O. Palmer Robertson is the director and principal of African Bible University in Uganda. He previously taught at Reformed, Westminster, Knox, and Covenant seminaries. He has authored such works as The Christ of the Covenants and The Christ of the Prophets.
The Psalms appear to be a haphazard collection of prayers and praises. Robertson argues, however, that the Psalms showcase a deliberate structure at the hands of their final redactor. Because the Psalms developed over a long period of time, the final redactor selected certain psalms for certain locations (p. 7). By discerning this structure, one may see how the Psalms connect with each other and gain insight into each Psalm (p. 3).
He notes the Psalter divides into five books, each of which ends with a doxology (p. 8). He identifies already extant Psalm collections (p. 10). Next, he observes how the redactor distributed different authors throughout the Psalter. For example, Davidic Psalms dominate Books I and II, but their number diminishes in Books III–V. The redactor also positioned significant Psalms at the literary seams: Psalm 72 by Solomon concludes Book II, and Psalm 90 by Moses begins Book IV. These placements suggest deliberate choice rather than haphazard assembly.
Robertson then identifies the two “poetic pillars” which introduce the Psalms: Psalms 1 and 2. These two Psalms—a Torah Psalm and a Messianic Psalm respectively—summarize the main themes of the Psalter: God’s law and God’s king/Messiah. According to Robertson, a Torah Psalm appears with a Messianic Psalm three times in the Psalter; each time at a pivotal point (p. 16).
Next, he discusses minor structural markers: the placement of the acrostic Psalms (p. 16), the groupings celebrating the kingship of Yahweh and His Messiah (pp. 16–17), the Psalms of Ascents (p. 17), Psalms of Historical Recollection (p. 18), Focal Messianic Psalms (pp. 18–19), Psalms Confessing Sin (p. 19), “Poetic Pyramid” Psalms (p. 19), and the Hallelu-YAH Psalms (p. 20). He devotes less space to these markers in the beginning of the book, although he handles them in more detail during his exegesis. Robertson concludes this overview, stating, “Taken together, these various groupings just listed account for a large segment of the Psalter. Other groupings or interconnections bind the entire book of Psalms into a well-organized composition (p. 21).”
In the following chapter, Robertson considers the redemptive historical framework of the Psalms. He applies his work from The Christ of the Covenants to the structure of the Psalms. He emphasizes the role of the Davidic covenant in the Psalms, although themes from prior covenants appear as well. He presents the macro-structure of the Psalms in chapter 4. In the remainder of the work he explains the structure of the Psalter Psalm by Psalm.
Robertson argues convincingly for a deliberate structure and flow for the Psalms. Through his exegesis, he delineates how the Psalms connect on a macro and micro level and how these connections communicate the Psalter’s message.
One connection comes in Book I. Robertson observes that Psalms 3–17 show the Messiah’s (David’s) struggle to overcome his enemies and establish his throne. Psalm 18 is a turning point. The superscription indicates that David wrote this Psalm after he had been delivered from the hand of Saul. However, previous Psalms (e.g., Psa 3) depict events after Saul’s death. Robertson thus observes the redactor’s hand. The redactor considered thematic and theological factors above temporal or historical factors when he arranged these Psalms, showing the establishment of Messiah’s throne through mortal combat with his enemies. Although conflict continues to reign, the tone of Book I changes after Psalm 18. The king must still fight, but he now enjoys a modicum of stability (p. 78). Significantly, this change in tone occurs at the second Torah/Messiah Psalm pairs.
Also, Robertson demonstrates a connection between the themes of Books I and II. The focus changes from the king’s conflict with God’s enemies to his communication with them. Robertson shows that the Psalmist, though still engaged in conflict, now addresses the nations. For example, Psalm 67 uses Elohim when it cites the Aaronic benediction (p. 113). Such an address does not appear in Book I. Since the Psalmist now addresses the nations, he uses Elohim instead of YHWH. Robertson shows that Book I consistently uses YHWH while Book II uses Elohim. Old Testament scholars have noted that the biblical authors frequently use Elohim when they intend their message for non-Israelites. These lines of evidence strengthen Robertson’s overall argument.
Robertson makes a strong connection between Books III and IV. At the end of Book III, the Davidic covenant and monarchy have apparently failed. Since the Davidic covenant plays such an important role in the Psalms, the Davidic failure casts a pall over YHWH’s promises. In this context, Robertson observes that Book IV begins with the only Psalm of Moses. This Psalm returns to the beginning of Israel’s history and YHWH’s rule then, before a king ruled in Israel. This Psalm proceeds to the “YHWH Reigns” collection. Robertson again sees the redactor’s hand. The redactor placed these Psalms in this order to show that YHWH has always been Israel’s king, whether the Davidic king proved faithful or not (p. 147). Through this placement, the redactor shows that Israel’s faith has matured. Robertson’s observation illuminates both the location of Moses’s Psalm and the purpose of the “YHWH Reigns” collection.
Robertson bolsters his case by appealing to the New Testament’s use of the Psalter. The New Testament authors quote certain Psalms more than others, and Robertson observes that the most popular Psalms appear at key junctures within the Psalter. For example, Psalm 110 and Psalm 118 bring the Messianic focus to a climax in the Psalter, and New Testament authors quote these Psalms, along with Psalm 2, more than any other Psalm (p. 195). Psalm 118 also appears in the final Torah/Messiah Psalm pair. While not all will accept Robertson’s appeal to the New Testament for verification, he has illumined the surrounding context of every Psalm quotation in the New Testament through his study of the structure. Those who study the use of the Psalms in the New Testament should find a reliable foundation for their work in Robertson’s study.
Although Robertson interacts with different Psalms scholars, he maintains a theological and pastoral focus throughout the book. He argues that one can memorize a large portion of the Psalter by understanding the overall structure and flow (pp. 81–82). Throughout the book, he derives various lessons about prayer from the Psalms. These pastoral insights make this study useful beyond the academy.
The Flow of the Psalms will serve well as an overview of the Psalter. Its contents will initiate Old Testament students into the interpretation of the Psalter. Its pastoral insights will help pastors preaching through or counseling from the Psalms. Educated laypeople will find this book helpful and edifying.
Matthew R. Miller
The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, Louisville, KY
A Biblical-Theological Introduction to the Old Testament and its New Testament counterpart are projects undertaken by the faculty, both current and past, of Reformed Theological Seminary (RTS). The project was dedicated in honor of the seminary’s fiftieth anniversary. Miles Van Pelt edited the Old Testament volume and wrote both the introduction and the chapter on the Song of Songs.
Whereas most introductions to the Old Testament discuss the historical-critical issues of each book, these issues have only a minor role in A Biblical-Theological Introduction to the Old Testament. Instead, the book offers an introduction to the theological themes contained within each book of the Old Testament. After an initial section discussion on the structure and message of the Old Testament, the book dedicates a chapter to each of the books in the Old Testament as they appear in the Hebrew Bible. Each chapter is divided into sections labeled “Background Issues,” “Structure and Outline,” “Message and Theology,” and “Approaching the New Testament.” The “Message and Theology” sections make up the bulk of each chapter.
The book’s main strength is the greater emphasis placed upon the theological message of each book compared to most other Old Testament introductions. The authors never diminish the importance of the historical-critical issues contained in most introductions, yet A Biblical-Theological Introduction to the Old Testament contains more extensive discussions of the theological message of each biblical book. The decision to focus on the theological message of each book will provide a helpful framework to guide students and pastors studying any Old Testament book.
In addition to a helpful emphasis on theology, each author brings their own specialties to their contribution. For example, some contributors develop their discussions against the backdrop of other ANE cultures, while others focus upon the literary features of the biblical text. Since this is the case, however, readers will likely find some chapters more helpful than others, depending upon their own preferences.
Although the theological focus of this book will provide readers with a unique volume of Old Testament introduction, some elements of the book hinder it from being as helpful as it could be. First, the books are mainly approached as isolated units rather than as parts of an integrated whole. In the Introduction, Van Pelt attempts to demonstrate how each Old Testament book fits together, but this emphasis is absent in many of the chapters featuring the individual books of the Old Testament. Furthermore, there is no attempt to trace specific themes, such as God’s presence, covenant, or sacrifice as they are developed throughout the Old Testament. Each book is essentially treated in isolation from the other books.
Second, the authors approach their tasks with a variety of methodologies, which are sometimes incompatible. For example, Van Pelt’s introduction highlights the importance of the Hebrew arrangement of the Old Testament canon (p. 25). In this arrangement, the twelve Minor Prophets are typically regarded as a single work called The Book of the Twelve. Yet Timmer, in his chapter on The Twelve, asserts that this approach neglects the individual nature of each book and that the books should be studied separately (p. 326). He discusses theological themes which appear within The Twelve, but he clearly thinks this practice contains several pitfalls and the manner in which he discusses the themes could be used to discuss the connections these books have in common within any biblical book, not just among The Twelve. The Hebrew arrangement also places Ruth after Proverbs, but Yeo’s chapter on Ruth only passingly refers to this arrangement and discredits its helpfulness (p. 404). Yeo is much more concerned with reading Ruth within the context of Judges and 1 Samuel (pp. 401–403), the arrangement found in modern Bibles, than he is the Hebrew arrangement which Van Pelt develops within the introduction.
Third, in addition to methodological variety, each author seems to have a unique conception of their assignment, and they approach their task in a wide variety of ways. Currid, the author of the chapters on Genesis and Exodus, frequently discusses the theology of these books against a historical reconstruction of the beliefs of other ANE cultures. Yet, McKelvey, the author of the Leviticus chapter, makes no use of ANE material and attempts to describe the major theological themes appearing within the text of Leviticus. Glodo, the author of the Numbers chapter, differs from Currid and McKelvey by attempting to give a theological summary of each section of Numbers. Redd, the author of the Deuteronomy chapter, understood the “Approaching the New Testament” section very differently from each of the previous authors. He discusses the importance of Deuteronomy within the Pentateuch, the Former Prophets, the Latter Prophets, and finally the New Testament (pp. 152–157). Thus, even among the four authors who wrote chapters on the Pentateuch, their approaches to biblical theology differ widely, and they understood the goals of each section within their chapters very differently. This wide variety of approaches is typical for the rest of the book and does not allow for a unified product to emerge.
These difficulties perhaps stem from the absence of a definition of “biblical theology” at the outset of the book. Although a definition of biblical theology may seem obvious to some, when examining various works claiming to discuss biblical (or New or Old Testament) theology, it is apparent that biblical theology is understood in a wide variety of ways. Sometimes these differences in how biblical theology is conceived stem from significant hermeneutical differences among authors. At this point, one cannot simply label a work as “biblical theology” and assume that this will mean the same thing to every reader or even to every contributor even if they all have connections to an institution such as RTS. Since this is the case, a book that attempts to outline the theology of each Old Testament book without a definition of biblical theology will suffer from multiple approaches and lack the uniformity a reader may expect when first encountering the book. Perhaps if a definition of biblical theology had been proposed and the authors had attempted to integrate their contributions more, the difficulties noted in this review could have been resolved.
As noted above, these deficiencies limit the usefulness of A Biblical-Theological Introduction to the Old Testament. The book does not provide the reader with an integrated theology of the entire Old Testament but instead a medium-length introduction to the theological contents of each book of the Old Testament. The chapters are more extensive than entries typically found in Bible dictionaries and under the “theology” section of most commentary introductions yet briefer than monographs discussing theological issues of a specific book. This allows the book to fill a gap between these two types of resources, which should be beneficial to many seminary students and pastors. Unfortunately, since there is little to tie the chapters together other than a very general structural outline, it is difficult to recommend this book over other similar works such as Theological Interpretation of the Old Testament edited by Vanhoozer. Only the student’s preference for a particular author will help him or her determine which book to consult.
Casey K. Croy
The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, Louisville, KY
What does idealism have to do with Christianity? In Bloomsbury’s two-volume series, editors Joshua Farris, Mark Hamilton, Steven Cowan, and James Spiegel set out to answer this question. Reflection upon Edwardsean and Berkeleyan idealism has lead them to advocate for a reevaluation of idealism’s compatibility with Christian theology. Together they have assembled a wide array of scholars whose personal commitment to idealism varies, but nevertheless each endorses a particular virtue of idealism.
Since space forbids a detailed interaction with each chapter of this series, I have instead opted for a thematic summary and a meta-criticism concerning the enterprise of Christian idealism. The summary might also serve as a recommended reading plan of the two volumes, reorganized according to what I take to be the major contribution from each author. Many of these chapters do a refreshingly excellent job of writing historically informed analytic theology or philosophy, which was a chief aim of the editors of volume one. Consequently, my classification of prolegomena, historical theology, systematic theology, and philosophy does not always reflect the genre intention of the authors. My hope is that this review will serve potential readers by helping them enter into Christian idealism by connecting the unique insights from ‘Idealism and Christianity’ with the potential interests of future readers.
Prolegomena For those who are novices with the subject of idealism in general, I recommend beginning with Cowan and Spiegel’s introduction. Here the editors lucidly and succinctly lay out the essential thesis of Berkeleyan idealism: esse est percipi aut percipere or “to be is to be perceived or to be a perceiver” (II.intro). On the other hand, Farris and Hamilton’s introduction adds the exotic thinking of Edwardsean idealism alongside a series of questions that commends the relevance of these two modern minds, Berkeley and Edwards, for knotty theological issues today (I.intro). Both introductions have exhaustive chapter previews that should be reviewed by those who wish to have a more detailed summary than what can be provided here. Finally, Spiegel’s chapter (II.1) on the idealism and reasonableness of theistic belief shows how the former enhances the latter by looking at some of Berkeley’s apologetic contributions. Unlike much of the analytic philosophy genre today, these prolegomena essays are accessible and assume no prior knowledge on the part of the reader.
Historical theology Because contemporary monism often comes packaged in a materialistic box rather than an idealist box, Christians have rightly been wary of considering idealism as a plausible metaphysic scheme. Many of the historical chapters in this series argue that while this concern might be legitimate for non-theistic philosophers, the commitments of George Berkeley and Jonathan Edwards are much more complex and faithful to Christian theology. Some of these chapters defend the orthodoxy of Berkeley’s doctrine of creation (Spiegel, I.1) and Edwards’s Christology (Crisp, I.8 and Tan, I.9). Crisp and Tan’s essays represent the only competing perspectives in this series, and their differences could be made more explicit. However, if readers want more from that discussion, they should consult Crisp’s Jonathan Edwards on God and Creation and Tan’s Fullness Received and Returned: Trinity and Participation in Jonathan Edwards with an eye towards the importance that dispositional ontology plays in the interpretation of Edwards’s idealism. William Wainwright shows readers that Christian idealism lends itself to many creative variations by comparing the account of knowledge of God in Berkeley and Edwards and putting forward philosophical nuances that might otherwise be missed. (I.2) While Keith Yandell’s chapter also defends a Berkeleyan account of creation (I.4), his primary contribution to the volume is historical; he places the Anglican divine in the context of the atheistic thinkers of the 17th century, which sheds light on why Berkeley made the philosophical moves he did. The same virtue is present in Timo Airaksinen’s chapter on Berkeley’s ethics (I.11), whose moral philosophy was meant to curb the spread of unbelief while also providing a path to godly happiness.
Systematic theology Most of the chapters between these two volumes offer immediate resources to contemporary systematic theology, albeit remaining heavily indebted to both Edwards and Berkeley. Benjamin Arbour’s chapter, “God, Idealism, and Time,” is one of the most demanding arguments to follow, but it rewards the reader by bringing idealism right into present-day debates in analytic theology regarding God’s relationship to time (II.7). In keeping with the significant consequences that idealism has for the Creator-creature distinction, two essays reevaluate popular suspicions surrounding idealistic panentheism. Jordan Wessling provides an Edwards-styled defense (I.3) and Adam Groza adds a Berkeleyan defense (II.6) in which a “weak” mode of panentheism is rendered consistent with Christian orthodoxy. Several other essays address or construct what might be called “idealist anthropology” by replacing substance-dualism with theological monism (Farris I.5) or by replacing the primacy of the material world with that of the mind (Taliaferro II.5). Mark Hamilton pushes some of these conclusions further up field by showing how the simplicity of metaphysical idealism can better account for sin’s corrupting effects upon the body than the traditional Reformed approach (I.6). Although Marc Cortez’s chapter is primarily dedicated to spelling out the implications of Edwards’s immaterialism for the resurrection, it overlaps with these anthropological discussions quite a bit as well (I.7).
There are also a number of worthwhile integrations of idealism into other doctrines. James Arcadi makes a creative and novel case for an idealist account of the Eucharist (I.10). Mark Hight writes what, for many, will be a controversial take on miracles within idealistic parameters, warranting consideration even if it does not represent Berkeley’s own opinions (II.9). Lastly, Keith Ward contends that idealism’s priority of the mind helps ground the moral life (II.10) Each of these articles is uniquely creative and offers a fresh look at old issues.
PhilosophyWhile every chapter is philosophically informed, there are three essays in particular that are noteworthy for their interaction with non-theistic philosophy. Gregory Trickett, for example, deals with Bertrand Russell’s rejection of Berkeleyan idealism by showing how theism can uphold a realist (and correspondence) theory of truth (II.2). His essay might serve future discussions about how Christian idealism can ward off charges of anti-realism. At the end of Howard Robinson’s “Idealism and Perception: Why Berkeleyan Idealism is Not as Counterintuitive as it Seems,” idealism is provocatively suggested to provide a better ontological fit with current quantum theory than the supposed “common sense” of scientific realism (II.4). Douglas Blount’s use of Thomas Kuhn in his chapter on science is also an ambitious employment of idealism (II.8), which I will say more about below, along with Steven Cowan’s excellent explanation of idealism and particulars (II.3).
Before moving on to constructive criticism, the contributors are to be commended for the corrective they offer to many mistaken notions about idealism, which is a great service to Berkeley’s legacy. Additionally, a great deal of complexity is showcased regarding the types of idealism that are viable for Christians. Since no monolithic scheme dominates the book (e.g. Edwards’s occasionalism and theological determinism are not shared by Berkeley), it should encourage further creativity. Moreover, there is a rhythmic unity to many of these arguments that proceeds from (1) the exposition of a dilemma that realism or “matterism” fails to solve to (2) an elaboration of how idealism relates to the aforementioned dilemma more cogently to finally, (3) the exchange of matter or substance with the divine or human mind as a theoretical explanation. Obviously this type of argument prizes parsimony or simplicity since almost every case involves a removal of some middle substance between God and creation. Furthermore, the immediacy with which idealists place agents (both God and humans) in proximity to their causes appears to require a high view of Providence, which will lead to correlated concerns about the problem of evil or the authorship of sin. Many authors acknowledge this point, rebutting potential concerns with a “no-worse-off” defense, which involves a demonstration of how objections to panentheism from the problem of evil are “no-worse-off” than traditional theistic defenses. Whether or not parsimony and the “no-worse-off” defense are theological virtues will depend upon the convictions of the reader, but since they appear to be inherent within Christian idealism, it would be prudent to explore their value in greater detail.
My meta-criticism for the project of Christian idealism is twofold – part metaphysics and part historiography. The first part is that the editors and some of the contributors undersell their claims, likely out of respect for the reader and a desire to avoid a dogmatic tone. Nevertheless, ontology (defined as the study of reality) is a comprehensive field with major implications for every theological and philosophical issue addressed in these volumes. Consequently, the “mere suggesting,” “worth considering,” the “elasticity and adaptability… [and] the appeal” of idealism (I.intro), and other similar idioms understate the commitment the reader must make when switching their understanding of ontology from, say, Common Sense Realism to Berkeleyan idealism. If one pictures theology as a web of interrelated beliefs, ontology is a strand that upholds the center spiral and every successive thread. One cannot, for example, be a consistent idealist with regards to the Eucharist and a substance realist with regards to creation. So while the tone of each contributor is appreciated, the stakes of their recommendations are often much higher than they set.
The second criticism is primarily a question of historiography: why did Berkeley – and to a lesser extent, Edwards – fade from the consciousness of Western philosophy? Why did their influence not persist? Unfortunately, despite the frequent laments by authors in these volumes, this important background question is not explored in any great detail. One would think that if an apparently worthwhile philosophical system ceased to be considered, it would be important to locate the cause of its extinction. Now, I am not suggesting that the meager legacy of modern Anglophone idealism ipso facto demonstrates its falsity; rather I am requesting that some explanation be given for this lamentable phenomenon in order to ensure that better ontologies did not come along and replace Berkeley. Fredrick Copleston’s story – representing perhaps the majority report – is relatively straightforward: Berkeley’s metaphysical philosophy was neglected while his empirical elements, especially his phenomenalistic analysis, were picked up and taken in a more skeptical direction by Hume. Hume in turn connects us to the second, more famous half of the story in which he interrupts Kant’s dogmatic slumber, sending Kant in a completely different direction in speculative philosophy – namely into transcendental idealism. This Kantian variation of idealism became immensely popular and produced scores of Continental offspring that have come back around to deeply influence the commitments of Anglophone theologians. Readers who wish to look into this more would do well to consult Garry Dorrien’s magnificent work, Kantian Reason and Hegelian Spirit: The Idealistic Logic of Modern Theology, which is now the authoritative treatment of the legacy Kantian transcendental idealism. German idealism has so overshadowed its English counterpart that only in 2011 was the first historical survey on the subject ever written (by W. J. Meander: British Idealism: A History.) In short, in terms of legacy, Kant dwarfs Berkeley and Christian idealists ought to ask why this is so.
But, one might object, why should a group of Christian analytic theologians and philosophers be concerned with the waxing and waning of historical preferences when the good bishop himself reminds us that “[t]ruth is the cry of all, but the game of a few” (Siris 368)? The short answer: some arguments made by Kant and other moderns need to be answered by Christian idealists, and this is especially relevant to Cowan and Blount’s essays. In the Critique of Pure Reason, Kant writes that Berkeley’s “dogmatic idealism… declares space, together with all the things to which it is attached as an inseparable condition, to be something that is impossible in itself, and… therefore declares things in space to be merely imaginary” (KrV B274). Kant says that Berkeley’s unintended conclusion is unavoidable because he “regards space as a property that is to pertain to the things in themselves; for then it, along with everything for which it serves as a condition, is a non-entity” before going on to state that he has already undermined this type of idealism in the Transcendental Aesthetic (Ibid.). Cowan touches upon the role that space plays in distinguishing objects only tangentially when he considers the problem of bundle theory, but he gives no constructive account of space from the Berkeleyan perspective. Kant might press Cowan (and Berkeley) on this point, by asking whether or not space (and time) was a property bundled to sensible objects that we perceive rather than an a priori form of intuition. If the bundle theory of sensible objects is true, must a Berkeleyan regard space and time as properties of that object, empirically derived? If so, what does this account look like? The issue here is over how the mind determines the character of experience and whether the mind brings space and time, so to speak, to the discernment of objects or if those are attributes derived empirically. For those who wish to pursue this further, I recommend Ralph C. S. Walker’s chapter, ‘Idealism: Kant and Berkeley’ in Essays on Berkeley.
Elsewhere in the Prolegomena to any future metaphysics that will be able to come forward as science, Kant again objects to Berkeley’s supposition that the noumenal – things-in-themselves – realm can be knowable from the divine Mind to the human mind through a type of intuitive notion. Berkeley’s notional knowledge was not empirical, and therefore it transgressed the categories necessary for the type of science that Kant wanted to uphold. Blount’s chapter does not relate as directly on Kant’s objections as Cowan’s does, but it is the place where the most extrapolation needs to happen. If Berkeley’s phenomenalist account of the sciences is right and (especially if occasionalism is true) scientists are actually studying patterns of God’s action rather than “so-called natural laws,” then both science and theology must undergo major revisions in light of this ontology. Science will have to pull up its realist foundations and scale back its sphere of claims while theology begins to move in and renovate science. Kant would vehemently object to this for a number of reasons, and Christian idealists should think about what they are committing to if such relationship between science and idealism goes forward. Nonetheless I am anxious to see more interaction between the philosophy of science and Christian idealism in the future.
The ‘Idealism and Christianity’ series is the first of its kind, an inauguration of a rich conversation in metaphysics that manages to be coherent, insightful, and accessible to students and professors alike. At the present moment, accessibility seems to be the most pressing attribute. Many of the questions and conversations at the Idealism and Christian Philosophy book panel of the 2016 ETS annual meeting revealed that the primary obstacle to a renaissance of Christian idealism were caricatures or truncated versions of Berkeleyanism. A step towards correcting this situation would be to encourage interested metaphysicians, students, and theologians to obtain these volumes by Bloomsbury while also procuring the works of Berkeley and Edwards. Reading the primary sources of these modern idealists will circumvent many of the problems that appear in secondary literature or in the writings of poor historians of philosophy who act as de facto gatekeepers. In the meantime, readers should also be on the lookout for similar volumes on idealism from these authors in the future.
So what does idealism have to do with Christianity? Currently among the evangelical academy, the answer is very little. These volumes take a step in the right direction towards rectifying this problem.
An Associate Professor of Art at Biola University, Jonathan A. Anderson is himself an artist and art critic. He has also afforded his artistic sensibilities to theological conversations, having coauthored the book Renewing Christian Theology: Systematics for a Global Christianity (Baylor University Press, 2014). William A. Dyrness is a respected scholar in the field of theology and the arts and has authored several books, including Visual Faith: Art, Theology, and Worship in Dialogue (Baker Academic, 2001), Reformed Theology and Visual Culture: The Protestant Imagination from Calvin to Edwards (Cambridge University Press, 2004), and Poetic Theology: God and the Poetics of Everyday Life (Eerdmans, 2011). Additionally, he is Fuller Theological Seminary’s Professor of Theology and Culture. In Modern Art and the Life of a Culture, Anderson and Dyrness have combined their expertise to provide a treatment of modern art that is historically accurate, aesthetically conscientious, and theologically grounded.
Anderson and Dyrness wrote Modern Art and the Life of a Culture as a response to Hans Rookmaaker’s influential book Modern Art and the Death of a Culture (InterVarsity Press, 1970), which has long served as a guide to culture and the arts for many evangelical Christians (pp. 9, 44). While the authors respected Rookmaaker’s influence and insight (p. 69), they ultimately rejected Rookmaaker’s suggestion that modern art predominantly sought to subvert religious belief; they argued instead that Christianity “continued to influence and constructively shape the development of the modernist avant-garde” and that “modernist artists were attempting to come to terms with (the meanings of) life in the age of modernity” (p. 10; see also p. 29). Thus, the authors contended that modern art—even that which is hostile toward organized religion—is profoundly spiritual and theological (pp. 41, 47). However, while Anderson and Dyrness sought to substantiate the important role of theology in modernism, they also avoided “Christianizing” art history to fit their narrative (p. 46), making clear that “to claim that religious traditions are alive and well in modern art would be claiming too much” (p. 41). Moreover, they acknowledged that “antagonism toward Christianity certainly had its influence on the rise of modern art” (p. 90). Even still, Anderson and Dyrness dismissed the widely accepted narrative that “religion played almost no constructive role at all in the development of modern art” (p. 18), and they meticulously chronicled the interplay of religion and modern art within European and North American contexts.
The high value of Modern Art and the Life of a Culture should be apparent. While commentators such as Rookmaaker and Francis Schaeffer have tended to view modern art as being hostile toward religion (and in some cases, rightfully so), Anderson and Dyrness have successfully shown the prominent role that Christian theology played in the development, subject matter, and style of modern art. For instance, the authors convincingly demonstrated that Catholic revivals in France in the nineteenth century had a major impact on modern artists, suggesting that modernism and religion are not necessarily mutually exclusive and that the “language of [modern] art [could] express Christian themes” (p. 136; see also pp. 90, 101). The authors also defended abstract art, viewing it not necessarily as a rejection of the created order (as is often charged in evangelical circles) but rather as a recognition of divine transcendence that surpasses reason and representation (p. 196; see also p. 182); indeed, the authors espoused that American Protestantism’s emphasis on personal experience and general revelation in nature “influenced the rise of abstract expressionism in North America” (p. 277).
Anderson and Dyrness brought credibility to their argument that theological questions played an important role in modern art by pointing to major figures within modernism, including Paul Gauguin, Vincent van Gogh, and Paul Cézanne (p. 44). Perhaps most interesting was the authors’ treatment of Andy Warhol, who is probably best known for his depictions of Campbell’s soup cans and of cultural icon Marilyn Monroe (pp. 314-15). While some critics have seen Warhol’s work as a sign of art’s demise, Anderson and Dyrness framed Warhol’s work within the context of his Byzantine Catholic faith (though, to say the least, elements of Warhol’s life and work would certainly seem to contradict that faith) (pp. 311, 314). As such, they interpreted Warhol’s paintings as modern day vanitas still-life works, which “emphasize the fragility and delicacy of the world” (p. 319). They further asserted that Warhol’s religious works (such as his Last Suppers), which on the surface may appear to be disrespectful to Christ/Christianity, are not “attacking religious belief but [are instead] ‘labeling’ one of the major modern obstacles to it [i.e., commercialism and consumerism]” (p. 324).
The breadth of scholarship in Modern Art and the Life of a Culture is tremendous. However, the book could have been further enriched by some reference to non-Western art. But because the book is largely a response to Rookmaaker, who dealt mostly with European and American art, this omission is forgivable to an extent. The authors themselves acknowledged this intentional limitation for the purposes of this book (pp. 12-13, 45), and they did include in their discussion some important and notable minority artists, such as Henry Ossawa Tanner (pp. 258-61). Still, their exclusion of non-Western voices unnecessarily opens the authors up to criticism from the very artistic and academic circles with whom they are seeking to engage with this book. Moreover, if, as the authors admitted, “a variety of non-Western modernisms . . . have even stronger threads of religious and theological content [than those in the West]” (p. 45), the inclusion of non-European and non-American artists would have greatly bolstered the authors’ arguments and further substantiated their critique of Rookmaaker.
Rookmaaker’s book was important for its time, and Rookmaaker has greatly impacted a generation of evangelicals in regard to engagement with the arts. Anderson and Dyrness respected this contribution while also providing necessary rectification. They asserted that while evangelicals have tended to highlight the negative aspects of modern art (such as perceived hostility toward Christianity), believers have often ignored the positive components of Christian influence within modern art and the profoundly spiritual questions that arise within modernism. Therefore, this volume by Anderson and Dyrness is a crucial contribution to the field of theology and the arts and is highly recommended for students of this discipline. Students would also do well to read Peter Gay’s Modernism: The Lure of Heresy from Baudelaire to Beckett and Beyond (W. W. Norton & Company, 2008) and James Elkins’s On the Strange Place of Religion in Contemporary Art (Routledge, 2004) to round out their understanding of religion in relation to modern art.
Review of Unceasing Kindness: A Biblical Theology of Ruth by Peter H. Lau and Gregory Goswell
Lau, Peter H. W. and Gregory Goswell. Unceasing Kindness: A Biblical Theology of Ruth. New Studies in Biblical Theolgoy 41. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2016, pp. 212, $24.00 paperback.
Peter H. W. Lau and Gregory Goswell collaborate in a recent addition to the series New Studies in Biblical Theology, Unceasing Kindness: A Biblical Theology of Ruth. Peter H. W. Lau is Lecturer in Old Testament at Seminari Theoloji Malaysia and is an honorary research associate at the University of Sydney. Gregory Goswell is the Academic Dean and Lecturer in Biblical Studies at Christ College, Sydney.
In writing Unceasing Kindness Lau and Goswell do not intend to compete with commentaries, nor to “render them superfluous” (p. 157). Rather, the authors seek to build on “close studies of the text” provided by commentaries in order to explore “its biblical-theological parameters” in the context of the whole of Scripture (p. 157). Lau and Goswell begin by reading Ruth alongside various texts in the Old Testament, drawing out themes found when Ruth is read in conjunction with other books of the Old Testament. The authors first read Ruth alongside Ezra-Nehemiah, seeking to understand how Ruth informed the readers of the “early restoration period” of Israel’s return from exile. Lau and Goswell then read Ruth in light of the various canonical positions Ruth is found: Ruth’s position between Judges and 1 Samuel (as in the LXX); Ruth’s position after Proverbs (as in the Masoretic Text); Ruth’s position before Psalms (as found in a canonical list in the Babylonian Talmud tractate Baba Bathra). In the last four chapters, the authors flesh out four themes found in Ruth and in the whole of Scripture: famine, God’s sovereignty and human agency, redemption, and mission.
Overall, Lau’s and Goswell’s work is an excellent resource for understanding the book of Ruth. The authors masterfully cover a wealth of information without overwhelming the reader. For example, Lau and Goswell skillfully critique Roger Beckwith’s arguments concerning the order of the Old Testament canon. The authors provide the reader with the essence of Beckwith’s dense argumentation without sacrificing his meaning (pp. 55-58). Throughout the book, Lau and Goswell clearly argue their positions and plainly elucidate the themes of Ruth.
Particularly illuminating are Lau’s and Goswell’s contention that Ruth should be read in the contexts of its various canonical positions. The authors maintain that the placement of Ruth in different positions in the canon “reflect the varying perceptions and evaluations of later generations of readers . . . and no one canonical position need be privileged above the others” (p. 22). Lau and Goswell emphasize that reading Ruth in different canonical places will not necessarily produce “wildly different” or contradictory readings, but will lead to “fresh interpretative insights” into Ruth (p. 38). The authors appeal to a phenomenon called ‘paratext’—coined by Gérard Genette—by which a text is “in large measure dependent on its context” (p. 37). A biblical book, therefore, is dependent on the context of the other books surrounding it (p. 37). Because in the history of interpretation, Ruth has been placed in differing canonical positions, Ruth “has been read in more than one context” (p. 37).
Whether or not one agrees with Lau’s and Goswell’s understanding of paratext, the themes the authors flesh out when Ruth is read in its different canonical contexts are very insightful. When Ruth is positioned between Judges and 1 Samuel, the events in Ruth are best understood as preparation for the Davidic dynasty. Furthermore, God’s care and provision of David’s family in Ruth anticipates the same care in the lives of David and his house (p. 35). When Ruth is read after Proverbs, Ruth is seen as a model of “key aspects of the wisdom ethic of Proverbs” (p. 52). Lastly, when Ruth is read before Psalms, Ruth is viewed as a “model of piety in the same variety” as her descendant David, who composed many of the psalms (p.70).
Readers may not agree with all of Lau’s and Goswell’s conclusions on some matters; for example, the authors’ view of God’s seeming absence in the book of Esther (pp. 97-102), and the authors’ explanation of Boaz marrying a Moabite woman in light of the prohibition in Deuteronomy 23:3 (pp. 146-49). However, these matters do not detract from the themes Lau and Goswell flesh out in the book of Ruth.
Series editor D. A. Carson notes in his series preface that the contributions to New Studies in Biblical Theology series are “creative attempts to help thinking Christians understand their Bibles better” (p. ix). To this end Lau and Goswell have succeeded. The authors write with clarity and their arguments are easy to follow. The book could serve as a required text in a seminary class or as a study book for a church group. While the book could serve the needs of a church study group, some level of biblical literacy is helpful in moving through Unceasing Kindness. In one’s personal study, Lau’s and Goswell’s book could also be used in conjunction with a verse-by-verse commentary, with Unceasing Kindness providing the reader with the bigger picture of how Ruth fits in the scheme of the Old Testament and the whole Bible. Overall, Lau’s and Goswell’s work is strong with much to commend it.
Richard C. McDonald
The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, Louisville, KY
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