In Prodigal Christ, Kendall Walser Cox brings two readings of Luke 15 together – that of Karl Barth in his Church Dogmatics and that of Julian of Norwich in her Revelations of Divine Love. Although many interpreters have been drawn to the parable often referred to as the ‘Prodigal Son’, these two figures are distinctive in the depth of their christological reflections on the passage. But as Cox notes in her introduction, the reception of these two readings has not been symmetrical. For many, Barth's reading is considered unprecedented and singular, and yet Julian's existed over five hundred years prior.
After introducing her own readers to Julian of Norwich's interpretation, Cox provides a framework for what holds these two figures together. Their christological readings of the parable in Luke 15 are not a coincidence or anomaly within these figures’ respective theological programmes; in fact, the reality is quite the opposite. Cox presents Barth and Julian as story re-tellers. They are both interpreters who layer narratives, particularly parables, with meaning, and this similarity in their reading strategies is what results in their christological interpretations. Their expectation is that the texts points to Christ (e.g. p. 18).
The first chapter is ‘Prodigal Reading’. Here Cox presents an introduction to the parable, which includes other interpretations from its history, as well as a broader discussion of what parables are for and how they should be read. Within this chapter, Cox brings together some traditional discussions on parables from biblical studies via C. H. Dodd and John Dominic Crossan with literature on hermeneutics via Paul Ricoeur and Janet Soskice. Although Cox's work is probably best described as historical theology, she demonstrates her proficiency in a variety of intersecting fields throughout the book.
Cox's second chapter, titled ‘Prodigal Christ’, considers aspects of Barth's and Julian's readings that emphasise the humanity of Jesus in their interpretation of the parable, both drawing upon the connections between Adam and Jesus. In this chapter, she summarises Barth's ‘direct’ reading as concerning the ‘“turning away and turning back” of humanity “in relationship to God”’ and ‘the extraordinary elevation of the son in his homecoming’ (p. 90). But Barth's ‘indirect’ reading, which he recognises goes beyond what is plainly stated, presents Christ as the younger son who goes out into the world and returns to God. This portrait of Christ allows him to represent all of humanity who once was far from God but now through Christ has been brought near. Cox then turns her attention towards Julian who emphasises the younger son as ‘servant’. Through this image, she too introduces the idea that Christ in his humanity, particularly in his various weaknesses, represents humanity.
The third chapter in Cox's work (‘Prodigal Mother’) flows from the prior in a way that resembles the argument she is making. The presentation of Jesus as servant in her reading of Luke 15 appears in chapter 51 of Revelations of Divine Love, and in the next chapters (chapters 52–63), Julian presents God as mother. Cox argues that Julian's interpretation of the parable ‘enables’ this vibrant theme (p. 123). This chapter provides a rich introduction to Julian's theology proper as motherhood, including her conception of ‘atonement as beclosure’ – ‘the enclosure of humanity-in-Christ and God-in-Christ’ (p. 141). The union of humanity with God is key to the ‘unblaming’ of the ‘[doom] of the Lord’ (p. 140). Barth has no parallel conception of God; he is Father. But, as Cox will show in the next chapter, the absence of a feminine ideal in the work of Barth is by no means surprising.
The fourth chapter is ‘Prodigal Son of God’. In this chapter Barth returns to the forefront of Cox's analysis. She continues in her reflection on the parent–child imagery at work in the theologies of Barth and Julian, focusing primarily on Barth's conception of the Father–Son relationship. However, in Julian, Cox sees mutuality; in Barth, she sees subordination. Barth uses the traditional language of processions to interpret the parable as a description of God in se. The Son by his own volition goes out into the world (his sending), yet he is obedient to the Father. In this obedience Barth sees subservience. In Cox's fifth chapter, titled ‘Parabolic Theology’, she offers an overall synthesis of the two readings and a vision for theology that coheres with their interpretations.
This work by Kendall Walser Cox is interesting, engaging and beautiful. Above I described her work as ‘historical theology’, as she carefully presents the interpretations of these figures without comment. She brings them into conversation with one another, but rarely presents them in explicit conversation with herself. This is a descriptive and not a critical comment. If you would like a fuller understanding of the theology of Karl Barth or Julian of Norwich, then this book provides that alongside a multifaceted lens on the Parable of the Prodigal Son in Luke 15.
