Journal articles on the topic 'Christ Lutheran Church'

This article provides an account of Bonhoeffer’s understanding of church visibility, and considers the implications that account has for the contemporary Catholic-Lutheran dialogue. By tracing the roles of divine and human agency within Bonhoeffer’s understanding of church visibility, the article argues that Bonhoeffer understands church visibility as a byproduct of discipleship. Applied to the Catholic-Lutheran dialogue, such an account implies that church visibility ought not be a goal of the dialogue, but rather an inevitable byproduct of discipleship to Christ which takes place as Christians follow after Christ together.

Reports the findings of a survey of 491 United Church of Christ, Southern Baptist Convention, Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, and Roman Catholic rural clergy from seven Northern Plains states. Offers implications for seminary and post-seminary training, placement of clergy in churches, pastoral counseling in rural congregations, and contextualized theory and ministry.

Grundtvig's Relations with Luther and the Lutheran TraditionBy Leif GraneGrundtvig’s relations with Luther and the Lutheran tradition are essential in nearly the whole of Grundtvig’s lifetime. The key position that he attributed to Luther in connection with his religious crisis 1810-11, remained with the Reformer until the very last, though there were changes on the way in his evaluation of the Reformation.The source material is overwhelming. It comprises all Grundtvig’s historical and church historical works, but also a large number of his theological writings, besides a number of his poems and hymns. Prior to Grundtvig’s lifelong occupation with Luther there had been a rejection of tradition as he had met with it in the Conservative supranaturalism. After the Romantic awakening at Egeløkke and the subsequent »Asarus« (the- ecstatic immersion in Nordic mythology), over the religious crisis 1810-1811, when Grundtvig thought he was »returning« to Luther, it was a different Luther from the one he had left a few years before. Though Grundtvig emphasizes the infallibility of the Bible, it is wrong to describe him as »Lutheran-Orthodox« in the traditional sense. In Grundtvig’s interpretation, Luther is above all the guarantee of the view of history he had acquired in his Romantic period, but given his own personal stamp, as it appeared in slightly different ways in the World Chronicles of 1812 and 1817. There already he turns against the theologization of the message of the Reformation that set in with the confessional writings. Ever since he maintained the view of the Reformation that he expounds in the two World Chronicles, though the evaluation of it changed somewhat, especially after 1825.The church view that Grundtvig presented for the first time in »Kirkens Gienmæle« (The Rejoinder of the Church), and which he explained in detail in »Om den sande Christendom« (About True Christianity) and »Om Christendommens Sandhed« (About the Truth of Christianity), was bound to lead to a conflict (as it did) with the Protestant »Scripturalism«, and thus to clarity about the disagreement with Luther. This conflict attained a greater degree of precision with the distinctions between church and state, and church and school, as they were presented in »Skal den lutherske Reformation virkelig fortsættes?« (Should the Lutheran Reformation Really Be Continued? 1830), but it was not really until the publication of the third part of »Haandbog I Verdens-Historien« (Handbook in World History) that the view of church history and of Luther’s place in it, inspired by the congregational letters in the Apocalypse, was presented, in order to be more closely developed, partly in poetical form in »Christenhedens Syvstjeme« (The Seven Star of Christendom), partly in lectures in »Kirke-Spejl« (Church Mirror).Grundtvig had to reject orthodoxy since the genuineness of Baptism and Eucharist depended on their originating from Christ Himself. Nothing of universal validity could therefore have come into existence in the 16th century.Thus the evaluation of Luther and Lutheranism must depend on how far Lutheranism corresponded to what all Christians have in common. Luther is praised for the discovery that only the Word and the Spirit must reign in the church. It is understandable therefore that Luther had to break down the false idea of the church that had prevailed since Cyprian, and Grundtvig remained unswervingly loyal to him. But he cannot avoid the question why Luther’s work crumbled after his death. The answer is that it crumbled because of »Scripturalism« which Grundtvig considers a spurious inheritance from Alexandrian theology. We must maintain Luther’s faith which centres on all that is fundamentally Christian, but not his theological method.Grundtvig believes that with his criticism of Luther he is really closer to him than those who are cringing admirers of him. Grundtvig confesses himself to having committed the mistake of confusing the Bible with Christianity, and he cannot exempt Luther from a great responsibility for this aberration. All the same, in Luther’s case the wrong Yet Luther was induced to want to make his own experiences universally valid since he did not understand that his own use of the Scriptures could not possibly be right for every man. Here Grundtvig is on the track of the individualism which to him is an inevitable consequence of Scripturalism: everybody reads as he knows best. It was not in school, but in church that he saw Luther’s great and imperishable achievement.So while Grundtvig cannot exempt Luther from some responsibility for an unfortunate development in the relation between church and school, he is very anxious to exempt him from any responsibility for the assumption of power in the church by the princes, which is due, in his opinion, to a conspiracy between the princes and the theologians with a view to tying the peoples to the symbolical books.In the development of Grundtvig’s view of church history it turns out that the interest in the national, cultural and civic significance of the Reformation has not decreased after he has given up fighting for a Christian culture. The Reformation must, as must church history on the whole, be seen in the context of the histories of the peoples. Therefore, if it is not to be pure witchcraft, it must have its foundation deep in the Middle Ages.Grundtvig points to what he calls »the new Christendom«: from the English and the Germans to the North. Viewed in that light, the Reformation is a struggle for a Christian life, a folkelig life of the people, and enlightenment.Though the 17th century wrenched all life out of what was bom in the 16th, and the 18th century abandoned both Christianity and folkelig life altogether, it was of great significance for culture and enlightenment that the people was made familiar with Luther’s catechism, Bible and hymn book. What was fundamentally Christian survived, while folkelig life lay dormant.The Reformation was unfinished, and its completion must wait until the end of time. But compulsion is approaching the end, and the force of the Reformation in relation to mother tongue and folkelig life manifests itself more strongly than ever before, Gmndtvig believes. What is fundamentally Christian in Luther must be maintained and carried onwards, while the Christian enlightenment, i.e. theology, depends on the time in question.Life is the same, but the light is historically determined. With this concept of freedom, which distinguishes between the faith in Christ as permanent and the freedom of the Holy Ghost that liberates us from being tied to the theology of the old, Gmndtvig may convincingly claim that it is he who – with his criticism - is loyal to Luther, i.e. to »the most excellent Father in Christ since the days of the Apostles«.

AbstractIn 1623 the Lutherans formed a community in Gouda. They appointed a minister, Clemens Bijleveld from Essen, and held their services in private houses at first. In 1640 'Dc Drie Tafelkaarsen', a house on the Lage Gouwe, was converted into a permanent church for them. Thanks to the Groot Protocol, in which the minutes of the church administration were recorded from this donation until the end of the eighteenth century, it is possible to reconstruct the history of the community. The manuscript also documents important gifts of works of art and church furnishings. In 1642 and 1643 seven large paintings were donated. As we know, Luther did not object to depictions which served to illustrate the Word of God as preached in the sermon. The Dutch Lutheran churches, although more austerely furnished than, say, their German or Norwegian counterparts, were certainly more richly decorated than they are today. The Lutheran church in Leiden houses the most intact ensemble of works of art. Of the seven aforementioned paintings in Gouda, one was donat ed by the preacher himself. It is by the Gouda painter Jan Duif, who depicted Bijleveld as a shepherd (fin. I). The iconography and the biblical captions show that he was presenting himself as a follower of Christ in his quality of a teacher. Two figures in the background, likewise gowned, might be Bijleveld's successors: his nephew (minister from 1655 to 1693) and his nephew's son, both of whom were called Clemens Bijleveld. They were probably added to the panel after the latter's premature death in 1694. The other six paintings were donated bv members of the community and churchwardens. In some of them the donors can be identified with characters in the illustrated episodes from the bible. From the spinsters of the parish came a work depicting the parable of the wise and foolish virgins; the churchwardens, evidently seeing themselves in the guise of the apostles, gave a pedilavium. The widow Hester Claes van Hamborg donated a painting of Simon in the Temple (in which the widow Anna figures prominently), and Catharina Gerdss Rijneveld, probably also widowed, gave Elijah and the widow of Zarephath. The unmarried men of the community presented a painting with a more general subject, the Last Judgment, perhaps intended to be hung above the pulpit. The wealthy Maria Tams gave a work described as 'cen taeffereel of bort van de christ. kercke' la scene or panel of the Christian church]. Exactly what it depicted is unclear. The same Maria Tams was a generous donor of church furniture. She presented a brass chandelier, two brass lecterns (fig. 4), a bible with silver fittings and a clock to remind the preacher of the limited time allotted to his sermon. Important gifts of ecclesiastical silver were made from 1655 on. The most striking items are an octagonal font of 1657 (fig. 5) and a Communion cup of 1661 (fig. 6), both paid for by the proceeds of a collection held among the unmarried men and women of the parish. The decorations on the font include a depiction of Christ as the Good Shepherd. There is also shepherd on the lid of the Communion cup. This element (in view, too, of the indication of the shepherd 'als 't wapen van de kerk' [the church arms] in the Groot Protocol) came to occupy a special place in the imagery of the Lutheran community. More space was required for the growing congregation, In 1680 there was an opportunity to purchase from the municipal council St. Joostenkapel, a mediaeval chapel used as a storeroom at the time. The building, situated on the river Gouwe which flows through the old town centre, was ready for the inaugural service in 1682. It was given ten staincd-glass windows, the work of the Gouda glass painter Willem Tomberg. The glass (along with six of the seven paintings) was sold during the course of renovations in 1838, but thanks to the later secretary of the community, D.J. van Vreumingen, who madc drawings of them and copied the inscriptions, we have an approximate idea of how they looked. Their original positions can also be reconstructed (fig. 13). The windows were largely executed in grisaille, except for the second and eighth, which were more colourful. The seven side-windows with scenes from the life of Christ and the Passion (figs. 8-11) were presented by the minister, his wife and other leading members of the community. The inscriptions on these windows referred to the bible passages they illustrated and to the names of the donors. The three windows at the front were donated by the Gouda municipal council (window 10, fig. 12) and the sympathetic Lutheran communities of Leiden and Essen (windows 8 and 9, figs. 11 and 12). The depiction on the window from Leiden was a popular Lutheran theme: John's vision on Patmos. The candle-stick featuring in this vision was a symbol (as in a print of 1637, for instance) for the Augsburg Confession, on which the Lutheran church was founded. In the eighteenth century occasional additions were made to the inventory, but the nineteenth century was a period of growing austerity. However, the Groot Protocol and Van Vreumingen's notes facilitate the reconstruction of the seventeenth-century interior to a large extent. The iconography of the works of art collected in the course of the years underlined the community's endeavour, in following the teachings of its earthly shepherd, to live according to the Holy Word.

Síntese: Pontuando um panorama de constantes movimentos de reforma e de conflitos no interior da Igreja de Jesus Cristo, com realce para o movimento da Reforma luterana, o Autor apresenta igualmente o movimento contrastante de unidade e comunhão na diversidade. Nos últimos tempos, particularmente após o Concílio Ecumênico Vaticano II, emerge e prevalece o movimento ecumênico, ou seja, a consciência de que a Igreja sempre se encontra em processo de novas formas, como também, e principalmente, de comunhão na diversidade a partir do comum seguimento de Jesus Cristo e da missão evangelizadora por ele confiada a seus seguidores. Por isso, advoga a continuidade e a consolidação do espírito ecumênico.Palavras-chave: Igreja católica. Reforma luterana. História. Conflitos. Ecumenismo.Abstract: Punctuating a panorama of constant movements of reform and conflicts inside the Church of Jesus Christ, with emphasis on the movement of the Lutheran Reform, the author introduces the equally contrasting movement of the unity and communion in the diversity. In recent times, particularly after the Vatican II Ecumenical Council, there emerges and prevails the ecumenical movement, that is, the consciousness that the Church always finds itself in the process of new forms, as well and mainly, in that of the communion in the diversity based on the common following of Jesus Christ and on the evangelizing mission given by Him to his followers. For this reason, it advocates the continuity and the consolidation of the ecumenical spirit.Keywords: Catholic Church. Lutheran Reform. History. Conflicts. Ecumenism.

The article discusses the history of the creation of three Russian military churches in the Finnish city of Lappeenranta (Villmanstrand), representing vivid examples of stone and wooden architecture: churches of the Protection of the Virgin (The Intercession church) (1785), St. Nicholas the Thaumaturge (1904) and the Nativity of Christ (1914). A comprehensive analysis of the history of construction, architectural features and preserved decoration of the mentioned churches, which are significant for Russian Orthodox church construction abroad, is presented for the first time ever in the article. The Intercession Church in the Villmanstrand Fortress is the first brick freestanding Russian church built in Western Europe. The dynamics of changes of the temple as a result of reconstruction and renovation of the decoration is considered. For the first time, the church works of academician Nikanor Tiutriumov (1821–1877) for the Intercession Church are described and late painting interventions in unsigned images, which may also belong to Tiutriumov, are analyzed. The history of the construction of the wooden camp church of St. Nicholas the Thaumaturge is outlined, the uniqueness of which was expressed in the rich carved decor that distinguished the church from other Russian wooden churches in Finland. However, in the early 1920s the church was dismantled and only a few archival photographs make it possible to recreate its appearance. For the dragoon regiment stationed in Villmanstrand, a regiment church in the neo-Russian style was built according to Georgy Kosyakov’s design — the only example of this kind in Finland and one of the few examples of this style in Western Europe. After 1918, the church building was transferred to the Lutheran community and modified by the removal of domes and a radical redevelopment. The degree of embodiment of the architect’s original plan based on the author’s drawings and preserved photographs is analyzed.

Abstract The article explains the fundamental features of the Lutheran two kingdoms doctrine and the Reformed doctrine of the Lordship of Christ and finds strong convergences of both in addressing political realities without leaving the Gospel perspective aside. Since Catholic concepts show a similar profile, an ecumenical public theology emerges. Six guidelines for a public church are presented to describe the consequences of a public theological approach to politics for the churches. Authentic faith witness is as much part of these guidelines as ‘bilinguality’, that is, the capability to talk the language of secular discourse and prophetic speech, which is put in relationship to the necessity of concrete daily political processes. Thus, in the end the article explains the profile of public theology in relation to liberation theology and political theology.

ABSTRACTUp until now, researchers have strictly made connections between the program of images on the 1573 balcony of the Wittenberg town hall and the office of those who wield authority. And in fact this interpretation is documented by the German inscriptions on the front of the structure. However, another dimension of the program has not been taken into account: The Latin distichs pertaining to the figures of the virtues relate not to the city councilors and political transactions; rather, they characterize the role of virtue and good works in the life of the Protestant Christian in general. It is particularly emphasized that Christ and not good works effect redemption. In contrast to the goal of the German inscriptions, the Latin distichs provide no guide to carrying on daily business. Instead, they paraphrase the Lutheran doctrine of justification. With this pointed reference to Lutheran theology, the commissioners of the program distanced themselves, on the one hand, from the Catholic church; on the other, they rejected contested theological positions within Protestantism, such as the theses of Johann Georg Major. The coat of arms of the territorial ruler and the personifications, Peace and Religion, give evidence that the Wittenberg city council wished to display prominently its agreement with the strict Lutheran position of the prince, Albertine Elector August.

In the Twin Realms of Denmark-Norway the king was also responsible for the religious life of his subjects. Kirkeritualet [The Church Ritual] of 1685 was an expression of the king’s care for his subjects. It included even guidelines for the priest’s spiritual care for those condemned to death. A “pious repentance”, rooted in the mystical tradition, became an important aspect of Lutheran Christianity following the Reformation. A reckoning with sin, conversion, and the interiorization of faith, following the Order of Salvation, was the path to a new and eternal life. It was by interiorizing the biblical narrative – for those condemned to death, the Passion of Christ – that one took part in such a sanctifying process. The spiritual advisor made the biblical text affective and present, using rhetorical means, in order to transform the heart. After uniting with Christ in the Eucharist the condemned could go to his death on the path to eternal life.

Before the mid-nineteenth century there were few subjects in the altarpiece tradition of the Evangelical Lutheran Church of Finland in which the central figures accompanying Christ were female. Seldom used or new motifs involving female characters now emerged behind the altar. Most of the altarpieces with central women figures were painted in Finland at the turn of the twentieth century by the artist Alexandra Frosterus-Såltin (1837–1916). In the nineteenth century Frosterus-Såltin was the only artist in Finland who realized the motif of ‘Christ Appearing to Mary Magdalene’ in her altarpieces. In her final representation of the theme, the altarpiece in the church of the Finnish Jepua commune, she chose an unusual approach to the motif. My interest in the subject lies in the motif’s affective nature – the ways in which altarpieces in general have been actively used to evoke feelings. Moreover, I consider the influence that Alexandra Frosterus-Såltin, a significant agent in Finnish sacral art, had on consolidating the position of women’s agency in the Finnish altarpiece tradition. I examine the motif in relation to the cultural and political atmosphere of the era, especially the changing gender roles and the understanding of women’s social agency as the women’s movement emerged.

The whole spirit of Christian humanism, as exemplified by Erasmus, makes one think, in Mesnard’s phrase, of ‘mystique légère:’ plenty of of moralism and reformism, with less room for experience; a fruit of it was the Exercices of St Ignatius, in contrast with the alumbrados or even the Rheno-Flemish masters such as Eckhart or even Denys the Carthusian. More may not have so much as heard of Juliana of Norwich, England’s best-known medieval mystic, whereas he recommends Walter Hilton’s Scala perfectionis, and The Following of Christ, as he calls Thomas à Kempis’s classic. The earliest influences perceptible in his life and writings are Pico della Mirandola and John Colet. The Lutheran challenge led him to stress the role of human cooperation with God’s grace in the business of eternal salvation, and the essential role of the Church as interpreter of the Bible. Prison life with the imminence of a martyr’s death colored his meditation on the agony of Christ, and his stress on God as the only source of comfort.

The policy of the Evangelical Lutheran Church of Cameroon concerning polygamy is one of tolerance for polygynous husbands and their plural wives who live in areas untouched by the gospel. To those who live where the gospel has been preached, polygamy is a roadblock to baptism or, for those already baptized, to holy communion. The enforcement of this policy has created painful stress in Cameroonian Christian homes, including the Dowayo community, where the author has lived. As polygamy is a respected form of marriage in the African tradition, the question must be asked: Is monogamy the only marriage model Scripture allows, or is it the only one the missionaries' culture permits? With a concern for both biblical faithfulness and cultural appropriateness, the author searches the Old and New Testaments anew to understand the biblical directives for Christ-centered marriage in the African context.

Abstract The question of inter-confessional marriages concerns all the Churches and has become much more urgent because of the great mobility of contemporary man. The Christian wedding is seen as a sacrament of Christ by the Orthodox Church and the Catholic Church, while the Churches born from the Protestant Reformation do not take this sacramental view, although Luther considers the divine blessing on the institution useful. The advantage of a sacramental perspective lies in the fact that the spouses, by virtue of the sacrament of marriage, become capable of “being married” according to the quality of Christ’s paschal love for his Church. In this way, according to the author, other theological perspectives open up, for example the sequela Christi, the idea of the vocation to Christian marriage, the foundation of the bond of indissolubility-fidelity and the foundation of sexual union-fruitfulness.

AbstractJenson offers an appreciative response to the overtures of Jeffrey Lamp (Scripture), Chris Green (sacraments), Michael Chan (Judaism), and Rick Bliese (the charismatic Spirit). In explicating his theological stance, Jenson calls for a deeper appreciation of the sacramental unity of the Church and of the church's Spirit-shaped history. In regard to Judaism, he calls for Jewish and Christian theologians to think together on shared problems. Jenson accepts the genuineness of charismatic gifts, but he cannot agree with Pentecostalism's doctrine of a Spirit baptism subsequent to water baptism. Finally, he affirms the Church's pursuit of one eucharistic community.

In his recent biography Richard Marius attends above all to Luther’s temperament, which was melancholy and susceptible to haunting fears of death. As the biography breaks off in 1527, Luther is in deep depression and has already published works marred by bitterness and vehemence. The biographer admits his summary judgment that while Luther did bring evangelical freshness to the faith of a few, he contributed to the Reformation precisely the elements that made it catastrophic for the West, as in the religious wars of the century after Luther’s death. Luther, after such a demythologization, can still speak to us about marshaling what talents we have to bring some light to our world. The work presents several aspects of the Church in Luther’s time inaccurately, and on Luther’s theology some of its interpretations also call for correction. But on Luther’s “discovery of the Gospel”, placed in 1519, Marius delineates well the factors exacerbating Luther’s anguish and the flash of light that came from St. Paul as Luther found an evangelical word of consolation and assurance repeatedly communicated in sacramental encounters with Christ. This creates a new dialectic of fear and hope and left Luther still susceptible to depression, especially in reaction to divisions in his own ranks and the many obstacles that blocked smooth implementation of reform.

In Book IV of Calvin'sInstitutes, the ‘external means …by which God invites us into the society of Christ and holds us therein’ consists chiefly in ‘the true church, with which as mother of all the godly we must keep unity’. Like Luther, Calvin could speak ofmater ecclesiawith an unembarrassed reference to the visible, historical community of God's people. The rhetoric of ‘mother church’ did not long remain a part of Protestant sensibility. The Reformation principle of ‘Christ alone’ has often tended to undermine strong claims for the church; conversely, the critique of institutions has played a key role in the shaping of Protestant identity, at times seeming to be the verypointof the Reformation. The distinction assumes classic form in Friedrich Schleiermacher'sThe Christian Faith. Protestant Christianity, Schleiermacher writes, ‘makes the individual's relation to the church dependent on his relation to Christ’, whereas Catholicism ‘makes the individual's relation to Christ dependent on his relation to the church’. This intuition would seem to be confirmed by recent ecumenical dialogue, which has fastened on the church's role in salvation as the most likely candidate for a ‘basic difference’ between Catholicism and Protestantism. At the same time, important voices on both sides have been asking whether such a sharp distinction can or should be sustained.

One of the strongest weapons in the armoury of the Roman Catholic Church has always been its impressive sense of historical continuity. Apologists, such as Bishop Bossuet (1627-1704), liked to tease their Protestant adversaries with the question of where in the world their Church had been before Luther and Calvin. The question shows how important the time between ancient Christianity and the Reformation had become in Catholic apologetics since the sixteenth century. Where the Protestants had to admit that a gap of more than a thousand years separated the early Christian communities from the churches of the Reformation, Catholics could proudly point to the fact that in their Church an unbroken line of succession linked the present hierarchy to Christ and the apostles. This continuity seemed the best proof that other churches were human constructs, whereas the Catholic Church continued the mission of Christ and his disciples. In this argument the Middle Ages were essential, but not a time to dwell upon. It was not until the nineteenth century that in the Catholic Church the Middle Ages began to mean far more than proof of the Church’s unbroken continuity.

In this article, “Protestantism with blood and flesh”, it is argued that a Lutheran theology cannot and should not be reduced to general Protestant principles. Luther’s theology emerged as a result of renewed attentiveness to the basic expressions of the gospel: the audible word of God, the visible sacraments, the bodily aspects of communal life, and the evangelical signs of creation. The so-called Protestant Principles, at their best, are to be regarded as second-order and summarizing expressions of the primary life-utterances of the church, and of the corresponding experiences in ordinary life. Moreover, at a closer inspection the exclusive particles such as solo Christo and sola fide are to be taken as inclusive particles that provide a participation in God, enacted in faith, hope and love.

In October 1992 representatives of the British and Irish Anglican Churches, together with their counterparts from the Nordic and Baltic Lutheran Churches signed an historic agreement near Porvoo in Finland which, if accepted by all these churches, will bring about their closer communion. The Porvoo Common Statement and a supporting dossier of Essays on Church and Ministry in Northern Europe were published in 1993 (Together in Mission and Ministry, Church House Publishing, London). The Porvoo Common Statement is now being considered by the General Synod which will be asked to accept a core Joint Declaration. This begins by a mutual acknowledgement of each other's churches as part of the One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church. A second acknowledgement follows concerning the mutual presence of the Word of God and the Sacraments of baptism and the eucharist;then acknowledgements of the common confession of the apostolic faith and the ministry as both an instrument of grace and as having Christ's commission.

Abstract When Martin Luther wrote his famous hymn Ein feste Burg ist unser Gott in the 1520s, it was uncommon to understand Ps. 46:1–3 [45:1–3 LXX] as a celebration of the peace available to those taking refuge in God amidst raging hostility—as the earth shook and mountains moved into the heart of the sea. Instead, for over a millennium, Augustine’s allegorical interpretation of verse 3 held sway. These verses contained ‘hidden’ truths made known when Christ came, so the shaking earth was the Jews, the mountains were Christ and his apostles, and the sea was the Gentiles in 46:3. According to Augustine, then, 46:1–3 celebrates God’s being a refuge amidst the working out of his plan to redeem the Gentiles through the mission of Christ and his apostles. This essay recounts the reception of 46:1–3 from the Septuagint to the time of Luther in a way that demonstrates the influence of the Septuagint’s translation of the superscription (verse 1), the dominance of Augustine’s allegorical interpretation of 46:1–3 for over a millennium, and how Luther’s growing appreciation of the historical sense shifts his interpretation of 46:1–3 away from Augustine to align with most interpreters in the early church and Nicholas of Lyra.

Abstract All the major sixteenth-century Reformers knew something about the early church and used the early Fathers. As an Augustinian monk and professor of theology, however, Luther’s knowledge and use of the great Father was both deeper and more nuanced. While indebted to Augustine, Luther went further in defining what it meant for theology to be ‘scriptural’. He saw history as the interaction of God’s two regimes, and the church of every age as weak and flawed but conquering through the cross of Christ. This led him to a free use of the Fathers without being constrained to always agree with or imitate them. The comfort he received from the Apostles’ Creed in particular led him to appreciate the early creedal statements, and so it was natural for him to use them as models when formulating the new confessions required in his own day. The sixteenth-century heritage of written confessions of faith is a heritage under-appreciated but still vital for church bodies today.1

The five Solas of the Reformation have a complex history and remain sources not only of doctrinal coalition but conflict. This essay examines the traditional five Solas – sola fide, sola gratia, sola scriptura, solus Christus, and soli Deo gloria – as present in nascent form in the writings of Martin Luther. While the technical terms themselves and their grouping are a later development, the incipient form of each sola is nevertheless evidenced in Luther’s corpus of writing. Having surveyed their presence and inter-relationship in Luther’s thought, the essay argues for the unity of the Solas and their continuing and valuable ability to express and articulate facets of the one revelatory and salvific economy of God, particularly when their function is seen not only as serving polemical ends of rejection and negation, but also and more beneficially outlining positive and properly ordered relations between faith and works, grace and gratitude, Scripture and tradition, Christ and the church, and God and the world. The essay concludes that if one of the Solas serves as the first among equals and the interpretive key to the others, it is that of Christ alone, and thus argues for a Christological interpretation of them all.

ABSTRACT: The text of Cantata BWV 106 shows two forms of organization: symmetry and chronology. The former is shown by similar sets of correspondences in the musical texture, which display the antithesis: death under the Law versus death under the Gospel. The latter is visible in the four solos and central fugue/solo/chorale complex between the prologue and doxology. The chronology passes through the stages of the history of Israel to the coming of Christ, his death on the cross, and the era of the Christian church. The sequence can be read as an internal progression from fear of death and acceptance of its inevitability to faith in Christ and in the promise of the Gospel, and finally, to the willingness of the believer to die in Christ and his church. KEYWORDS: Luther, death, law, gospel, faith, sleep.

A late medieval paper amulet containing prayers to St. Dorothy and the Holy Cross was found in a demolished part of a medieval wooden stave church in Torpo, Norway. This article examines the content and the function of this textual amulet by placing it in a wider Scandinavian and Western European context. From the perspective of materiality and sensory-based religious practices, this article will explore the connection between the textual amulet found in Torpo and its relation to the now-lost large wooden cross in Torpo church, and to crosses believed to be wonderworking or miraculous in its proximity. By doing so, this study will shed light on the apotropaic and healing potential that the material and immaterial cross offered the pious in late medieval Norway. The last part of this article addresses the Post-Reformation theological understanding of the amulet, and its use and function in Lutheran Norwegian society.

One of the main postulates of the reformation movement, apart from the theological questions, was a proposal of the internal reform of the church institution. The Father of the Reformation,as Rev. Martin Luther is called in the source literature, raised the questions concerning the mission of the Church, its role in the magisterium, and also and perhaps above all its hierarchical structure and about the role of the clergy in the process of the eternal salvation. As a result of his reflections and probably his observations and his own experiences Luther undermined in succession different dogmatic, theological questions as well as those regarding the organization of the Roman Catholic Church. Slogans of renewal and reforms of the church structure spread very rapidly through the territory of German Reich, gaining numerous supporters among European nations. One of those for whom the Reformation ideas became the main field of activity was French man John Calvin. That well-rounded, well educated and well-read lawyer, knowing the main works of the German monk, acquired his principal theses postulating the changes in the functioning of the Church. Additionally, Calvin made a division of the Church between the earthly – the visible and the heavenly – the invisible one, and the person who bonds it, guarantees its unity and permanency, the indivisibility is the only and the highest Priest – Jesus Christ. In the work of his life Institucio Religionis Christianae Calvin embodied a full picture of the Christian Church as, in his opinion, it should be. Analysing particular issues regarding the function of the clergymen, the pope, celebrating the sacraments, penance and conversion, and also the eternal salvation, we are given the basic compendium of knowledge concerning the ecclesiology by John Calvin. His teaching about the Church, although in some points different in from the preaching of Rev. Martin Luther, however oscillates within the principal slogans of Reformation: Sola Fides –the man is saved solely by faith, Sola Gratia – God’s grace is necessary for salvation, Sola Scriptura – the only source of faith is the Holy Bible. He also added the idea: Solus Christus – only Christ saves, He is in the centre of The Church, we can observe Calvin’s Christ centred attitude in his preaching and in building ideological basics of the reformed denomination.

In debate with Roman Catholics and Lutherans about the physical presence of Christ in the eucharistic elements, Calvin argued that, since Christ had ascended into heaven (i.e. the spiritual realm or kingdom of God), we must not look for him on the table but ‘lift up our hearts’ to heaven and seek him there. The idea is well known to Calvin scholars, but it still raises many questions. Can Calvin mean that our souls are literally raised up to heaven? Are we supposed to experience some sort of heavenly elevation? And, if this notion is so strange to us, even those of us in Calvinist circles, how was it so readily available to Calvin and his readers? To answer these questions, we shall examine the texts more closely and inquire into their patristic background.

Síntese: O presente artigo tem por meta identificar uma possível contribuição da Reforma Protestante para com a ação evangelizadora da Igreja Católica atual, tomando como chave de leitura a doutrina da justificação pela fé, pensada por Lutero. O foco principal é o retorno ao Evangelho, em face da afirmação de Lutero de que somente a fé em Cristo é o fundamento da justificação. O teólogo belga José Comblin auxilia-nos nessa tarefa, quando afirma que o Evangelho é a vocação para a liberdade.Palavras-chave: Reforma Protestante. Liberdade. Justificação. Evangelho.Abstract: The present article has as its purpose to identify a possible contribution of the Protestant Reform with the evangelizing action of the actual Catholic Church taking as the key the reading of the justification by faith as presented by Luther. The principal focus is on the return to the Gospel in face of Luther’s affirmation that only faith in Christ is the foundation of justification. The Belgian theologian José Comblin helps us in this work when he affirms that the Gospel is a vocation to liberty.Keywords: Protestant Reform. Liberty. Justification. Gospel.

In this article, Dr. John Barclay’s work in Pauline studies and particularly his research on the ancient notion of gift (charis [χάρις]) will be used to inform the modern social—and really the theological—predicament of race and place for the church of Jesus Christ. While reviews and reflections of Barclay’s work have focused on the author’s place in the so-called New Perspective and intertestamental understandings of soteriological constructs in the NT, his theological utility for systematics engaging in the social sciences, ethics and practical theology have largely remained unexplored. Civil rights leader, Martin Luther King Jr., famously opined, ‘We must face the fact that…the church is still the most segregated major institution…’ With this in mind, Barclay offers a genuine gift to our understanding of charis, which has implications for the post-segregated church today as she finds herself in a racialized world of brokenness and disparity. This paper will aim to creatively explore the theological utility of Barclay’s work in this intersection of race and place for the church, as she bears witness to the gracious gift of God in Christ.

The pericope in Jas 2:14–17 has become iconic in our modern church culture. Although we quote from it regularly—“faith without works is dead”—we do not live it faithfully. In reimagining the body of Christ, the theme of this issue, it seems that the book of James and Luther’s response to it reflect the tensions we live in today. We are a society with a legal system built off the ideology of retributive justice. We are a society that claims to be built on Christian principles, yet James points to a very different justice system. James 2:13 states that “Mercy triumphs over judgment!” Although James never condones breaking the law (2:10–11), he does encourage mercy in place of judgment (2:13), especially when engaging the poor. Luther called biblical James a “book of straw,” as he touted his own mantra, sola fide, leaving us with a very significant dilemma. How should we understand saving faith? Does it simply require praying “the sinner’s prayer and shaking the pastor’s hand?” or ought it to be coupled with “works” becoming to one who has chosen to follow Jesus?

Abstract<title> ABSTRACT </title>WalterSparn offers aresponseto Wolfgang Klausnitzer'spaperfor the sixtieth anniversary ofDietrich Bonhoeffer's death.Sparnis ingeneral agreement withKlausnitzer's interpretation.Sparn emphasises theneedtore-understand Bonhoeffer's polemicagainst 'religion'.He isalsoinagreement withKlausnitzer insituating Bonhoefferin relationto the current paradigm shiftin BiblicalStudies. Sparn elucidatesBonhoeffer's understandingof the Church as ahermeneuticalcommunity, as well as the consequences for the churchesintermsofradicalchange. Sparniscontent to endorse theunderstandingthatBonhoeffershares withIgnatius LoyolaandMartin Luther intheheritageof devotio moderna. But he challenges Klausnitzer's appeal to Rahner's transcendental 'original experience'.

The National Study of Youth and Religion (NSYR) claims moralistic therapeutic deism as the popular religion among our youth.1 The Study of Exemplary Congregations in Youth Ministry (EYM) discovered that exemplary congregations are one's who speak about God as one who is present and active.2 The God of moralistic therapeutic deism can not be present and active. Is God present and active? If so, how do our youth experience and interpret this presence and activity? This article gives voice to the ways in which youth of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA) experience Christ's presence and activity. It finds that placing their subjective interpretations of these experiences into conversation with their tradition's interpretation of Christ's presence and activity as represented by Gustaf Wingren's creation-faith enhances both how they and their tradition understand God's work in our world. The exemplar descriptor for the experiences heard among these youth is referred to as proleptic vocational recapitulation.

At the beginning of his De captivitate Babylonica ecclesiae praeludium of early October 1520, Luther announced that there, were not seven sacraments of the Church, but only three – baptism, penance, and the Lord’s Supper. By the end of the treatise, the three had been reduced to two. His reasoning was starkly logical. A sacrament, to be a sacrament, must contain the promise of forgiveness of sins, and have attached to it a visible sign instituted by Jesus Christ. Because no such visible sign is associated with the rite, penance cannot be a sacrament. A reasonable inference to draw is that Luther must have come to reject the sacramentality of penance by the time he composed De captivitate Babylonica, in perhaps August 1520.

“It is a special joy for me to hear that our good and pious table companion and house guest [Robert Barnes] has been so graciously called by God to pour out his blood for the sake of God's dear Son and to become a holy martyr.” Martin Luther's reflection on the death of this friend, the English churchman and diplomat, in 1540typified his attitude toward martyrdom as his followers experienced it at the hands of Roman Catholic opponents. He continued, “Thanks, praise, and honor be to the Father of our dear Lord Jesus Christ, who has let us see the same kind of times which were seen at the beginning [of the church], times in which his Christians, who had eaten and drunk with us (as the apostles said of Christ, Acts 4 ) … are taken away before our very eyes and from our eyes and our side to martyrdom (that is, to heaven) and become saints.”

This article aims at revealing the connections between the ideals of renewal contained in the European devotions of the Late Middle Ages and those of the missionaries during the first wave of the Evangelization of Mexico. Inspired by a variety of spiritual movements aimed at building an indigenous church and centred on upholding the Law of Christ, these missionaries concur with both the reformers of the Brethren of the Common Life and Luther’s political philosophy of attaining a perfect communitas. This research focuses on demonstrating how the ideals of spiritual renewal articulated by Franciscan mystics and missionaries in the Americas embraced the same theological sources as those used by Groote, Eckhart and à Kempis in the Late Middle Ages.

One of the most significant and rewarding experiences for me during my tenure as general secretary of the Baptist World Alliance was to sponsor an International Summit on Baptists against Racism and Ethnic Conflict. This significant summit was held from January 8 – 11, 1999, in the historic Ebenezer Baptist Church in Atlanta, Georgia, Martin Luther King Jr.'s home church. At this summit we learned of the tragedy of racism worldwide. We learned that we needed to expand our definition of racism to include ethnic violence. We came as Christians and discovered the power of Christ to bring reconciliation and unity. The latter part of this article will review some of the horrific examples of racism and ethnic conflict worldwide. We will also celebrate the prophetic witness of many Baptist congregations worldwide in fighting against racism and ethnic violence.

Böhm’s mysticism aroused the opposition of orthodox Lutheranism. Evangelical parish priest of the Peter and Paul church in Görlitz Gregorius Richter suspect a heresy in Aurora and threate- ned Böhm with banishment. Numerous Aurora texts indicate that Böhme took into account the four principles of the Reformation. Böhm’s Aurora contains the reformational principle the grace itself and the anthropology implied by it, about the non-free will of human being. While in Luther thoughts were dominated by the functional Christology, in the Böhme’s – essential Christology. The essence of this Christology is to call Christ Aurora. From the essential Christology, Böhme, however, derived a functional conclusion, which is the postulate of the following Christ. In contrast to Luther, who focused on the des qua, Böhme focuses primarily on des quae. Although Auroracontains numerous references to the Bible, the very title of Böhme’s most famous work is the result of an experience with a tin vessel. Luther would blame Böhme of illumination, that is, the possibili- ty of an internal, omitting the biblical Word, communicating the Spirit of God with human. Böhme was a theosophist, means either theologian and philosopher, in one person. As a theologian, he drew the knowledge from God’s revelation, and as a philosopher he perceived the traces of God in the world. He had a premonition that reason and faith can not contradict themselves, because ultimately they have a common source in God.

ABSTRACTSince the Anglican Church has neither a teaching Magisterium of the Roman model, nor a binding Confession of Faith as in some Lutheran and Reformed traditions, it has become commonplace to invoke the dictum Lex orandi, Lex credendi and claim that Anglican doctrine is enshrined in its liturgy. This of course may have made some sense when all Anglican Prayer Books had not wandered far from the 1662, or even 1637/1764 texts, but it becomes much more problematic today, when, even with ‘guidelines’ issued by the International Anglican Liturgical Consultation (which have only the authority a Province wishes to give them), Provincial liturgies grow further and further away from any common prayer texts. This is particularly pertinent in an ecumenical context with regard to the Anglican understanding of its threefold ministry. The Preface to the Ordinal (1550, 1552 and 1662) stated: ‘It is evident unto all men diligently reading the Holy Scriptures and ancient authors that from the Apostles' time there have been these orders of Ministers in Christ's Church, Bishops, Priests and Deacons’.

A Rooted Man and a Sacred PoetBy Viggo MortensenA Review of A.M. Allchin: N.F.S. Grundtvig. An Introduction to his Life and Work. With an afterword by Nicholas Lossky. 338 pp. Writings published by the Grundtvig Society, Århus University Press, 1997.Canon Arthur Macdonald Allchin’s services to Grundtvig research are wellknown to the readers of Grundtvig Studier, so I shall not attempt to enumerate them. But he has now presented us and the world with a brilliant synthesis of his studies of Grundtvig, a comprehensive, thorough and fundamental introduction to Grundtvig, designed for the English-speaking world. Fortunately, the rest of us are free to read as well.It has always been a topic of discussion in Denmark whether Grundtvig can be translated, whether he can be understood by anyone except Danes who have imbibed him with their mother’s milk, so to speak. Allchin is an eloquent proof that it can be done. Grundtvig can be translated and he can be made comprehensible to people who do not belong in Danish culture only, and Allchin spells out a recipe for how it can be done. What is required is for one to enter Grundtvig’s universe, but to enter it as who one is, rooted in one’s own tradition. That is what makes Allchin’s book so exciting and innovative - that he poses questions to Grundtvig’s familiar work from the vantage point of the tradition he comes from, thus opening it up in new and surprising ways.The terms of the headline, »a rooted man« and »a sacred poet« are used about Grundtvig in the book, but they may in many ways be said to describe Allchin, too. He, too, is rooted in a tradition, the Anglican tradition, but also to a large extent the tradition taken over from the Church Fathers as it lives on in the Orthodox Church. Calling him a sacred poet may be going too far.Allchin does not write poetry, but he translates Grundtvig’s prose and poetry empathetically, even poetically, and writes a beautiful and easily understood English.Allchin combines the empathy with the distance necessary to make a renewed and renewing reading so rewarding: »Necessarily things are seen in a different perspective when they are seen from further away. It may be useful for those whose acquaintance with Grundtvig is much closer, to catch a glimpse of his figure as seen from a greater distance« (p. 5). Indeed, it is not only useful, it is inspiring and capable of opening our eyes to new aspects of Grundtvig.The book falls into three main sections. In the first section an overview of Grundtvig’s life and work is given. It does not claim to be complete which is why Allchin only speaks about »Glimpses of a Life«, the main emphasis being on the decisive moments of Grundtvig’s journey to himself. In five chapters, Grundtvig’s way from birth to death is depicted. The five chapters cover: Childhood to Ordination 1783-1811; Conflict and Vision 1811-29; New Directions, Inner and Outer 1829-39; Unexpected Fulfilment 1839-58; and Last Impressions 1858-72. As it will have appeared, Allchin does not follow the traditional division, centred around the familiar years. On the contrary, he is critical of the attempts to focus everything on such »matchless discoveries«; rather than that he tends to emphasize the continuity in the person’s life as well as in his writings. Thus, about Thaning’s attempt to make 1832 the absolute pivotal year it is said: »to see this change as an about turn is mistaken« (p. 61).In the second main section of the book Allchin identifies five main themes in Grundtvig’s work: Discovering the Church; The Historic Ministry; Trinity in Unity; The Earth made in God’s Image; A simple, cheerful, active Life on Earth. It does not quite do Allchin justice to say that he deals with such subjects as the Church, the Office, the Holy Trinity, and Creation theology.His own subtitles, mentioned above, are much more adequate indications of the content of the section, since they suggest the slight but significant differences of meaning that Allchin masters, and which are immensely enlightening.It also becomes clear that it is Grundtvig as a theologian that is the centre of interest, though this does not mean that his work as educator of the people, politician, (history) scholar, and poet is neglected. It adds a wholeness to the presentation which I find valuable.The third and longest section of the book, The Celebration of Faith, gives a comprehensive introduction to Grundtvig’s understanding of Christianity, as it finds expression in his sermons and hymns. The intention here is to let Grundtvig speak for himself. This is achieved through translations of many of his hymns and long extracts from his sermons. Allchin says himself that if there is anything original about his book, it depends on the extensive use of the sermons to illustrate Grundtvig’s understanding of Christianity. After an introduction, Eternity in Time, the exposition is arranged in the pattern of the church year: Advent, Christmas, Annunciation, Easter and Whitsun.In the section about the Annunciation there is a detailed description of the role played by the Virgin Mary and women as a whole in Grundtvig’s understanding of Christianity. He finishes the section by quoting exhaustively from the Catholic theologian Charles Moeller and his views on the Virgin Mary, bearing the impress of the Second Vatican Council, and he concludes that in all probability Grundtvig would not have found it necessary to disagree with such a Reformist Catholic view. Finally there are two sections about The Sign of the Cross and The Ministry of Angels. The book ends with an epilogue, where Allchin sums up in 7 points what modem features he sees in Gmndtvig.Against the fragmented individualism of modem times, he sets Gmndtvig’s sense of cooperation and interdependence. In a world plagued with nationalism, Gmndtvig is seen as an example of one who takes national identity seriously without lapsing into national chauvinism. As one who values differences, Grundtvig appeals to a time that cherishes special traditions.Furthermore Gmndtvig is one of the very greatest ecumenical prophets of the 19th century. In conclusion Allchin translates »Alle mine Kilder« (All my springs shall be in you), »Øjne I var lykkelige« (Eyes you were blessed indeed) and »Lyksaligt det Folk, som har Øre for Klang« (How blest are that people who have an ear for the sound). Thus, in a sense, these hymns become the conclusion of the Gmndtvig introduction. The point has been reached when they can be sung with understanding.While reading Allchin’s book it has been my experience that it is from his interpretation of the best known passages and poems that I have learned most. The familiar stanzas which one has sung hundreds of times are those which one is quite suddenly able to see new aspects in. When, for example, Allchin interprets »Langt højere Bjerge« (Far Higher Mountains), involving Biblical notions of the year of jubilee, it became a new and enlightening experience for me. But the Biblical reference is characteristic. A Biblical theologian is at work here.Or when he interprets »Et jævnt og muntert virksomt Liv paa Jord« (A Simple Cheerful Active Life on Earth), bringing Holger Kjær’s memorial article for Ingeborg Appel into the interpretation. In less than no time we are told indirectly that the most precise understanding of what a simple, cheerful, active life on earth is is to be found in Benedict of Nursia’s monastic mle.That, says Allchin, leads us to the question »where we are to place the Gmndtvigian movement in the whole spectmm of Christian movements of revival which are characteristic of Protestantism« (p. 172). Then - in a comparison with revival movements of a Pietistic and Evangelical nature – Allchin proceeds to give a description of a Grundtvigianism which is culturally open, but nevertheless has close affinities with a medieval, classical, Western monastic tradition: a theocentric humanism. »It is one particular way of knitting together the clashing archetypes of male and female, human and divine, in a renunciation of evil and an embracing of all which is good and on the side of life, a way of making real in the frailties and imperfections of flesh and blood a deeply theocentric humanism« (p. 173).Now, there is a magnificent English sentence. And there are many of them. Occasionally some of the English translations make the reader prick up his ears, such as when Danish »gudelige forsamlinger« becomes »meetings of the godly«. I learnt a few new words, too (»niggardliness« and »esemplastic«) the meaning of which I had to look up; but that is only to be expected from a man of learning like Allchin. But otherwise the book is written in an easily understood and beautiful English. This is also true of the large number of translations, about which Allchin himself says that he has been »tantalised and at times tormented« by the problems connected with translating Grundtvig, particularly, of course, his poetry. Naturally Allchin is fully aware that translation always involves interpretation. When for example he translates Danish »forklaret« into »transfigured«, that choice pulls Grundtvig theologically in the direction that Allchin himself inclines towards. This gives the reader occasion to reflect. It is Allchin’s hope that his work on translating Grundtvig will be followed up by others. »To translate Grundtvig in any adequate way would be the work of not one person but of many, not of one effort but of many. I hope that this preliminary study may set in train a process of Grundtvig assimilation and affirmation« (p. 310)Besides being an introduction to Grundtvig, the book also becomes an introduction to past and contemporary Danish theology and culture. But contemporary Danish art, golden age painting etc. are also brought in and interpreted.As a matter of course, Allchin draws on the whole of the great Anglo-Saxon tradition: Blake, Constable, Eliot, etc., indeed, there are even quite frequent references to Allchin’s own Welsh tradition. In his use of previous secondary literature, Allchin is very generous, quoting it frequently, often concurring with it, and sometimes bringing in half forgotten contributions to the literature on Grundtvig, such as Edvard Lehmann’s book from 1929. However, he may also be quite sharp at times. Martin Marty, for example, must endure being told that he has not understood Grundtvig’s use of the term folkelig.Towards the end of the book, Allchin discusses the reductionist tactics of the Reformers. Anything that is not absolutely necessary can be done away with. Thus, what remains is Faith alone, Grace alone, Christ alone. The result was a radical Christ monism, which ended up with undermining everything that it had originally been the intention to defend. But, says Allchin, Grundtvig goes the opposite way. He does not question justification by faith alone, but he interprets it inclusively. The world in all its plenitude is created in order that joy may grow. There is an extravagance and an exuberance in the divine activity. In a theology that wants to take this seriously, themes like wonder, growth and joy must be crucial.Thus, connections are also established back to the great church tradition. It is well-known how Grundtvig received decisive inspiration from the Fathers of the Eastern Church. Allchin’s contribution is to show that it grows out of a need by Grundtvig himself, and he demonstrates how it manifests itself concretely in Grundtvig’s writings. »Perhaps he had a deep personal need to draw on the wisdom and insight of earlier ages, on the qualities which he finds in the sacred poetry of the Anglo-Saxons, in the liturgical hymns of the Byzantine Church, in the monastic theology of the early medieval West. He needs these resources for his own life, and he is able to transpose them into his world of the nineteenth century, which if it is no longer our world is yet a world in which we can still feel at home. He can be for us a vital link, a point of connection with these older worlds whose riches he had deciphered and transcribed with such love and labour« (p. 60).Thus the book gives us a discussion - more detailed than seen before – of Grundtvig’s relationship to the Apostolic Succession, the sacramental character of the Church and Ordination, and the phenomenon transfiguration which is expounded, partly by bringing in Jakob Knudsen. On the background of the often observed emphasis laid by Grundtvig on the descent into Hell and the transfiguration, his closeness to the orthodox form of Christianity is established. Though Grundtvig does not directly use the word »theosis« or deification, the heart of the matter is there, the matter that has been given emphasis first and foremost in the bilateral talks between the Finnish Lutheran Church and the Russian Orthodox Church. But Grundtvig’s contribution is also seen in the context of other contemporaries and reforming efforts, Khomiakov in Russia, Johann Adam Möhler in Germany, and Keble, Pusey and Newman in England. It is one of Allchin’s major regrets that it did not come to an understanding between the leaders of the Oxford Movement and Grundtvig. If an actual meeting and a fruitful dialogue had materialized, it might have exerted some influence also on the ecumenical situation of today.Allchin shows how the question of the unity of the Church and its universality as God’s Church on earth acquired extreme importance to Grundtvig. »The question of rediscovering Christian unity became a matter of life and death« (p. 108). It is clear that in Allchin’s opinion there has been too little attention on this aspect of Grundtvig. Among other things he attributes it to a tendency in the Danish Church to cut itself off from the rest of the Christian world, because it thinks of itself as so special. And this in a sense is the case, says Allchin. »Where else, at the end of the twentieth century, is there a Church which is willing that a large part of its administration should be carried on by a government department? Where else is there a state which is still willing to take so much responsibility for the administration of the Church’s life?« (p. 68). As will be seen: Allchin is a highly sympathetic, but far from uncritical observer of Danish affairs.When Allchin sees Grundtvig as an ecumenical theologian, it is because he keeps crossing borders between Protestantism and Catholicism, between eastern and western Christianity. His view of Christianity is thus »highly unitive« (p. 310). Grundtvig did pioneer work to break through the stagnation brought on by the church schisms of the Reformation. »If we can see his efforts in that way, then the unfinished business of 1843 might still give rise to fruitful consequences one hundred and fifty years later. That would be a matter of some significance for the growth of the Christian faith into the twentyfirst century, and not only in England and Denmark« (p. 126).In Nicholas Lossky’s Afterword it is likewise Grundtvig’s effort as a bridge builder between the different church groupings that is emphasized. Grundtvig’s theology is seen as a »truly patristic approach to the Christian mystery« (p. 316). Thus Grundtvig becomes a true all-church, universal, »catholic« theologian, for »Catholicity is by definition unity in diversity or diversity in unity« (p. 317).With views like those presented here, Allchin has not only introduced Grundtvig and seen him in relation to present-day issues, but has also fruitfully challenged a Danish Grundtvig tradition and Grundtvigianism. It would be a pity if no one were to take up that challenge.

Gudbilledlighed og syndefald. - Aspekter af Grundtvigs og Kierkegaards menneskesyn på baggrund af Irenæus.[The Image and Likeness of God and the Fall of the Human Being. - Aspects of Grundtvig's and Kierkegaard's Conceptions of the Human Being in light of Irenaeus]By Niels Jørgen CappelørnIn his account of the human being, the early church father Irenaeus, the bishop of Lyon (in the second century, C.E.), makes a distinction between imago dei and similitudo dei based on the Genesis account of the creation of human beings in the image and likeness of God (Gen 1:26-27). It is the thesis of this article that this distinction can be traced in the works of N. F. S. Grundtvig and Soren Kierkegaard and that this distinction opens possibilities for finding and demonstrating new and parallel elements in Grundvig’s and Kierkegaard’s respective conceptions of the human person, particularly concerning the relationship between the image and likeness of God in human beings and the Fall.Grundtvig studied Irenaeus for the first time in 1823 and produced a translation of the fifth and final book of his apologetic work, Adversus haereses, in 1827. Kierkegaard seems not to have studied Irenaeus’ own texts, but a good ten years after Grundtvig’s translation he read about the theology of Irenaeus in Johannes Adam Mohler’s Athanasius der Große und die Kirche seiner Zeit from 1827.Irenaeus’ conception of the human being with regard to both the Fall and the rebirth in Christ can be summarized as follows: The human being consists of body and soul, which is its substance, and this substance must become united with the Spirit of God if the individual is to become a complete spiritual person. What was lost in Adam is won in Christ. But not all was lost with the Fall. The image of God is still within the human soul while the likeness of God, which resides in the human spirit, has been lost and must be reborn of the Holy Spirit.The image of God in the soul is freedom, and this remains with human beings. At times, this freedom assents to the flesh and falls into earthly desire, at times it follows the will of God and submits to His Spirit, which is granted anew in Christ.The account here of Grundtvig’s conception of the human being - specifically with regard to the consequences of the Fall for the image and likeness of God that was endowed to human beings at creation – is based on Den christelige Børnelærdom, [Elementary Christian Doctrine], which was first published in a series of articles in 1855-61 and which was later republished in book form in 1868. Additionally, it is based on a series of hymns and spiritual songs from the same period, especially “Hvor skal jeg Guds Billed finde?” [Where Shall I God’s Image Find?] and “I Begyndelsen var Ordet / Gjenlyds-Ordet i vort Bryst,” [In the Beginning Was the Word / The Resonating Word in Our Breast] together with a sermon from 1839 on Mark 7: 31-37, and finally, ‘Christenhedens Syvstjeme’ [The Pleiades of Christendom] (1854-55).The corresponding account of Kierkegaard’s conception is based on several sources: The Concept of Anxiety (1844) where the author engages in a critical rejection of the Augustinian-Lutheran understanding of inherited sin; “An Occasional Discourse” and “What We Learn from the Lilies in the Field and the Birds of the Air” from Upbuilding Discouses in Various Spirits (1847); and his discourses for Friday Communion in Christian Discourses (1848), in Three Discourses at Communion on Fridays. The High Priest - The Tax Collector - The Woman Who Sinned (1849) and in Two Discourses at the Communion on Friday (1851). Additionally, a series of other texts is consulted, including passages from Philosophical Fragments (1844) and Journals EE (1839) and HH (\ 840-41).These two respective accounts reveal that the thesis of the article cannot be comprehensively applied in every detail and for every text; the constmction is too schematic and static to do justice to Gmndtvig’s dynamics and Kierkegaard’s dialectics. But as a backdrop to a reading and comparison of their respective conceptions of the human being with regard to the Fall and its consequences for the image and likeness of God in human beings, it has been helpful to treat essential aspects of their respective anthropologies.Both Gmndtvig and Kierkegaard agree with Irenaeus that human beings consist of a triad: body, soul and spirit. And they share the conviction that human beings possess an original divine stamp, established in creation, in the form of the image and likeness of God.This stamp has not completely perished with regard to the image of God, but with regard to the likeness of God, it has been lost – though Grundtvig and Kierkegaard do not make the distinction between imago dei and similitudo dei as sharply.In Grundtvig, one finds first and foremost that despite the Fall, a positive element of God’s image survives in the soul as “the resonating word” which can both hear and utter God’s creative Word. In Kierkegaard, one finds first and foremost that because of the Fall a negative element of God’s image is left behind as a cracked and split freedom which is, however, manifest positively as a consciousness of sin and a desire for God. For both of them - insofar as Irenaeus’ distinction can be sustained - a remnant of God’s image in the soul remains while the likeness of God in the spirit has been lost. They likewise agree that God’s Spirit is the driving force for both the renewal and reunification of the image and likeness of God. For Grundtvig, this renewal of the image of God and the rebirth of the likeness of God takes place through the Holy Spirit in Baptism. For Kierkegaard, where Baptism does not have the same signifying meaning, it takes place in the interaction between Confession and Communion.Grundtvig maintains a clear axis between Baptism and Communion, with an emphasis on Baptism as the place where human “sin-guilt,” which is a consequence of the Fall, is forgiven and erased once and for all. By contrast, Kierkegaard inserts a third element, Confession, so that the schema appears as follows: Baptism, Confession, Communion, but with an emphasis on Confession as the place where human beings confess their sins and God grants His forgiveness. Grundvig underscores first and foremost that Baptism is a spiritual bath of rebirth and, secondly, that it is a covenant. To be sure, they are in agreement that Baptism must be appropriated in faith but Kierkegaard, more than Grundtvig, insists that human beings constantly fall away from and break the covenant. It is here that the confessee’s admission of sin and the absolved one’s reception of God’s forgiveness in Confession receives decisive significance as a preparation to and precondition for going to Communion worthily and for accepting forgiveness at the Lord’s table.In neither of them is there a mention of a “creation anew” in the form of a second creatio ex nihilo (creation from nothing) - at least not as the dominant theme - but rather a renewal, a rebirth, a redemption, a restoration, a repetition, and a reunification in spirit and truth. While Grundtvig, who thinks especially dynamically and metaphorically, places emphasis on the homogeneous quality of the states before and after the Fall or, more specifically, before and after renewal and rebirth, Kierkegaard - who thinks more dialectically and conceptually - points to the heterogeneous quality. For both of them, one can speak of a growth: in Grundtvig, a growth in faith, hope and charity; in Kierkegaard, a growth in faith and especially in following Christ as truth which brings about a sanctifying fellowship of love and suffering in Christ.

Despite significant ecumenical discussion on justification, what is still needed is a trinitarian understanding of the doctrine that is filled out by the Holy Spirit's work to bring about justice through new creation. This view seeks to move beyond the preoccupation with meritorious works indicative of the forensic model of justification and to concentrate instead on the life-transforming righteousness of the kingdom of God. Both Luther and Paul support the idea of justification as achieved through the Spirit's work in the death and resurrection of Christ to deliver the oppressed and to make all things new, thus fulfilling redemptive justice for all of creation and between creation and God. Such righteousness is reckoned to us in faith as bearers of the Spirit of new life and is lived out in the here and now as the church seeks to be agents of new life in the world.

The issue of racial reconciliation has been a major concern for me since the days of my youth in Youngstown, Ohio. I was blessed to see the growth and development of African American people during the civil rights era. There were, however, racial tensions of a major magnitude during my days in junior high and high school. It was the first time we (students from Thorn Hill) had ever experienced racism because our elementary school was 99.8 percent black. I had to live in a whole new world when six primary grade schools were condensed into one junior high school. In high school, it became increasingly evident to me that there was a white world and a black world. Attending Howard University definitely heightened my anger and resentment towards white people. Howard was the Mecca of black power and intellectual thinking. By God's grace, after eight years in corporate America, I accepted my call to preach the Gospel of Jesus Christ and realized that hatred had no place in the heart and mind of a servant of the Son of God. The seminary experience at The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary was equally frustrating at times even though I had the blessings of the seminary's leadership, thus becoming the first Martin Luther King, Jr. Fellow. Through twenty-five years of pastoring and thirty years of spreading the Gospel, I have gained additional insights into how we must eradicate racism in our society. Through my position in the Progressive National Baptist Convention as National Chairperson for “Social Action on Public Policy,” I realize how difficult is the task at hand. Research and writings on “Racial Reconciliation” are my own convictions and struggles to support the Church of God in becoming all that Jesus Christ had intended for it to be.

The scathing insults that fill texts by sixteenth-century Christian reformers can shock even a jaded modern reader. In the prefatory letter to the Babylonian Captivity of the Church (1520), for example, Martin Luther begins by wishing for “grace and peace in Christ” before launching his attack on the “brainless and illiterate beast in papist form” and its “whole filthy pack of … asses,” and concludes by exhorting his reader to rise up against the Catholic hierarchy: “Continue courageously, noble sir; in this way the disgrace of the Bohemian name will be abolished, and the sludge of the harlot's lies and whoring shall again be taken up in her breast.” Or consider the nasty invectives by the English Lord Chancellor and future Catholic martyr, Thomas More, against not only Luther but also Matthew Tyndale, who translated the Bible into English. More calls these men the “devil's disciples”: Luther “a pimp, an apostate, a rustic, and a friar”; and Tyndale “a babbler, and a devil's ape.” Even Desiderius Erasmus, the erudite Catholic humanist, filled his writings with insults both satirical and blunt and proclaimed that theologians “are more stupid than any pig” (sue stupidiores). Fierce words commonly appear in the midst of religious controversies, and one may choose to skim past this hyperbolic outrage in search of the real message. Insulting rhetoric, however, does provide a sensitive barometer of religious concerns in the sixteenth century and yields unexpectedly complex answers to a simple question. What does negative speech accomplish?

AbstractCatholic theologians after Trent saw the Protestant teaching about the remnants of original sin in the justified as one of the ‘chief ’ errors of Protestant soteriology. Martin Luther, John Calvin, Martin Chemnitz, and many Protestant theologians believed that a view of concupiscence as sinful, strictly speaking, did away with any reliance on good works. This conviction also clarified the Christian’s dependence on the imputed righteousness of Christ. Catholic theologians condemned this position as detracting from the work of Christ who takes away the sins of the world. The rejection of this teaching—and the affirmation of Trent’s statement that original sin is taken away and that the justified at baptism is without stain or ‘immaculate’ before God—is essential for understanding Catholic opposition to Protestant soteriology. Two Spanish Dominican Thomists, Domingo de Soto and Bartolomé de Medina, rejected the Protestant teaching on imputation in part because of its connection with the view on the remnants of original sin in the justified. Adrian and Peter van Walenburch, brothers who served as auxiliary bishops of Cologne in the second half of the seventeenth century, argued that the Protestants of their time now agreed with the Catholic Church on a number of soteriological points. They also drew upon some of their post–Tridentine predecessors to offer a Catholic account of the imputation of Christ’s righteousness. Nonetheless, the issue of sin in the justified remained a point of serious controversy.

Despite the excessive claims sometimes made for the unity and consistency of Calvin's thought, there is no evidence to suggest that he ever varied his views on the distinctive marks of the church. From the first edition of the Institute to the last, the formula remains unchanged: ‘Wherever we see the Word of God purely preached and heard, and the sacraments administered according to Christ's institution, there, it is not to be doubted, a church of God exists.’ It has long been recognized that the notion of the two marks of the church is not original to Calvin, but derives from the Augsburg Confession of 1530, in which the faithful teaching of the gospel and the proper administration of the sacraments are said to designate the assembly of all believers (art. 7). Like Luther and Melanchthon, but unlike the framers of the Scots and Belgic Confessions, the French Reformer does not make discipline an explicit mark of the church. Nevertheless, so central an element is it in his ecclesiology that it is always found in the closest relationship with Word and sacraments. The Word is not only to be preached but ‘reverently heard’; it is a ‘royal sceptre’ to which all hearts and minds are to be brought in willing submission. Similarly the sacraments are, through the Spirit, manifest signs of God's work within us, ‘softening the stubbornness of our heart, and composing it to that obedience which it owes the Word of the Lord’.

Protestantism and Eastern OrthodoxyThe relations between Protestantism and Eastern Orthodoxy span five centuries and bear upon nu-merous aspects, hence, only some items can be dealt with here. First, I discuss the late-sixteenth-century correspondence between German Lutheran theologians and Patriarch Jeremiah II of Constan-tinople, the Calvinist leanings of Patriarch Cyril Lukaris, and the influx of Protestant missionaries into traditionally Orthodox territory. Second, I outline the rise of a 'counter movement’, i.e. the Ecumeni-cal Movement, and the aim and structure of the World Council of Churches, where Protestantism and Orthodoxy meet, as well as other inter-ecclesiastical organizations and theological dialogues. Third, attention is paid to tension and resistance to ecumenism; ecclesiological differences between Ortho-doxy and Protestantism; and the need for solid ecumenical formation. Fourth, I focus on the key role of worship reform and liturgical theology, inter alia, on the significance of Alexander Schmemann’s oeuvre. Fifth, interdenominational cross-fertilization with respect to worship songs and hymnals, as well as monasticism, are examined. It is, however, not all roses and therefore, sixth, I mention the challenge of stumbling blocks like prejudice and lack of communication skills. Nevertheless, in both Orthodoxy and Protestantism, freedom in Christ is the principle that matters.

Abstract Five hundred years ago, in troubling theological and spiritual developments of the Roman Church, Martin Luther critically approached its teaching about the soteriological value of works. The result of his inquiry was the famous sola fide doctrine. However he did not ignore the issue of works and tried repeatedly to explain their relationship with the faith. But, unfortunately, he did not consider the important contributions of the Epistle of St James and of St John’s Revelation. In the introduction to the Apocalypse he expressed the possibility that he was missing “more than one thing in this book”. His intuition was right. The book of Revelation conceals many mysteries, but first of all that of salvation. It speaks a lot about Christ and His salvific work, but also about the works of the faithful. In fact, the mystery of salvation is closely related to works. They play a crucial role in the preparation of the wedding of the Lamb with His bride. The accomplishment of God’s plan depends on them. The judgment will be done according to the works. Therefore, a lot of onceignored things stand before us. Have they the potential to bring more light on the much-disputed relationship between faith and works?

The 1688 Revolution was the culmination of an eighteen-year campaign against James and his co-religionists as idolaters of bread. The Test Acts of 1673 and 1678 required an oath against Transubstantiation for public employment, and the parliamentary debate in 1673 showed that the ground for this was idolatry. It was a strange accusation, because the age was more inclined to atheism than idolatry and because virtually all the Christian world—Catholics, Orthodox, and Lutherans—worshiped Christ as bodily present in the Sacrament. In three recent councils between 1639 and 1672, the Orthodox Churches had accepted the term transubstantiation and condemned Calvinist teaching on the Eucharist. Stranger still, the accusation of idolatry was being raised not by Puritans, but by Anglican churchmen and a Cavalier parliament. The first Test Act of 1673 (25 Charles II, c. 2) excluded Catholics from all civil and military employment under the Crown under penalty of £500 pounds and disability in law, unless they would take this oath against Transubstantiation: ‘I do believe that there is not any transubstantiation in the sacrament of the Lord's supper, or in the elements of bread and wine, at or after the consecration thereof by any person whatsoever’.

Grundtvig and the Latin Hymns - A Theological PerspectiveBy Lars ThunbergA number of scholars have devoted attention to Grundtvig’s hymns, as they are represented in his magnificent Sang-Værk. The hymns form a kind of corona of Christian poetry, intended for the congregation to use in its worship and outside the church. A number of them are congenial renderings of hymns from other traditions: the Greek, the Latin, the Anglo-Saxon, beside the Lutheran. As far as the Greek and the Latin material is concerned, Jørgen Elbek, the literary historian, has made a remarkable contribution. This article follows up Elbek’s intentions.In his Sang-Værk Grundtvig follows the principle that his collection of hymns should reflect what is given - to Christendom as a whole, and the Danish congregation specifically - through the seven historical traditions: the Hebraic, the Greek, the Latin, the English, the German, the Nordic (= Danish) and possibly a seventh, not yet fully discovered. Theoretically Grundtvig develops this idea in his late work Christenhedens Syvstieme, where an Indian congregation is indicated as the seventh one. Elbek has shown that - against this background - Grundtvig wanted to give to the Danish Church a collection of hymns, expressing the unison hymnody of the present day Danish congregation..Among the classical traditions, the Latin ‘congregation’ occupies a particular place. This particularity, however, is a problem to Grundtvig at the same time. Elbek has underlined that Grundtvig was aware of the fact that no Christian is basically able to speak on behalf of the universal Church. Thus, this is also true of Grundtvig himself in his translation/rendering of Greek or Latin hymns. His translation of them into present-day Danish involves a contextualisation, which means that they are at the same time felt to be close and familiar as well as distinct from their original setting. They become songs of praise, integrated into the Danish contemporary situation.However, it is characteristic of Grundtvig that he is very faithful to his Latin originals (which he studied in different versions and very carefully), and at the same time feels free to render them according to his own understanding of what is of importance to his own Danish Church. This combination of faithfulness and freedom is a genuine expression of Grundtvig’s unique ability as a hymn writer. He uses it to express his very personal feeling of what is - as a matter of fact - universal Christian belief.In the article these principles of Grundtvig are illustrated through a short analysis of his rendering of the following 14 Latin hymns: Conditor alme siderum, Veni redemptor gentium, Puer natus in Bethlehem, Vexilla regis prodeunt, Salve crux arbor, Stabat mater dolorosa, Salve mundi salutare, Mane prima sabbad, Mundi renovatio, Zyma vetus expurgetur, Laus tibi Christi, Beata nobis gaudia, Urbs beata Ierusalem and Pange lingua gloriosi.