In his influential study The Sacred Canopy, Peter Berger asserted that “the power of religion depends, in the last resort, upon the credibility of the banners it puts in the hands of men as they stand before death or, more accurately, as they walk, inevitably, toward it.” Berger was not suggesting that religion is primarily a private obsession of the individual with death. Rather his thesis is that religion is a social phenomenon, part of the human enterprise of “world-building” by which we attempt “to impose a meaningful order upon reality.” The significance of death is not an individual matter because “death radically challenges all socially objectivated definitions of reality—of the world, of others, and of the self. Death radically puts in question the taken-for-granted, ‘business-as-usual’ attitude in which one exists in everyday life. Here everything in the daytime world of existence in society is massively threatened with ‘irreality’—that is, everything in that world becomes dubious, eventually unreal, other than what one used to think.” In short, death is a threat to the meaningfulness not only of the individual life, but of the common enterprise of society and, indeed, of any attempt, social, religious or philosophical, to perceive reality as a coherent and purposeful order.

Twice in the book of Exodus where tradition preserves the revelation of the divine name to Moses, God employs a peculiar idiom which S. R. Driver has called the idem per idem. In Exod 3:14 God says:

I will be what I will be

and again in 33:19 he tells his servant:

But I will be gracious to whom I will be gracious

and I will show mercy on whom I will show mercy

The idem per idem is a tautology of sorts which Driver says is employed “where the means or the desire to be more explicit does not exist.” Driver calls the idiom Semitic, and indeed it is, as one can see by perusing the many examples from Hebrew and Arabic cited earlier by Paul de Lagarde in his Psalterium Iuxta Hebraeos Hieronymi. But it is also found, as we shall see in a moment, in other languages both ancient and modern.

Although Meister Eckhart himself might have been puzzled by the term, he is traditionally known as a mystic. The designation surely does apply, in the sense that Eckhart sought and recommended a kind of union between the soul and God. But as soon as one proceeds to analyze the precise nature of that union, difficulties abound. In recent literature it has become clear that the Christian mystical tradition has employed various distinct concepts of union with God, and scholars have inquired what sort of union one or another mystic sought. This effort has been made, for example, in studies of John Tauler and The Cloud of Unknowing. In examining these and other mystics, particularly those of the Western medieval tradition, scholars have asked whether they viewed union with God as a momentary experience or as an ongoing way of life, and whether they saw this union as continuous and compatible with ordinary religious experience and knowledge or as discontinuous and incompatible. The present article will attempt to answer such questions in regard to Meister Eckhart, in hopes of clarifying an aspect of his thought which, though fundamental, is most commonly approached only tangentially in the literature.

Tolstoi's Confession is the story of the spiritual crisis which its author experienced during the late 1870s, when the man who had written War and Peace and Anna Karenina came to believe that he had accomplished nothing in life, that his life was meaningless. Although there are parallels between the torments of Levin in Anna Karenina and Tolstoi's own conflicts in the Confession, the latter piece was written in 1879, two years after the publication of the former, and represents a more developed reflection on “the problem of life.” As I shall argue in this article, the resolution of the crisis related in Tolstoi's Confession comes in a movement of faith which emerges as the fourth aspect of a four-dimensional change or metamorphosis within the individual. The four-dimensions of the metamorphosis may be described as (1) the encounter with death, (2) the onset of despair, (3) the struggle for possibility, and (4) the movement of faith. Let us now see how an analysis of the movement of faith as revealed in Tolstoi's Confession may be rendered in these terms.

In his long and distinguished career which bridged two centuries, Sir Oliver Lodge (1851–1940) was one of the most versatile intellectual figures in England. His discoveries in physics placed him in the first rank of British science. For his work in electricity, radio, and wave theory Lodge was awarded the Rumford and Alfred medals by the Royal Society. He also was a Romanes Lecturer at Oxford, a president of the British Association for the Advancement of Science, and the first Principal of the University of Birmingham. Lodge's publication record is breathtaking: more than 1,200 items, including nearly forty books, over a sixty-year period. While more than half of these were purely scientific or technical, it is significant that more than 100 pieces dealt with psychical research and an additional 170 books and articles dealt with topics in philosophy and religion. More than half of Lodge's writings in this latter category appeared between 1896 and 1914.

In a 1963 article in the Journal of Religion, Langdon Gilkey examined the troubled condition of the doctrine of providence and concluded that it had become “the forgotten stepchild of contemporary theology.” He attributed its demise to the violent eruptions of evil in our century, the unfortunate link between the doctrine and now defunct theories of natural theology, as well as the pervasive Arminianism and naturalism of contemporary thought. Current neglect of the concept was all the more striking, he reflected, because of its integral relationship to nearly all the theological systems of the preceding century.

Philosophical hermeneutics concerns itself with the philosophical concepts a theologian uses to express the content of revelation. This paper is an exercise in the philosophical hermeneutics of Karl Rahner. It will focus on one particular aspect of his philosophical background, namely those elements which he shares with the philosophy of G. W. F. Hegel. This exercise is designed to be conceptual in nature, rather than historical. The question of how much of Rahner's thought is directly influenced by his reading and study of Hegel is probably not answerable with certainty and, at any rate, is not as interesting as the conceptual question of how these two thinkers took recourse to very similar ideas in order to solve some common problems.