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This book explores the life of Ambrose Jessup Tomlinson, chronicling his childhood and family life, spiritual journey, missionary work, and his role in establishing the Church of God. Its main objective is to reconcile the holiness-pentecostal tradition to its origins, and the trajectory of its subsequent history. The term “plainfolk modernist” is coined, to suggest that both Tomlinson and the world he inhabited expressed a vibrant strain of modernism, though voiced in the idioms of American plainfolk culture.

In Abelard and Heloise, a dual intellectual biography of Peter Abelard (1079–1142) and Heloise (d. 1164), I argue that there is a fundamental continuity to the evolution of Abelard’s thought from his early concern with dialectic, to his growing interest in theology in the 1120s and in ethical questions in the 1130s. Heloise was much more than the disciple and lover of Abelard. She emerges as a distinct thinker in her own right, deeply versed in classical ideals of friendship and ethics, which she wished to apply to her relationship to Abelard. While they have both functioned as mythic figures in the western imagination, I argue that both participated in a broader 12th-century renewal of interest in both classical literature and in religious reform. I examine Abelard’s dialectic as a theory not just about universals, but about language as a whole. Tracing the maturing of his dialectic from his earliest glosses to the Logica ‘Ingredientibus’, written after his early affair with Heloise (1115–17), I argue that Abelard was initially unable to come to terms with the ethical questions presented by Heloise in her side of messages (Epistolae duorum amantium) they exchanged during those years. After Abelard became a monk at St Denis, he started to write about theology. I trace the evolution of his theological interests, from his early concern with linguistic concerns to increasing preoccupation with the Holy Spirit and divine goodness, as manifest in Jesus. After Heloise, abbess of the Paraclete from 1129, responded to his Historia calamitatum and demanded he pay greater attention to the community he had founded, Abelard started to devote much more attention to commenting on Scripture and to reflecting on the ethical questions with which she had always been concerned. Accusations spread by St Bernard that Abelard promoted heresy distort the true character of his contribution to theology, on which Heloise exercised a profound influence.

In his final accomplishment of a distinguished career, the author considers the musical practices of the early Church in this examination of the history of Christian chant from the years ad 200 to 800. The result is a book that is certain to have an impact on musicology, religious studies, and history.

Recent America was awash in a sea of evangelical talk. From the Jesus chic of the Seventies to the satanism scare of the Eighties, the culture wars of the Nineties, and the faith-based vogue of the early 2000s, born-again Christianity was seen and heard on many levels. This was a time of evangelical scares, born-again spectacles, and reconsiderations of the status of faith in politics and culture. The Age of Evangelicalism chronicles the place and meaning of born-again Christianity in the United States from the 1970s through the early twenty-first century. It pays special attention to the uses that a diverse array of Americans found for born-again faith—self-proclaimed evangelicals, to be sure, but also secular activists, scholars, journalists, artists, and politicians. The story features familiar actors, along with others not always associated with evangelical faith—Barack Obama, as well as Jimmy Carter; People for the American Way, as well as Moral Majority; and Bob Dylan, as well as Rick Warren. The history of recent evangelicalism is about more than evangelicals themselves. Born-again Christianity provided alternately a language, a medium, and a foil by which Americans came to terms with their times.

This book began its journey with two texts and two conjectures. The texts were chosen to represent two alternative models for listing the names of God: an open-ended list and a closed series of seventy-two names. Both lists presume to be exhaustive. Their respective understandings of “all,” however, are not identical. If they both comply with the axiom of monotheist onomatology that the single divinity has many names, each reflects a different position as to exactly how many they are. Theology vouches for an infinite number. Magic counters with seventy-two, the numerical equivalent of finitude. The central pronouncement of Christian theology on the naming of God—attributed to the authority of St. Dionysius the Areopagite—endorses the infinite list of names as the most adequate “name” for the unnamable divinity. It may be concluded that the theological vision emerging from the text of Dionysius presents an asymmetrical system of order that posits its “beyond” as its condition of possibility—a transcendent divinity exempt from the order it generates. The idea of order presented by the amulet The 72 Names of the Lord is based on an entirely different principle.

Examines the emergence – and then the broad effects – of a singularly American synthesis of convictions. That synthesis of evangelical Protestant religion, republican political ideology, and commonsense moral reasoning came into existence during the second half of the eighteenth century and then exerted a telling influence on American life through the time of the Civil War. Elsewhere in the North Atlantic world, the main Christian traditions opposed both “Real Whig” republicanism and the “commonsense” principles of the era's new moral philosophy. Not so in America. Through a series of contingent circumstances – revival in the 1740s, colonial warfare with France, the struggle for independence, a great surge of evangelical denominations in the new republic, and the leadership of Protestant thought and agencies in creating a national culture – distinctly American forms of Christian republicanism and theistic common sense became the common intellectual coinage of the new United States. In turn, these patterns of thought pushed theology, for both educated elites and sectarian populists, toward greater stress on the individual, on free will, and on personal appropriation of the Bible. The very centrality of commonsense Christian republicanism also, however, set the stage for the intellectual tragedy of the Civil War – when dedicated Christians, both North and South, were convinced that the Bible supported only their own side. The story is at once a great triumph of creative theological energy and a significant tragedy of theology captured by culture.

This book offers a comprehensive examination and analysis of American Methodist worship, tracing its evolution from John Wesley to the end of the twentieth century. Attention is paid to the officially approved liturgical texts of ten American Methodist denominations. Yet, these texts do not reveal the full complexity of Methodist worship – leaders of worship have always had the freedom to depart from the established forms, and some characteristically Methodist worship services were organized without official texts. Therefore, other sources are scrutinized to provide a broader assessment. This book draws upon personal diaries and journals, church and secular newspapers, and materials from local church archives, thus exposing the processes and influences – ecclesiastical, social, and cultural – that motivated Methodists to rethink their theology of worship and to reorganize their worship praxis. Such an approach permits consideration of the nontextual matters of liturgical space, choreography, and ritual performance. Methodist worship's interactions with the wider society and cultures are addressed, and an evaluation is made of how particular factors and developments evident in national life affected liturgy and the performance of worship in what may be identified as the “Americanization” of Methodist worship.

Francis Asbury (1745–1816) is one of the most important religious leaders in American history. He guided the creation of the American Methodist church, the largest church in nineteenth-century America and the foundation of much of the Holiness and Pentecostal movements. The United States remains a deeply religious nation and Asbury is an important reason why. Yet Asbury did not lead in ways that we expect. He did not look like the ministers of colonial America, nor does he look like many high profile religious leaders today. The son of an English gardener, he had only a few years of formal education before being apprenticed to a metalworker at age fourteen. He never wrote a book and was often a disappointing preacher. He never married or owned a home, rarely spoke at church conferences, and often felt insecure in public. Yet in this definitive biography Asbury emerges as an effective and influential leader. His life of prayer and voluntary poverty were legendary, as was his generosity to the poor. Offsetting his poor public speaking was his remarkable ability to connect with people one-on-one or in small groups as he crisscrossed the nation. Asbury rode more than 130,000 miles from 1771 to 1816, tirelessly organizing the church’s expansion into every state and territory. He traveled more extensively across the American landscape than anyone of his generation. Drawing on a wide variety of sources, John Wigger reveals how Asbury shaped Methodism to engage ordinary Americans, establishing patterns that are still evident today.

This study examines, within a chronological framework, the major themes and personalities that influenced the outbreak of a number of Evangelical clerical and lay secessions from the Church of England and Ireland during the first half of the nineteenth century. Though the number of secessions was relatively small, between a hundred and two hundred of the ‘Gospel clergy’ abandoned the Church during this period, their influence was considerable, especially in highlighting in embarrassing fashion the tensions between the evangelical conversionist imperative and the principles of a national religious establishment. Moreover, through much of this period there remained, just beneath the surface, the potential threat of a large Evangelical disruption similar to that which occurred in Scotland in 1843. Consequently, these secessions provoked great consternation within the Church and within Evangelicalism itself, contributed to the outbreak of millennial speculation following the ‘constitutional revolution’ of 1828–32, led to the formation of several new denominations, and sparked off a major Church–State crisis over the legal right of a clergyman to secede and begin a new ministry within Protestant Dissent.

This study investigates the relationship between Augustine’s trinitarian theology and his anti-Donatist ecclesiology in a series of forty-one sermons that he preached between December 406 and mid-summer 407, including the enarrationes on the Psalms of Ascent (119–133), the first sixteen tractates on the Gospel of John, and the ten tractates on the First Epistle of John. Augustine uses pro-Nicene principles and exegesis to construct his understanding of the church against the Donatists. In doing so, he depicts a church whose identity and integrity are grounded in the life and work of the triune God, rather than in the relative moral purity of human bishops and the closely guarded boundaries of the visible communion. This reading locates Augustine’s exegesis in the context of his Latin pro-Nicene predecessors, especially Hilary of Poitiers and Ambrose of Milan. From this tradition Augustine adapts scriptural readings that shape his understanding of the church as the body of Christ united by the love of the Holy Spirit who is given in baptism. Augustine thus constructs an image of the church as united through the work of the Trinity in such a way that the life of the church shares in the life of the Trinity.

This book examines Augustine’s early theology of the imago dei, prior to his ordination (386–391). The book makes the case that Augustine’s early thought is a significant departure from Latin pro-Nicene theologies of image only a generation earlier. The book argues that although Augustine’s early theology of image builds on that of Hilary of Poitiers, Marius Victorinus, and Ambrose of Milan, Augustine was able to affirm, in ways that his predecessors were not, that both Christ and the human person are the image of God. Augustine’s Latin pro-Nicene predecessors understood the imago dei principally as a Christological term designating a unity of divine substance. According to the book, Augustine’s early theology of image has its initial departure not in the controversy of Nicaea but, rather, in the philosophical engagement of Plotinian metaphysics, in which all finite reality is an image of ultimate reality. For this tradition, an image need not imply equality; an image can be more or less like its source. The book maintains that Augustine’s early writings describe Christ as an image of equal likeness while the human person is an image of unequal likeness. A Platonic and participatory evaluation of the nature of “image” enables Augustine’s early theology of the image of God to move beyond that of his Latin predecessors and affirm the imago dei both of Christ and of the human person.

Ana de San Bartolomé (1549–1626), a contemporary and close associate of St. Teresa of Àvila, typifies the curious blend of religious activism and spiritual forcefulness that characterized the first generation of Discalced, or reformed Carmelites. Known for their austerity and ethics, their convents quickly spread throughout Spain and, under Ana's guidance, also to France and the Low Countries. Constantly embroiled in disputes with her male superiors, Ana quickly became the most vocal and visible of these mystical women and the most fearless of the guardians of the Carmelite Constitution, especially after Teresa's death. Her autobiography, clearly inseparable from her religious vocation, expresses the tensions and conflicts that often accompanied the lives of women whose relationship to the divine endowed them with an authority at odds with the temporary powers of church and state. Last translated into English in 1916, Ana's writings give modern readers insights into the nature of monastic life during the highly charged religious and political climate of late-sixteenth- and early-seventeenth-century Spain.

This book explores the dynamics of the Spirit and Son in the economy of salvation. It offers an interpretation of Barth and Origen around this theme, bringing them into a formative dialogue for a constructive theology of universal salvation. Examining Barth's doctrine of election and Origen's understanding of apokatastasis, the book proposes that a proper understanding of the eternal salvific plan of God in the person of Jesus Christ points towards universal salvation. However, salvation is not achieved through a general principle or rule; it is achieved through the very particularity of the Son in whom all humanity is saved. Further place for human particularity is established through the economy of the Spirit. Origen and Barth's economic pneumatologies indicate the reverse dynamic to that of their interpretation of the Son's economy: while the particularity of the Son has universal effects for all particulars, the universality of the Spirit particularizes that universal in individuals and communities in the present. However, this is in a manner which avoids a binary separation of Christians (as the saved) from all other humans (as the damned); instead, Christians are led into the ever greater depths of God, in a manner which allows God's Spirit to be present in diverse ways with humans and human communities in their temporal particularities. This dynamic of Spirit and Son in salvation allows for the place of faith, ongoing history, and community within a soteriological schema which offers a universal hope of salvation in Christ.

This volume represents the first part of a study of the concept and the symbol of the cross in Christian theology and imagination. It examines the theology of the cross in both its conceptual and aesthetic mediations within specific historical contexts, from the early church to the eve of the renaissance. Each chapter is introduced by a discussion of an artwork — a representation of Christ’s crucifixion — that exemplifies the focus of the chapter. There follows an exposition of a theological paradigm for the interpretation of the Christ’s passion as a salvific event, i.e., a particular Christian soteriology, as seen in the works of classic theologians. These theological ideas are compared and contrasted with aesthetic works that were contemporaneous with the theological classics or that illustrate a parallel theological attitude. The general method is one of correlation between two kinds of interpretation of the Christian tradition and of human experience: between theology as explicit systematic thought and as affective and communicative images. Within the aesthetic realm, this volume emphasizes visual art (various styles of cross and crucifix) and Christian poetry, both liturgical and non-liturgical.

Early Christian monastic spiritual practices of self-formation became increasingly popular in late medieval and early modern Catholicism. Now, for the first time in the history of Christian spirituality, religious orders, first and foremost among them Franciscans and Jesuits, trained devout people, men and women, lay and religious, in practices of meditation, introspection, and subjectivization. Thousands, if not ten of thousands of lay people now acquired techniques of self examination that enabled them to pursue life goals and transform themselves. The book examines four of the major spiritual practices of the period, traces their history, diffusion, and the challenges they presented to clerical authority. Spiritual direction and general confession, two of the practices of self-formation discussed in the book, served as safety belts to guarantee that practitioners remained subjected to the teachings of the church. But spiritual exercises, general examination of conscience, and general confession supplied practitioners with techniques of self-construction and self -affirmation. Using insights from Michel Foucault's later work on practices of truth-telling and subjectivization, the book proposes the first systematic investigation of the complexity of subjectivization in early modern Catholicism as both a mechanism of self-formation and of subjugation

Recent work on the notoriously passionate Christian conflicts of the later Roman Empire has elucidated their wide-ranging political and social implications. However, the fifth-century conquest of the Roman West by “barbarian” rulers brings this train of inquiry to a juddering halt, as scholars of early Christianity turn eastward for new doctrinal developments, and early medieval historians focus on political continuity and ethnic identity in the new kingdoms. This book argues that Christian controversy retained its sophistication and its sociopolitical consequences in the post-imperial West. It examines church conflict under the Vandals, who ruled the former Roman province of Africa (the modern-day Maghreb) from 439 to 533 CE. Exploiting neglected Christian texts, this book exposes a sophisticated culture of disputation between Nicene (“Catholic”) and Homoian (“Arian”) Christians, and it explores their rival claims to represent the true church, which consciously evoked earlier ecclesiastical controversies. It argues that this Christian conflict cannot be firewalled from other developments in post-imperial Africa, revealing its implications for issues of social identity and political formation. Through careful comparison with the evidence for Homoian Christianity in the other barbarian successor kingdoms, it seeks to set out a new framework for understanding Christian identity across the post-imperial West.

Within a culture of male domination, women in the period of the Counter‐Reformation achieved recognition and status as mystics, and their influence extended to all realms of society, including the aristocracy. A mystic's acceptance, however, was predicated upon her strict adherence to ecclesiastical orthodoxy and hierarchy. Further, her childhood and adult convent life were marked by excessive austerity and, in many instances, abuse. If the mystic had a proper pedigree, succeeded in building a support system of male authorities, and could demonstrate her divine favor through visions and miracles, then she had the potential to become canonized. While women mystics did not challenge male authority within the church and indeed often were willing supporters of it, they did serve as inspiration to their male contemporaries and to generations of women who followed.

This study seeks to develop a new context for reading later Victorian fiction, specifically the work of George Eliot, Thomas Hardy, Mary Ward and Rider Haggard. With Eliot and her successors the Victorian novel acquired greater cultural centrality, just as the authority of the scriptures and of traditional religious teaching seemed to be declining. The book considers whether serious, allegedly secular novelists supplanted the Bible or whether they anticipated some of the insights of contemporary theologians and writers of fiction by reimagining and reformulating rather than abandoning essentially religious themes and insights. The history of Bible reading is reviewed to stress the relatively late insistence on biblical literalism which eventually precipitated loss of confidence in the Bible in the light of modern knowledge. The novelists discussed, all of Anglican nurture though unconventional in different ways, are shown to have continued older traditions of reading the Bible for underlying moral and religious significance rather than just the literal meaning. The novels considered demonstrate new ways of imagining biblical concerns such as the sublime, the messianic and pilgrimage. The conclusion suggests the novelists discussed as pioneers of the pot-secular and proposes connections between their work and the subsequent emphasis on religious experience rather than religious dogma.