By way of fourteen different essays, this volume presents the results of the fourth ‘summit’ meeting, held in New York around Easter of 2003 on the theme of ‘redemption’. In a sense, as O'Collins points out (p. 1), each of the ‘summits’ has focused on Jesus Christ: his resurrection (1996), his life within the Trinity (1998) and his incarnation (2000). This time, the work of Christ in redemption was the central issue. The essays approach this theme from a number of different angles, varying from the exegetical to the liturgical, from the historical to the philosophical, from to the doctrinal to the artistic, and from the literary to the homiletical. Each of the essays clearly presents an erudite elaboration of whatever aspect of redemption it is that the author proposes to discuss, and there is little doubt that the various authors are well equipped for their respective tasks. The result is a volume in which first-rate scholars present a variety of issues that come into play in connection with the theology of redemption.

One of the difficulties in presenting a volume that approaches one theme from so many different angles is that coherence easily remains elusive. In this particular case, drafts of the papers had been circulated to the participants beforehand, while extensive discussion on the various papers took place during the symposium. There is indeed evidence of such discussion throughout the book. Every now and again, the authors make cross-references to each other's papers. Mostly, however, they proceed to argue their own case without reference to the other participants' work. The result is a lack of cohesion. Apart from the theme of redemption, there is little that ties the work together, and it remains unclear whether or not the various drafts were substantially changed as a result of internal discussion. It would have been helpful had the editors given the readers more insight in the process and perhaps made them privy to some of the discussions that no doubt must have been intense in certain instances. It is interesting, for example, that Fee, Wright and Aletti seem to do their exegetical work mostly independently from later theological reflection. Christopher Seitz's more theological approach to the biblical text clearly conflicts with the more straightforward historical approaches of some of the other authors. What is more, the historical theological reflections of Daley and Walker Bynum would have offered significant impulses, it seems to me, for a deeper appreciation for theological readings of the New Testament than is evident in some of the essays here. The volume is somewhat disappointing in that the various disciplines seem mostly content simply to coexist. In that sense, even if the symposium itself was indeed truly interdisciplinary, this cannot be said of the resulting volume. Interdisciplinarity requires that the various disciplines engage one another and ask questions of one another. There is little evidence of that in the current collection of essays.

One essay is a clear exception to this general trend of peaceful co-existence: Christopher Seitz's chapter on ‘Reconciliation and the Plain Sense Witness of Scripture’. In a rather spirited attack on N. T. Wright's historical approach, Seitz insists that Wright unduly diminishes the role of Isaiah's servant and wrongly believes that we have historical access to ‘the mind of Jesus’. Seitz accuses Wright of imposing the exile-restoration motif onto the biblical text with insufficient warrant. The result, argues Seitz, is that we lose the significance of the ransom language, which is crucial to an understanding of reconciliation: ‘The “mindset of Jesus” begins actually to encroach on and reproportionalise the plain sense of OT and NT’ (p. 40). The result of Seitz's critique is that the reader approaches the chapter by N. T. Wright with some anticipation. Wright, however, refuses to be drawn into a direct discussion with Seitz. Instead, Wright presents a general defence of the ‘New Perspective’ on Paul and explains how, in his view, redemption functions within the various narrative contexts of the theology of St Paul. The result is that Wright confronts himself more with traditional Lutheran (and, to some extent, Reformed) readings of Paul than with Seitz's approach. (To be sure, Wright's discussion of the exilic theme offers plenty of substance for Seitz to chew on, even though he could have found most of this substance already in several of Wright's earlier books.) A more direct interaction between the two authors would have been helpful for this particular volume. As it is, Wright gives us a general – though quite lucid and helpful – introduction to his approach to Pauline theology.

There are several elements that one would have liked to see in a book of this nature: more interaction with Eastern Orthodoxy, more engagement with the history of Christian thought and, especially, more extensive discussion of the place of the church's liturgy in connection with the theology of redemption. As it is, we have an illuminating chapter by Peter Ochs on the Jewish prayer book and its theology of redemption, and there are a few small segments on the Eucharist and purgatory in Walker Bynum's chapter, but there is no sustained treatment about the relationship between Christian liturgy and the doctrine of redemption. In general terms, it seems to me that the historical theological section – the church of all times and places – is rather under-represented with only two chapters, compared to the six chapters devoted to biblical questions.

While most of the chapters in this book are solid, several seem to me to stand out in terms of their creativity and ability to contribute positively to current discussions about redemption. Caroline Walker Bynum's chapter, ‘The Power in the Blood’, is a most welcome antidote to some of the commonplaces that we find too often in theologies of atonement. First, she effectively questions the development of atonement theology from Christus victor to exemplaric and substitutionary views. In particular, with regard to the Middle Ages, she challenges the popular view that Anselm and Abelard presented to opposing atonement theologies: ‘There are not then two redemption theories (Abelardian and Anselmian) in the Middle Ages but one’ (p. 181). Second, Walker Bynum rightly challenges the facile ways in which some scholars trace medieval and later cultural violence to satisfaction theories of atonement. Finally, she presents participation in Christ – understood as metonymy or pars pro toto – as the medieval understanding of redemption: ‘The late medieval habit of understanding part to be whole, instance to be in exemplar, made it possible to think not only of humans subsumed in the humanitas of Christ but also of relatives, neighbours, even heretics as subsumed into one's own suffering in a union that was more participation than substitution’ (p. 197). This essay offers a great deal of food for thought!

Another chapter that I thought was quite intriguing was C. Stephen Evans's essay on ‘Catholic-Protestant Views of Justification’, even though it left me ultimately not quite convinced. Evans makes the case that theological disagreements can serve positive ends. God may purposely guide sincere Christians into theological misunderstanding because in his wisdom ‘he might realize that there are some truths which we humans would be especially prone to misuse’ (p. 204). So, to prevent our misuse, God does not give us entirely accurate insight in the truth, but only allows us to have approximations of the truth. The result, argues Evans, is that when we have theological disagreements – as long as they lie within the bounds of the ecumenical creeds – this is not merely something unfortunate: ‘Christians on one side of such an issue can understand and affirm the convictions of those on the other side, and even see God's providential hand in the division, bringing good out of a situation that is not in itself good’ (p. 262). Evans then explains how his thesis applies to the differences involved in the Catholic-Protestant divide on justification.

I applaud Evans's irenic attitude, and I agree that God may providentially use theological differences of opinion. I am also quite sympathetic to his critical realist epistemology. Perhaps it is even true that we can learn from theological emphases that other traditions bring to the fore more than our own. Nonetheless, I think it would be difficult not to believe that the truth element more emphasised by another tradition would also be present also in one's own and would be present there in a more appropriate fashion. For example, Evans maintains that the just war theorist may be ‘glad that the historic “peace” churches continue to witness to the fundamental importance of non-violence for the Christian church’ (p. 262). But is it not true that just war theorists insist that the church does not believe in the fundamental importance of non-violence? Would a just war theorist really believe that peace traditions hold non-violence in a more ‘pure and unadulterated way’, as Evans seems to suggest (p. 262)? Would not such a person rather insist that the proper criteria for the use of violence are found in just war theory, and there alone? God may well use theological differences for his own providential purposes, and as human beings we certainly need humility in dealing with our differences, as Evans rightly maintains. But by smudging the boundaries between God's providence and our duty to hold certain beliefs we too easily forget that what may seem to be helpful emphases in the other's position, actually function there in ways quite integral to the entire theological framework. Let me illustrate with just one example. Evans argues that by emphasising that justification is a free gift, Protestants ‘minimize a human tendency to see ourselves as in some way responsible for our own salvation’ (p. 269), and a Catholic could and should, in his view, recognise that this is a helpful pragmatic implication of the Protestant doctrine of justification, even if differences remain. I am not so sure. It seems to me that this is not just a matter of emphasis, and that Catholics would strongly object that we do in fact have a responsibility for our own salvation. (And, to my mind, in this instance the Catholic would be quite correct; cf. Phil 2:12.)

No doubt, were someone else to review this book, other chapters would be highlighted, and different themes would come to the fore. With a book of such variety and depth of scholarship it is simply impossible to do justice to each and every chapter. Perhaps the most positive element of this volume is that everyone, regardless of one's interest in questions surrounding redemption, will find at least several gems that make the reading of the book worthwhile.