The Council Fathers at Vatican II struggled to negotiate the Council's teaching on divine revelation with regard to the teaching of Trent, but more immediately with regard to the modern theology of the Magisterium and the modern value of historical criticism that had recently been recognized by Pius XII as having a legitimate role in the interpretation of Scripture. Dei Verbum's teaching stressed the unity of Scripture and tradition in the revelation of God's word, but never considered the role of historical criticism in the interpretation of God's word in tradition that it affirmed in God's revelation in the biblical word. This article argues that the recognition of the legitimate role of historical criticism in the interpretation of tradition remains an issue of needed development in the teaching of Dei Verbum.

This essay aims to show that baseball's time-honored emphases on physical and spiritual discipline follow from its metaphysical imaginary. In turn, it will reason that Christian life and thought are capable of illuminating baseball—and vice versa. The argument will proceed as follows: First, both Christianity and baseball frame their worlds in terms of emanation (exitus) and return (reditus): “players” leave home and aim to return home; second, though players belong to a team or community (ecclesia), the task of returning home is ultimately a solitary one; it has to be done by the individual player, even if the team, too, benefits from the individual's undertaking; and third, the spiritual or attitudinal development of the individual is thus crucial: players have to attend to how they approach the “game,” particularly in terms of their internal comportment. This last point will receive special attention: it will be reasoned that Søren Kierkegaard's spiritual writings, tendered for the existential “upbuilding” (Opbyggelse) of “the single individual” (den Enkelte), might likewise offer upbuilding insights for the individuals who play baseball—a sport that John Updike once called “an essentially lonely game.”

In an age of environmental crisis, ecological theologians call for the “ecological conversion” of humanity. This article, a work of practical theology, plays on the grammatical ambiguity of Mark 10:15, in which disciples are told to “receive the kingdom as a child,” to argue that ecological conversion is a twofold conversion to the child. One conversion is a turn to the well-being of children in an age of climate crisis, which involves an adult personal transformation into the role of caregiver—and thus greater maturity. The other conversion is a recovery of certain childlike capacities, including presence in the moment, interdependence in relationship, urgency, animism, and love of the small. The article draws on Pope Francis’ encyclical Laudato Si’, discussions of childhood by the nineteenth-century Protestant theologian Friedrich Schleiermacher, and contemporary explorations of children and childhood, including the author's own experience of caregiving with children.

Theologians have recently shown interest in the work of Irish metaphysician William Desmond. A prevailing antimetaphysical sentiment may, however, discourage others from engaging his work. To allay concerns, this article brings Desmond into conversation with Jean-Luc Marion on the topic of divine revelation. The purpose is twofold. First, for those wary of metaphysics, this essay demonstrates that Desmond's metaxology evades Marion's critique and, more importantly, shows how the two thinkers share a “familial intimacy.” Despite the opposition between metaphysics and phenomenology, this intimacy renders them companion thinkers. Second, this companionship is theologically beneficial to Desmond. With Marion as guide, we consider how the concept of divine charity can be added into Desmond's metaphysics in what I call the passio caritatis, or “passion of charity.” The article concludes by suggesting how undergoing the passio caritatis effects a theological expansion of Desmond's metaphysics and puts it at the service of theological reflection.

After the initial contextualization of the topic, by following Nancy's juxtaposition strategy, this article points to two senses of the body that, according to him, have defined the Western culture. The first one, logos (principle precedes the body and gives it meaning); the second, sarx (the meaning of the body comes from the body itself, so that the body comes out of itself, alienates itself, and deconstructs its own representative activities). Next, I give a more precise depiction of Nancy's deconstruction of the body through an analysis of Corpus because it is precisely with this work (in the chapter On the Soul, which is also the title of Aristotle's well-known treatise dealing first and foremost with the body, and in the chapter The Extension of the Soul) that Nancy most explicitly deconstructs hylomorphic somatology, which largely influenced the Christian theology of the body. Furthermore, I interpret Genesis 2:18–25 (in constant dialogue with Nancy) as a theological reaction on Nancy's deconstruction of the body. In other words, on the basis of biblical texts, the “mystery of the body” is depicted. Finally, the article ends with a comparison of Nancy's “inoperative community” (communauté désoeuvrée) and the Body of Christ (church).

Recent publications on theology and film attempting to explain what a parable is remain less clear about how or why a parable works for cinema, and many definitions do not fully take into account the formal dynamics of film qua film nor parable qua parable. I seek to demonstrate the benefits of a more precise conception of cinematic parables by utilizing philosopher Paul Ricoeur's understanding of “parable” to make theological interpretations of film that take audio-visual aesthetics into consideration. I conclude with three recent examples of cinematic parables in order to demonstrate this Ricoeurian parabolic hermeneutic: Asghar Farhadi's Iranian melodrama, A Separation (2011), American filmmaker Anna Rose Holmer's enigmatic The Fits (2016), and Aki Kaurismäki's droll Finnish comedy, The Other Side of Hope (2017). Ultimately, I make a case for film as theology, what I am calling “theocinematics.”

Through the writings of Jean Vanier, this paper encourages Catholic theologians to examine critically their theological sources and their own rhetoric for the context of developmental disabilities. Specifically, this thought experiment is an invitation for the Catholic academy to consider how its theologies of charity can assist the church to reflect on its pastoral ministry to people with developmental disabilities. Some Catholic discourse is built on an assumed one-directional concept of charity that emphasizes the agency and gifts of the giver over the receiver. Such a one-sided model of hospitality tends to emphasize the giver as the person without developmental disabilities, whereas the person with disabilities is described as the receiver of hospitality; their own gifts and agency thereby are either unacknowledged or downplayed. This paper argues, instead, that Catholic theologies of charity, particularly regarding developmental disabilities, should be built on a mutuality that affirms each person's agency to be both a giver and a receiver of charity.

“How has the ecumenical movement changed in the twenty-five years since Ut Unum Sint was written?”

A quarter of a century has passed since the 1994 genocide against the Tutsi in Rwanda and the 1995 genocide in Bosnia and Herzegovina. The anniversaries of these tragedies beckon us to reflect on the responsibility of theologians, scholars of religion, and religious educators to confront genocide. How should scholars use the tools of these disciplines to educate about genocide responsibly and promote peace and respect for human dignity and rights in the wake of such tragedy? How might they utilize their intellectual, spiritual, and material resources to help prevent violent extremism and genocide? Four scholars who have profoundly engaged these questions in their academic work generously agreed to contribute to this roundtable. One of them writes directly from his context of Rwanda, while another writes from her homeland in Bosnia and Herzegovina. The two scholars based in the United States have also systematically confronted the problem of ethnic and religious hatred and genocide, focusing on the Holocaust and the Bosnian genocide, respectively. All four contributors serve as remarkable examples of theologians and scholars of religion who have used their training and skills to promote a world where “never again” is not merely a slogan.

“Today, our world is experiencing a tragic famine of hope. How much pain is all around us, how much emptiness, how much inconsolable grief. Let us, then, become messengers of the comfort bestowed by the Spirit. Let us radiate hope, and the Lord will open new paths as we journey toward the future.” These challenging and uplifting words by His Holiness Pope Francis were part of an ecumenical service with the Archbishops of Canterbury and York and the Coptic Archbishop of London this year. Preaching during the impact of COVID-19 worldwide, Pope Francis’ message also frames the challenges and hopes of Anglican/Episcopal-Roman Catholic dialogue in the twenty-five years since Pope John Paul II's encyclical Ut Unum Sint (UUS), “That They May Be One.”

When the world came to its senses after the Second World War and reports of the horrors of the Holocaust began to spread, the international community reacted with disbelief. And when reality proved much worse than even the worst nightmare, the world community reacted unanimously with a general outcry: crimes of this magnitude must never happen again. It appeared quite clear that, in the future, the international community would never again remain inactive in the face of such appalling tragedy. Yet, the firm imperative “never again” has become “again and again,” and the same dreadful crimes have been repeated in many parts of the world.

Twenty-five years after the end of the war, the political and social scene of Bosnia and Herzegovina is still characterized by the mentality of the 1990s. In recent months, we have witnessed political rhetoric that is very much reminiscent of the time before, at the beginning, and during the war. In the first part of this essay, I will try to present some of the reasons for this situation. In the second part, I will point out the responsibility of intellectuals for such a condition. In this concluding section, I will discuss how we have used our academic resources in an attempt to change the situation and strengthen social responsibility.

“The entire ecumenical liturgical conversation and dialogue is over—finished, dead, done.”

A tempting response to this question is: how has it not changed during those years? The previous quarter century was a profoundly significant period for the ecumenical movement. The movement achieved remarkable breakthroughs on historically church-dividing issues, confronted the emergence of new church-dividing issues, fostered an exchange of gifts to help churches overcome their divisions (old and new), and deepened the churches’ commitment to ecumenism, making the ecumenical movement a prophetic sign for our time. I will consider each of these points in turn. First, a word on the significance of Ut Unum Sint (UUS) itself.

I am thankful to be invited to share some reflections on the genocide in Bosnia-Herzegovina and on the actions of scholars in Bosnia-Herzegovina and around the world in resisting genocide and in promoting peace, justice, and respect for human dignity in the face of such a tragedy.

How has Pastor Aeternus stood the test of time in the face of Vatican II, the great social leveling brought about by democracy and the mass media, and the severe erosion of confidence in hierarchical institutions, including the Catholic Church?