Athanasius of Alexandria

Lois Farag, whose scholarship on Coptic Christianity I have previously noted on here, has turned her hand to the most prominent of the prelates ever to occupy Egypt, and one of the theological giants of that crowded and eventful fourth century: Lois Farag, Athanasius of Alexandria (Cascade, 2020), 188pp.

About this new book we are told this by the publisher:

Athanasius of Alexandria, a famous theologian and historical figure, is quoted by many but known by few. His famous dictum, "For he became human that we might be made god (theopoiēthōmen)" is explained within the context of his theology and spirituality. The Introduction familiarizes the reader with Athanasius's writings and the historical context of his theology. The reader will engage with the Athanasian language and thought that shaped the Christian understanding of the Trinity. The reader also takes a journey through Athanasius's understanding of the human person, created in the image of God and living the life of renewal. The Introduction aims to guide the reader to a Christian theologian who had the courage to oppose emperors and bishops, and to endure exiles and other threats because of his unwavering theological convictions.

The Legacy of Athanasius of Alexandria

Fortress Press sent me their latest catalogue, and in it I spy a book I overlooked when it was first published just over a year ago: Thomas Weinandy and Daniel Keating, Athanasius and His Legacy: Trinitarian-Incarnational Soteriology and Its Reception (Fortress, 2017), 144pp.

About this book the publisher tells us the following:

Athanasius was a fiery and controversial bishop from Egypt, driven from his See no less than five times. Yet, his work served as a keystone to the settlement of the central disputes of the fourth century, from the Trinitarian and christological debates at Nicaea to the formulation of the divinity of the Holy Spirit. In this volume, Thomas G. Weinandy, OFM, Cap., and Daniel A. Keating introduce readers to this key thinker and carefully illuminate Athanasius's crucial text Against the Arians, unfolding the Trinitarian and incarnational framework of Athanasius's paramount concern: soteriology. The authors provide, in the second part, a robust map of the reception and influence of Athanasius's thought-from its immediate impact on the late fourth and fifth centuries (in the Cappadocians and Cyril) to its significance for the Eastern and Western Christian traditions and its reception in contemporary thought. Herein, Athanasius is presented for today's readers as one of the chief architects of Christian doctrine and one of the most significant thinkers for the reclamation of the Trinitarian and christological theological tradition.

Donald Graham on Newman's Pneumatology

Earlier I drew attention to a new book by the Canadian scholar Donald Graham: From Eastertide to Ecclesia (Marquette Studies in Theology), a book that looks at the theology, and especially patristic (particularly Alexandrian--i.e., Athanasian) influences on the greatest English theologian of the nineteenth century, John Henry Newman. Another recent work looking at similar influences on Newman was noted here. I asked the author for an interview, and here are his thoughts:

AD: Tell us about your background

Michele and I have been married for 26 years, and we have six children between the ages of 10 and 20.  We make our home in Peterborough, ON.  In terms of my educational background, I hold undergraduate degrees in history (Trent, Peterborough ON) and education (Queen’s, Kingston ON), masters degrees in ministry and theology (MA, Steubenville, OH; MA USMC, Toronto ON; STL Toronto ON) and a PhD in Catholic Studies (Maryvale Institute and the Open University, Birmingham UK).   I have taught at the elementary, secondary and tertiary levels.  Currently, I wear several hats:  I am an adjunct professor of systematic theology at the Institute of Theology of St. Augustine’s Seminary, which is a member of the Toronto School of Theology affiliated with the University of Toronto; I am a faculty member of Sacred Heart, an emerging Catholic College in Peterborough ON; and,  I am also an academic advisor for postgraduate studies at Maryvale Institute and Liverpool-Hope University in the UK.

AD: What led you to write this book?

The short answer is that this book is a reworking of my dissertation. The longer answer is that, for years, I have been, and continue to be, fascinated by the intersection of Christology, pneumatology and ecclesiology.  Though I grew up in a solid Catholic family, and grew to love my faith under the tutelage, and through the example, of my loving Mom and Dad, my catechesis in local Catholic schools was wholly inadequate to questions which arose in my mind and heart about how Christ and the Church were properly ‘related’ and ‘distinguished’.  At some level, my young mind knew, even then, that ecclesiology sits on faulty foundations if it is not fundamentally the outgrowth of Trinitarian theology.  Also, as a young man, the person and power of the Holy Spirit came to the fore in my prayer life and, experientially, I knew the truth of the ‘two hands of the Father’ long before I became a theologian.  A 1983 encounter with  Bl. John Henry Newman during a British history course began a lifelong affair with his thought and theology, which became the place where some answers to my questions about the relationship between Church, Christology and Holy Spirit congealed.

AD: Your introduction begins by quoting Alexander Schmemann and Nikos Nissiotis at Vatican II where they told Yves Congar that any treatment of ecclesiology needed only two chapters: pneumatology, and theological anthropology. Why do you think they said that, and what do you think Newman would have said in response?

It is dangerous to speculate about why another has said something.  I am unsure if these significant Orthodox theologians literally meant ‘just two chapters’.  However, since you have asked me to speculate, I will oblige.  By this remark, I think they intended to put into relief other ecclesiological concerns being raised at the Council, like the pilgrim nature of the Church, the role of the laity, the ecclesial motherhood of the Blessed Virgin, and the meaning of the primacy of the Roman Pontiff in relation to episcopal collegiality.  Over and against such matters, I think that they wished to emphasize the fundamental, enduring, indispensable ecclesial  reality which is effected by the pentecostal dynamism of the person of the Holy Spirit who makes Christ present in his sacred body across time and space:  at once uniting, restoring and elevating men, women and children by divinizing them.  Without this penetrating sense of a pneumatic Church other aspects of ecclesiology experience limitation, distortion, misalignment and alike. This was the message I think Schmemann and Nissiotis were signaling by their remarks.

AD: In your introduction you quote the late C.S. Dessain that Newman was deeply influenced by the Greek Fathers. Tell us about that influence, and which Fathers in particular.

Newman was most influenced by St. Athanasisus and St. Cyril of the Alexandrian tradition. They especially mentored him on understanding how divinity and humanity were reconciled in the person of the eternal Word, on trinitarian personhood, on divine transcendence, divine sympathy and divine philanthropy, the value of reserve and antinomy in speaking of God, and the analogy of faith.  Additionally, and from the same tradition, Newman learned how to ponder the Pauline theme of the role of the Holy Spirit indwelling the believer.  

The title of the 1962 (two-part) article by Charles Stephen Dessain indicates the penetrating influence of these Fathers upon Newman’s thought:  “Cardinal Newman and the Doctrine of Uncreated Grace.”  In this article, and in his posthumously published Newman's Spiritual Themes, Dessain brought out in an original manner how Newman (in contradistinction to his evangelical contemporaries who overemphasized the doctrine of the atonement) understood the Holy Spirit to apply the merits of Christ’s entire life to the believer, and mystically to reiterate his sacred life in us, and to do so, not in some forensic manner, but by indwelling.  In explicating this sacred theme, Dessain drew widely upon Newman’s corpus, but favoured his Parochial and Plain Sermons and his Lectures on the Doctrine of Justification.   

AD: In your research, have you come across much evidence that Newman was also influenced by Fathers further East--i.e., the Syriac tradition?

No.  What comes to mind in this regard are Newman’s essay on “The Theology of St. Ignatius,” of Antioch in Essays Historical and Critical II, his opening consideration of “The Church of Antioch,” in  The Arians of the Fourth Century and his longish essay on “The Trials of Theodoret” in his Historical Sketches ii.  However, Newman never, to my knowledge appealed to someone like St. Eprahaem, the ‘Lyre of the Holy Spirit’, even in his most pneumatologically intense passages.  I do not think his knowledge of this strain of the patristic tradition ever rivaled his mastery, love and feel for, the Alexandrian tradition. 

AD:  Your third chapter spends some time discussing Newman's understanding of Arianism. How well has that treatment of Arius stood up, do you think, in the wake of scholarship on the Nicene period--from people like John Behr, Khaled Anatolios, and others? 
 
In response, let me re-orientate the question slightly to focus upon Khaled Anatolios and his latest work, Retrieving Nicaea: The Development and Meaning of Trinitarian Doctrine. 
The opening line of his preface states, “The composition of this book has been animated by a double conviction:  that the development of trinitarian doctrine is key to its meaning, and that the contents of this meaning constitute the entirety of Christian faith" (xv). This is a line which I believe Newman would have affirmed unhesitatingly.  More specifically, when Anatolios speaks of Athanasius:   (i) anticipating Basil’s argument in On the Holy Spirit that the baptismal formula is the primary touchstone for trinitarian reflection (132); or, (ii) noting that “the pro nobis of the Son is located in his economic self-abasement, which in turn is grounded in the philanthrōpia of the divine nature rather than in a putative secondary divinity” (121); or, (iii) asserting that the “incarnate Word is conceived as having a double relation to the Spirit; he is giver of the Spirit according to his divinity and receiver of the Spirit in his humanity.  The soteriological yield of this double transaction is that humanity becomes sanctified through its reception of the Spirit, which drives from the incarnate Word’s reception of it” (134), I leap out of my chair as if I were reading passages from Newman--albeit with the cadence and idiom proper to Anatolios.   Still there is a big difference in their approaches.  Whereas Anatolios carefully shifts the positions of what he calls Trinitiarian theologians of the will – Arius, Asterius, Eusebius of Caesarea, Eunomius of Cyzicus (41-79) – to understand their inner logic and relatedness, prior to showing their inadequacy, Newman’s tendency with Arius et al is to associate their erroneous theological positions with improperly disposed spiritual lives, and to advance his view that the Antiochene theological tradition and schools which transmitted it were somewhat predisposed to lead to error.    

To be fair to Newman, he was neither a professional theologian nor a full-time patrologist.  His work in these areas was almost always in medias res.  Arians of the Fourth Century was originally part of a prospective series on councils, starting with Nicaea; but Newman didn’t really get any further in this particular project.  His return to Athanasius, in various moments of his life, deepened his love and knowledge of this great saint.  While I would continue, almost implicitly, to trust Newman’s instinct and conclusions on dogmatic matters, I think it fair to say that on matters of in-depth historical research, there is much in this area where his findings are dated, in need of revision, or significant qualification.  What is amazing, however, is that his work has driven the work of so many others and remains to have a qualified, historical value even today.

AD: Ian Ker's foreword refers to "Newman's Athanasian Christology." What drew Newman to Athanasius in particular? 

Newman was very inspired by the indefatigable Athanasian defense of the truth that the person of the Eternal Word assumed our humanity, in a real, complete, fulsome albeit mysterious manner. Newman held this view at an historical moment when those of a rationalist bent in England and elsewhere (like the John Hick and The Metaphor of God Incarnate crowd in our own day) were denying, undermining, diluting, softening or otherwise obscuring this bedrock Christian proclamation.  He was convinced that Athanasius had made an enduring and, even, providential contribution; I think he saw St. Athanansius very much as a spiritual father, and not simply as an intellectual mentor.

AD: It has often been said that, at least in Western theology until recently, the Holy Spirit was often overlooked. And yet you often speak of Newman's "pneumatic ecclesiology" and "pneumatic Christology." Is he one of the relatively few Western figures not to overlook the Spirit?

Here, a qualified, ‘yes’.  It has become commonplace in the last 20 years to lament the paucity of proper theological consideration of the person, power and presence of the Holy Spirit among western writers and theologians.  Like most commonplaces, the lament contains more truth than one wishes.  However, one should not harden the generalization so that it becomes caricature.  A few counterweights come to mind. Johann Adam Möhler’s first work, Unity in the Church (1825) was shot through with pneumatology; the wonderful modern interpreter of Aquinas, Giles Emery, OP has, in several works, stressed the pneumatological dimension of the Angelic Doctor’s trinitarian thought.  Does he do so in a way that would satisfy an Orthodox interpreter? No.  But does the lament apply to his work? No.  

The pre-World War II work, The Mystical Body of Christ by Emilie Mersch SJ contains a marvelous section on “The Doctrine of the Mystical Body in the Greek Fathers”; Hans Urs von Balthasar’s work contains significant pneumatological swaths, e.g. Explorations in Theology: Spiritus Creator; John G. Arintero, OP has described and explained the purgative, illuminative and unitive stages of the spiritual life very much within the context of deification in his 2 vols., Mystical Evolution in the Development and Vitality of the Church. And, of course, there is Yves Congar’s monumental three vols., I Believe in the Holy Spirit. While these authors are hardly exhaustive or even characteristic, they are not part of a school; their works appear in different decades and the areas of thought cover history, dogma and spiritual theology proper.  In sum, they are suggestive of a western appreciation of pneumatology, pneumatological ecclesiology and the work of the Spirit in the life of Christians.

This having been said, I make a sustained argument in my book that Newman is peculiarly prescient and thoughtful amongst those in the west who do justice to the pneumatological dimension of ecclesia, especially wtih his integration of Greek patristic thought on the birth of the Church in and through the paschal mysteries of passion, death, resurrection, ascension and sending of the Spirit.  

AD: How do you think Newman's ecclesiology can assist in the recovery of Christian unity today, especially Orthodox-Catholic unity? 

Newman’s ecclesiology can make a contribution:

         1. At times, his theology is doxological; it emerges from a life where there is no artificial divide between one’s life as a theologian involved in a disciplined reflection upon revelation and a liturgical life immersed in the sacred mysteries of Christ; this forceful unity is magnetic and an authentic hallmark of one who thinks with the mind of the Church; it is also a quality which I think many Orthodox look for in a trustworthy guide.

2.   Unity between the Orthodox and Catholics will require an acceptance of some truths which are clearly part of the Great Tradition but which need creative reframing without gutting;  and, which require creative application without skirting. Because Newman’s theology is both patristic and personalist, Catholic but not neo-scholastic; dogmatic and spiritual, I think he can be helpful in providing resources for this recovery.

3.   Newman’s vision of the pneumatic Church, his embrace of divinization, and his drawing upon the Greek Fathers probably make him amenable as a dialogue partner for many Orthodox; as well, he suffered at the hands of Roman superiors but this did not lessen his love of the Church which transcended personal hurts.  Hence theologically and personally, he has something to offer.

AD: Sum up for us what you hoped to accomplish with this book


In a modest way, I wanted others to realize that Newman possesses a fundamental pneumatic ecclesiology upon which rests the rest of his thinking about the Church.  I also wanted others to think about the very nature of the Church afresh in terms of its marvelous sacramental, mystical dimension.

Eastertide to Ecclesia

As I noted before, the greatest man of 19th-century Christian letters (at least in the anglophone world), John Henry Newman, remains singular for many reasons, not least that he was the only Western theologian of his time translated into modern Greek. His influence by and on the Greek Fathers is increasingly well documented, including in Benjamin King's recent book, Newman and the Alexandrian Fathers: Shaping Doctrine in Nineteenth-Century England. 

Another book has recently been drawn to my attention: Donald Graham, From Eastertide to Ecclesia (Marquette UP, 2011, 231pp.).

About this book we are told:

Donald Graham substantiates the claim made by many, but rarely demonstrated, that Newman anticipated concerns that preoccupy the Church today and supplied theological resources that allow us to address them in a fresh and intelligent manner. In this book Graham establishes that Newman was a pioneering thinker who must be exempted from the charge that nearly all modern theology is characterized by neglect or forgetfuless of the Holy Spirit. Grahams thoroughgoing and comprehensive exploration of Newmans ecclesial pneumatology is much more than an account of Newman's thought. It is an invitation to rethink, with Newman, the nature and mission of the sacramental community of the Church. 

In communication with the author, I am further told that he draws extensively on one of the most important of the Nicene Fathers, viz., the great Athanasius of Alexandria.  

An Intellectual History of Iconoclasm (I)

On the plane to Los Angeles last week and the fantastic Huffington Institute's 2012 symposium on Pan-Orthodoxy in North America, organized by the liturgical theologian and OCA deacon Nicholas Denysenko, I finally had a chance to dive into a book I've wanted to read for some time: Alain Besançon, The Forbidden Image: An Intellectual History of Iconoclasm, trans. J.M. Todd (University of Chicago Press, 2000 [2009]). 

The French original, published in 1994 as L'Image interdite: une histoire intellectuelle de l'iconoclasme, received wide acclaim, and justly so. This book is a magnificent survey of iconoclasm and iconodulia, starting with the philosophers Cicero, Aristotle, Plotinus, and especially Plato in the antique period; and, in the modern period, Hegel looms large. In his first chapter, on the philosophical history of images, the author notes that Plato is both "the father of iconoclasm" and also "the father of iconophilia." 

Along the way, Besançon examines the theological arguments for and against the use of images in Christianity, with a comparative glance at Judaism and Islam. Of these latter two he says, interestingly, that Judaism has to forbid images (the Greek eidolon for "idol" in the LXX apparently translates 30 different Hebrew terms) because God is so close to His people in the covenant that iconoclasm was almost a relief valve, a way of escaping from Him who is "everywhere present and filling all things" (as Byzantine Christians say of the Holy Spirit on Pentecost Monday):  At the root of "iconoclasm, whether Christian or Jewish, is the overwhelming feeling of divine transcendence" (131). 

Of Islam he says there is no such problem: the God of the Quran is so far distant, so aloof, so transcendentally uninterested in being part of the world that the Quran does not even think to say anything about images. Islamic iconoclasm, then, must look to other sources for arguments and justification, chiefly the hadiths of the post-Mohammad period. 

The author examines four Fathers of the Church for their theology of images: Irenaeus, Origen (about whom, agreeing with Henri Crouzel's judgment, he says that the condemnations are virtually worthless), Gregory of Nyssa, and Augustine. He never really explains why he focuses on these four other than saying apologetically he could not entertain all the patristic literature because it is so immense nobody can account for it. But it is more than passing curious why his list does not include such paramount figures as John of Damascus and Theodore of Studion, though these two will be briefly mentioned passim. 

Besançon notes that the usual argument put forward by Orthodox Christians justifying icons in terms of the Incarnation does little to solve the problem of iconoclasm: "the theological resolution of the problem, which entails a reaffirmation of the Incarnation, does not of itself guarantee that the image expresses and realizes the goal of the incarnation" (3). He also notes that the East and West will handle these problems by generating a different theology: "the Roman Church refused to view the image from the same metaphysical perspective as did the Greek Church" (4). 

When he gets to his third chapter on Christian arguments about images, Besançon begins by noting that the causes of iconoclasm "were so complex that they can dishearten the sage historian." He lists at least six: 

• imperial agrarian policy attacking monasteries (because they were large, wealthy, and major centres of production of icons)
• imperial centralizing policy
• imperial religious policy on the Church-state divide, and the Rome-Constantinople divide
• imperial foreign policy
• Islam
• and of course dogmatic arguments.

Besançon's treatment of the theological or dogmatic arguments draws heavily on Christoph von Schönborn, L’Icône du Christ : Fondements théologiques (Éditions Universitaires, Fribourg, 1976), published in English in 1994 by Ignatius Press as God's Human Face: The Christ-Icon.

In reviewing the arguments over the Incarnation, Cyril of Alexandria looms large here even if, in the author's words, "he was a dreadful person" (119)--or, as the great historian Robert Taft, not discussed here, has put it, Cyril was undeniably a thug. (Newman put it more delicately in noting that Cyril's sanctity could not be deduced from his actions!) Others of importance who are briefly reviewed include of course the great Athanasius as well as Maximus the Confessor. 


When he comes to the arguments of the early Byzantine iconoclasts, he notes that they did not forbid all art, but only certain types. The more iconoclasm succeeds in destroying Christian imagery, the more it also succeeds in reestablishing "pagan" art across the empire. 

In response to iconoclasm, the decrees of Nicaea II in 787 are "minimalist" and leave many questions unanswered. Nicaea II posits a balance that will forever elude most Christians: that between "the twin errors of iconolatry and iconoclasm. But it takes a considerable effort to remain upright on the precarious summit between them and not to slip down either of the opposing slopes....Simply put, in the place of iconophiliac equilibrium, one finds a mixture or unstable juxtaposition of iconolatry and iconoclasty" (142). 

Nicaea II's arguments will also have unintended consequences in different parts of the Church. In the West, he argues that "the poor reception of the Council of Nicaea II 'poisoned Western art at the source'," an argument also mentioned, but not developed, in Joseph Ratzinger's The Spirit of the Liturgy.

In his fourth chapter, on Western treatments of images in the Middle Ages, he notes that the West has been--not surprisingly--much more pragmatic and propadeutic in its assessment and use of images. The key text here, Besançon says, is a letter from Pope Gregory I to Serenus around the year 600 in which the pope makes the argument that icons are tools to instruct the illiterate and those too poor to afford books to read, prompting them to devotion: ex visione rei gestae ardorem componctionis percipiant. In time, this pragmatism will give rise to a greater freedom in the West, which insists far less on the holiness of the iconographer than the East does. Indeed, by the time the West reaches the Renaissance and Baroque periods, it will be accepted by many that beautiful and truthful art may be produced by those who are neither--personal morality, much less sanctity, is scarcely considered. Besançon notes the gains this freedom makes possible, but does not ask the question: what is lost with this approach?

The third part of this book focuses on modern iconoclasm, and here Besançon examines three pivotal figures: Calvin (who seems to substitute snobbery and sneering for serious arguments about images), Pascal, and Kant. Against these three, he will array the different arguments of Hegel, which we will review in due course. 

To be continued. 

Sarapion of Thmuis

Australia's Centre for Early Christian Studies has just published a new monograph by the American Orthodox priest and historian Oliver Herbel, Sarapion of Thmuis: Against the Manicheans and Pastoral Letters (Early Christian Studies 14 [Sydney: St. Paul’s Publications, 2011], 144 pp.). About this publication the publisher tells us:

Although St. Anthony the Great, St. Athanasius of Alexandria, and the Desert Fathers have received considerable attention in early Christian studies, St. Sarapion of Thmuis has remained in relative obscurity. This book introduces the thought of this early Egyptian monastic bishop, highlighting the importance of both Sarapion’s biblical hermeneutics and his utilization of Stoic philosophy. It includes an argument for Sarapion’s authorship of the Letter to the Monks as well as translations of Sarapion’s three extant writings: Letter to Bishop Eudoxios, Letter to the Monks, and Against the Manichaeans.

Author Interview: Khaled Anatolios

I noted earlier the advent of Khaled Anatolios's new book, Retrieving Nicaea (Baker Academic, 2011, 322pp.), which I have now most happily adopted for a course I am teaching next year on Trinitarian theology. The book is a splendid balance of history and theology in a most felicitous combination, the former illuminating the development of the latter in a way that makes both accessible to students.

I asked the author for an interview to discuss his work, and he are his thoughts:

Please tell us about your background:

I was born in India, of Egyptian parents and then shuttled back and forth between Egypt and Canada as I was growing up. I started out studying creative writing in college (I wanted to be a fiction writer), then English literature, and finally landed in theology. I completed my doctorate in systematic theology at Boston College, where I did a dissertation directed by Fr. Brian Daley (now at Notre Dame) which became my first book, Athanasius. The Coherence of his Thought. I am a member of the Melkite Greek Catholic Church.

Tell us why you wrote this book:

Throughout my adult life as a Christian, I have been gripped by the mystery of the Trinity and profoundly impressed and moved by the way that this mystery was contemplated (and vigorously debated) in the early Church. In teaching a course on “The Development of Trinitarian Doctrine,” I have found that students go through a real conversion in engaging the early debates and reflections on this mystery, from thinking that it involves some forbidding theological math to seeing it as concretely embedded in the entirety of Christian faith and experience such that the whole of Christian life becomes Trinitarian doxology. I wrote this book primarily to share this experience.

For whom was the book written—did you have a particular audience in mind?

It is written primarily for scholars, both in the areas of systematic theology and early Christian studies. But it also aims to be accessible to any fairly educated Christian who wishes to have a more lively awareness of the central mysteries of Christian faith--the most central of all being the distinctly Christian identification of God as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

What about your own background led you to the writing of this book? 

This book is informed by my training in both systematic theology and patristics and tries to emphasize the continuing relevance of patristic theology for contemporary systematic discussions. It is also informed by my experience of talking to ordinary Christians in a parish setting and trying to share how Trinitarian doctrine is central to Christian life. 

Were there any surprises you discovered in your writing?

Perhaps one surprise was the affection I developed for Gregory of Nyssa--the beauty of his theological vision but also the warmness of his humanity that comes through in his writing in various ways, such as his adulation of his brother Basil and his sister, Marcrina.

Are there similar books out there, and if so, how is yours different? 

I am sure that this book will be immediately associated with John Behr’s The Nicene Faith: Formation Of Christian Theology (2 Volume Set) and The Way to Nicaea (The Formation of Christian Theology, V. 1) as well as Lewis Ayre’s Nicaea and Its Legacy: An Approach to Fourth-Century Trinitarian Theology, both of which I greatly admire. I think its distinction lies in its more systematic trust, its effort to show that the very development of Trinitarian doctrine involves an interpretation of the entirety of Christian faith.

Sum up briefly the main themes/ideas/insights of Retrieving Nicaea: The Development and Meaning of Trinitarian Doctrine

• That the development of Trinitarian doctrine involved an interpretation of the entirety of Christian faith and thus grasping the meaning of Trinitarian doctrine necessitates re-living the process of its development and learning how all of Christian faith and life is “Trinitarian.”

• That the development of orthodox Trinitarian doctrine was enabled especially by a Christological re-interpretation of God and divine transcendence, whereby the greatness of God was defined less by oneness or distance from the world but rather by compassionate love.

• That the meaning of Trinitarian doctrine does not lie in figuring out how “three are one and one is three” but in understanding how every aspect of Christian life relates us to Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

Athanasius the Great

The great St. Athanasius of Alexandria, hero of the first ecumenical Council of Nicaea and arch-enemy of Arianism, has been the object of renewed scholarly attention in the last several years, led by the works of Khaled Anatolios. Thomas Weinandy has also contributed to this scholarly renaissance.

Now we have a new work to be published later this year by Baker Academic:

Peter J. Leithart, Athanasius (Foundations of Theological Exegesis and Christian Spirituality) (Baker Academic, July 2011), 224pp.

The publisher provides us the following blurb:

This erudite volume offers fresh consideration of the work of famous fourth-century church father Athanasius, giving specific attention to his use of Scripture, his deployment of metaphysical categories, and the intersection between the two. Peter Leithart not only introduces Athanasius and his biblical theology but also puts Athanasius into dialogue with contemporary theologians. The book draws on Athanasius's theology to shed light on contemporary theological debates and defends him against contemporary criticisms of "classical theism."

Athanasius launches the Foundations of Theological Exegesis and Christian Spirituality series. This series is based on the conviction that retrieval of the church fathers is essential to contemporary flourishing and further development in Christian theology; that patristic spiritual interpretation continues to hold out prospects for theology; and that participation in the divine was an important underlying conviction for Nicene Christianity on which we should continue to build today. The series contributes to the growing area of theological interpretation and will appeal to both Protestant and Catholic readers.

I look forward to seeing this reviewed in Logos: A Journal of Eastern Christian Studies.