverse linguistic, cultural, and literary traditions. A boon to scholars, students, and general readers, this ample resource expands the scope of Christian history so that communities beyond Western Christendom can no longer be ignored.
Layton Boyd Friesen,
Secular Nonviolence and the Theo-Drama of Peace: Anabaptist Ethics and the Catholic Christology of Hans Urs von Balthasar
(London: T&T Clark, 2022); 253 pp.: 9780567704047, £65 (hbk); 9780567704030, £21.99 (pbk)
This book, written by a Canadian Mennonite pastor, is part of the T&T Clark series ‘Studies in Anabaptist Theology and Ethics’. It is nicely and modestly written, avoiding strident claims. Friesen admits that the most famous recent Mennonite theologian, John Howard Yoder, was, despite his pacifism, guilty of ‘sexual violence’ (p. 77), and that his equally famous Methodist/Episcopalian pacifist follower, Stanley Hauerwas, has been criticized for an approach that ‘elevated the church as an ethical community’ (p. 193). Yet their books dominate his bibliography and have a strong influence on his text. However, he does admit, more frankly than them, that, in the modern world, Mennonites have been divided and confused about their pacifism – with 40 per cent of eligible Mennonite men enlisting to fight in the Second World War (the sociologist Bryan Wilson noted a similar trend among Quaker men in the First World War) – and that many Mennonites elide their pacifism with secular pacifism. Arguing for a theological concept of ‘non-resistance’ rather than secular ‘pacifism’, and using the Catholic theologian Hans Urs von Balthasar, he suggests that Mennonite non-resistance could be situated ‘within the active defencelessness of Christ to his Father and the resulting defencelessness of Christ to the world’ (p. 129). A surprising mixture (as he admits on p. 89) of Catholic and Anabaptist perspectives.
William Schweiker, Maria Antonaccio, Elizabeth Bucar and David A. Clairmont (eds),
Encyclopedia of Religious Ethics: 3 Volumes
(London and New York NY: Wiley-Blackwell, 2022); 1,600 pp.: 9781118471982, £440 (hbk)
This mammoth work has been several years in the making and replaces the more manageable Each volume is devoted to a particular element of religious ethics. Volume I – Moral Inquiry helps readers understand diverse religious and moral traditions, the social practices and institutions used for their transmission, and the methods and approaches used for their comparison. Volume II – Moral Tradition describes the established historical traditions of Judaism, Christianity, Islam, Buddhism, Indian religions, Chinese religions, African religions, and religions of the Americas. Volume III – Moral Issues provides the conceptual resources for understanding the structures, conditions, and challenges of a wide range of moral issues that religious ethicists have engaged, and for appreciating the contributions of different scholars in the field.
Good libraries should hold it.
Catherine Pepinster,
Defenders of the Faith: The British Monarchy, Religion and the Next Coronation
(London: Hodder & Stoughton, 2022); 352 pp.: 9781399800068, £25 (hbk)
This highly topical book is written by the former editor of The Tablet who was interviewed at length during the BBC’s broadcast of Queen Elizabeth’s funeral. It reads easily, as one might expect from a journalist, but it relies largely on secondary sources and repeats many stories (whether true or not) that are already well known about Queen Elizabeth, Prince Philip and King Charles. Unlike Jonathan Dimbleby, Catherine Pepinster does not appear to have had direct access to the royal family, although she does have more interest in religious issues than him. A central dilemma, made public by Dimbleby, is discussed at length – namely, whether King Charles will be named a ‘Defender of the Faith’ or a ‘Defender of Faith’ in his coronation service in May. Frankly, ever since Archbishop Robert Runcie, and each of his successors, offered hospitality at Lambeth Palace to other faith leaders within a Britain that is typically religiously unenthusiastic (and was applauded for doing so by the late, great Rabbi Jonathan Sacks), this really has not been an issue within mainstream Anglicanism. She does, though, set out clearly that the Queen dutifully prayed, worshipped and commended Christian faith in her Christmas broadcasts without reading much (if any) theology, while both Prince Philip and King Charles read, spoke and wrote passionately about environmental, moral and theological/ideological issues. But that insight is hardly new. I doubt if readers of Theology will learn much from this book.
Mona West and Robert E. Shore-Goss (eds),
The Queer Bible Commentary
, 2nd edition (London: SCM Press, 2022); 870 pp.: 9780334060789, £80 (hbk)
The first edition of this unique biblical commentary was published in 2006. Its bibliography and some of the articles have now been updated, taking into consideration the great increase in LGBTQ+ biblical interpretations over the last decade and a half, and there is a new and informative introductory essay by Professor Mary Tolbert. As with the first edition, this revised edition offers the following: Rather than a verse-by-verse analysis, typical of more traditional commentaries, contributors to this volume focus specifically upon those portions of the book that have particular relevance for readers interested in lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender issues such as the construction of gender and sexuality, the reification of heterosexuality, the question of lesbian and gay ancestry within the Bible, the transgendered voices of the prophets, the use of the Bible in contemporary political, socio-economic and religious spheres and the impact upon lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender communities … Contributors draw on feminist, queer, deconstructionist, utopian theories, the social sciences and historical-critical discourses. The focus is on both how reading from lesbian, gay, bisexual and/or transgender perspectives affects the reading and interpretation of biblical texts and how biblical texts have and do affect lesbian, gay, bisexual and/or transgender communities.
At the conclusion to their Acknowledgements, the editors cheekily thank ‘finally the Spirit – the ultimate mischief maker and trickster who continues to colour outside the ecclesial boundaries and exclusions’. Who can blame them?
A commentary to sit, challengingly, alongside other more conventional works.
