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The Vilna Ga’on, an extraordinary Talmudic scholar, inspired in his disciples a sense that he was a supernatural phenomenon, with a messianic mission to redeem the Jewish nation by disseminating the true knowledge of Torah and by settling the Land of Israel. Although he himself never succeeded in immigrating to the Land, many of his disciples did so. They had a profound sense that the End of Days was approaching, and they developed the doctrine that redemption was not contingent on repentance but would come at its appointed time no matter what; repentance bore only on how it was to come about and on whether it might be accelerated. They likewise regarded as no longer applicable the prohibition in the “Three Oaths” against efforts on Israel’s part to hasten the End (“ascending the wall”). Rejecting the traditional emphasis on passivity, they held that the awakening above (i.e., God’s redemptive actions) could be triggered by the awakening from below (human actions directed toward hastening redemption), such as settling the Land of Israel and rebuilding it in order to “raise the Shekhinah from its ashes”.

A variety of practical obstacles prevented the Vilna Ga’on’s disciples from settling in Jerusalem as soon as they arrived in the Land of Israel in 1808-1812. Instead, they settled in the Galilean city of Safed, where they sought to hasten the redemption through mystical and spiritual practices, and through the purchase of land to be able to fulfill the commandments contingent on the Land of Israel. In 1813, the community was decimated by an epidemic, which some of the survivors, led by Rabbi Menahem Mendel of Shklov, interpreted as punishment for not having immediately endured the rigors of settling in Jerusalem; they accordingly established a colony there. That step was opposed by another group of survivors, led by Rabbi Israel of Shklov. He regarded settlement of Jerusalem as premature, adhering to a doctrine that the redemption would begin with the Sanhedrin’s restoration in the Galilee, where it had last functioned before being disbanded. Restoration of the Sanhedrin required the renewal of classical ordination, which had lapsed in late antiquity or early medieval times and could be renewed only by an ordained sage. To that end, intensive efforts were launched to locate the lost Ten Tribes of Israel, among whom ordination had presumably not lapsed. Among those efforts was the ultimately ill-fated venture of Barukh ben Samuel of Pinsk, dispatched by Israel of Shklov in 1830.

To deal with the post-1840 crisis of belief, Jewish leaders sought to limit the at-risk masses’ contacts with the Christian missionaries and to bolster and renew their faith in Judaism. They also tried, by various arguments, to defer the expected appearance to 5606 (1846) or some later date. There ensued a retreat from the Perushim’s messianic activism, and some argued that the Messiah’s failure to appear was punishment for that activism. Aviezer of Ticktin and Zevi Hirsch Lehren forcefully advocated that position, and Lehren saw the Damascus blood libel in that light as well. The leadership of the Perushim, however, took the view that 5600 heralded the beginning of the messianic era, which would unfold gradually, and they continued their efforts despite the new difficulties. By 1846, more Perushim changed their views, and some of the new leaders retreated from the activist stance and reverted to the traditional view that repentance, study, and spiritual activity were the mechanisms through which the Messiah might be brought. Concern for the future of the Jewish community in the Land of Israel and its economic infrastructure and productivity gave way to concern for survival in the present through fundraising among Jews in Europe; fundraising organizations proliferated. The new byword of the Perushim’s leadership became “Unless God builds the house, its builders labor on it in vain”, and reverted to the view that the only legitimate position within traditional Judaism was the belief in miraculous redemption. Some grandchildren of the earlier leaders of the Perushim (Joseph Rivlin and Joel Moses Solomon) were among the initiators of the construction of Jewish neighborhoods outside the walls of the Old City of Jerusalem. The new leaders of the Perushim did not support their efforts and sought to suppress the history of their predecessors’ messianic activism.

This chapter attends to Rosenzweig's attempt to reestablish the relationship God–word–world, which was shattered in modernity. This provides the basis to rehabilitate a notion of miracle and the signs of liturgy for contemporary Jews. For Rosenzweig, liturgy is a form of reasoning about time that provides answers to the age‐old aporias that Augustine exposed in his Confessions. The first part of the chapter ends with an analysis of the psalms that are chanted in the Hallel service as keys to the liturgical relation to eternity. The second part of this chapter focuses on Rosenzweig's liturgical reasoning with each of the central festivals of the yearly Jewish calendar. These festivals are presented as expressions of three theological terms (creation, revelation, redemption) and the temporal tenses (past, present, future). The chapter concludes with an attempt to revise Rosenzweig's theology of Christianity through the Jewish‐Christian‐Islamic movement of “Scriptural Reasoning.”

Bonaventure holds that God does all things with power, wisdom, and goodness; such as in the case of the restoration. If Incarnation is examined as a work of God in the light of power, wisdom, and goodness, we can see why it is the most perfect of all God's works, for there cannot be any greater act of power than to combine within a single person two natures: the human and divine. While Bonaventure stresses the gratuity of the redemption — that is, God was in no way obliged to save us — he is very clear that man could not have been saved by any healer other than God.

This chapter takes up three questions: What did the New Testament authors hold about the universal impact of Christ as Redeemer? Why did they hold what they did about Christ as universal mediator of salvation? What should be said now about the salvation of those who have not accepted or even heard the message of salvation through Christ?

The scriptures and the texts used for the public worship of Christians teem with salvific and redemptive terms and images. This chapter aims to clarify in a preliminary way some of the language used for redemption—both as regards the process of being redeemed and the end‐result or state of being redeemed.

Human beings face two great problems: guilt and death. Although disembodied existence is in some sense possible, it would be an attenuated existence since we are normally embodied beings, and complete and ideal existence for us is embodied. Matter is not evil because it was created by God, who is all-powerful, all-knowing, and perfectly good. We are redeemed from guilt and death by the life, death, and resurrection of Christ. Despite Catholic and Protestant differences at this point, Christians largely agree that we are justified by faith in Christ. Two different scenarios for the general resurrection are discussed, as well as the beatific vision.

The chapter discusses the doctrine of election in the context of the Glaubenslehre. The concept of a single divine decree structures the argument throughout the book, and the content of the decree is a universal predestination to salvation in Christ. Christ's redemptive work is realized gradually and without miraculous leaps. The historical existence of believers and unbelievers does not result from a foreordained division of human beings. Divine mercy and righteousness pertain to every person; the idea of double predestination is rejected. Since the Christian church is the complete revelation of Christ's dignity, it is possible that every person will be included in the fellowship with him. Schleiermacher's position remains theocentric; predestination is defined in terms of divine omniscience and omnipotence, not in terms of redemption. Christ is the universal mediator of salvation, but his appearance in history does not contribute significantly to the determination of the divine decree.

This chapter discusses the influence of religious ideas on legal values and experience, citing examples from religious law (especially Jewish law and the Talmud), the French civil code, and the German Constitution. The idea of law as a path to redemption for a people or nation is examined. The author points out that he considers the “original intent” of the framers of the Constitution (and its subsequent Amendments) irrelevant for the purposes of this book's analysis.

At first glance, American Universalism seems to have been one of the clearest manifestations of the rational spirit of the revolutionary era, and with its bold assertion of salvation for all, the Universalist movement was shocking even in an atmosphere charged with challenges to orthodox Calvinist doctrines. In the nineteenth century, Universalists became even more closely identified with rationalistic dissent. Drawing upon eighteenth-century evangelical Calvinism on the one hand and Enlightenment liberalism on the other, Universalism emerged as an attempt to nourish piety through rational conviction. Reason, Universalists argued, dictated that a benevolent God would redeem all of creation; the doctrine of universal salvation was God’s way of influencing human affections and turning naturally self-centred human beings to the love of God and the greater creation. This chapter traces the early development of the movement and the notable figures involved.

By the 1850s, when their denomination faced serious conflicts over its identity and direction, most Universalists tended to regard Hosea Ballou as a grandfatherly figure, a benign symbol of their heritage, and his death in 1851 occasioned a genuine out‐pouring of grief among his spiritual heirs, who respected him as a great religious reformer. However, for a growing number of adherents, the doctrine of universal salvation was becoming less the crucial core of a saving faith, as it had been for Ballou, than a call to orderly moral reform in the light of the brotherhood and perfectibility of humanity. This shift, in many respects a natural consequence of restorationist belief, manifested itself not only in theology but also in the participation of Universalists in various programs of social reform and in the expanding roles of women within the church. There was, nevertheless, no inherent or inevitable connection between Universalism and reform activity. Indeed, a survey of their involvement in social organizations and movements beyond their church shows that nineteenth-century Universalists shared few, if any, common assumptions about the social imperatives of their faith.

When Hosea Ballou died in 1852, belief in the supernatural rule of God apparently held sway among most American Protestants, but the idea of universal salvation remained highly suspect. Twenty years later, supernatural rule had fallen under serious question, but except among outspoken theologians and conservative evangelicals, few appear to have considered universal salvation a particularly threatening or controversial issue. Such major shifts in outlook naturally had deep and complex cultural roots that resist generalization. Yet one general point seems inescapable: the traditional focus of religious attention on the hope of eternal redemption was becoming culturally irrelevant.

This chapter describes stewardship theologies, which tend to follow the obedient discipleship themes in redemption. It argues that the strategy of Christian stewardship frames environmental issues around faithful response to God's invitation and command. By appropriating the biblical trope of stewardship, this strategy organizes concern for environmental problems around obligatory service to the Creator, who entrusts to humans measured responsibilities for creation. To specify the character of this earthkeeping trust, the strategy looks to biblical accounts of how God invites humans into relationship. Stewardship thus situates the specific call to care for the earth within a general divine call to faithful relationship. By making environmental issues matter for Christian experience in reference to God's actions toward humanity, the stewardship strategy follows a background pattern of redemption. It focuses primarily on faithful practices, describing how to inhabit the providential landscape created by God's special relationship to humans.

Stewardship needs to show how God's action makes nature matter for faithful practices. To investigate theological support for an answer, this chapter turns to Karl Barth, querying the thoughts of this theologian of redemption with regard to the problems of stewardship ethics. Since the strategy of stewardship appeals to the general pattern of grace Barth defended, his theology should display the liabilities and the promise of stewardship. It should also point stewardship theologies toward the most helpful resources within the pattern of redemptive grace. The chapter inquires especially after themes of place and reconciliation in Barth.