In their introduction to this collection of twenty-two essays, spanning close to 800 pages, editors Chris De Wet and Wendy Mayer explain some of their goals for the volume. Three of the most important, as it seems to me, are (1.) that the studies of Chrysostom are themselves methodologically diverse; (2.) that a diversity of voices (particularly ranging from junior to senior scholars) is canvassed; and (3.) that the contributions be, broadly speaking, theoretical. Even if some of the contributions in the volume do not ‘do theory’ (i.e. employ contemporary insights from philosophy, literary studies or other cross-disciplinary/interdisciplinary studies), all of the essays are nevertheless methodologically reflective. They are therefore often critical of past consensus surrounding Chrysostom and his work. In what follows I highlight some of the trajectories evident in several related series of essays.

The first series of essays which I will mention continues a trend from the last decade or so, examining medical studies and the emotions/passions in relation to Chrysostom's corpus. On the emotional side, the essays by Peter Moore and Yannis Papadogiannakis investigate ‘the workings of emotional communities’ (p. 303), and Chrysostom's ability to harness emotions for the formation of the community to which he was preaching. Jessica Wright's and Chris De Wet's essays both delve more deeply into Chrysostom's employment of medical discourse, on the brain and nervous system and on gluttony and obesity respectively. Both essays point to the social and ecclesial power of Chrysostom's medical discourse, which is these cases is more than mere metaphor, and informs his whole understanding of the human person and of the collective Church. And whereas these studies draw upon the Greco-Roman medical tradition, James Cook's essay reminds us that Chrysostom's ‘therapy of the soul’ also comes from his reading of Scripture. While these contributions are perhaps cutting edge enough, some push even further. For example, Blake Leyerle's and Leslie Dossey's essays show how Chrysostom orders civic space and time, respectively, in his sermons.

Another series of essays offers a sustained conversation on the impact of Chrysostom's preaching on his audience; the different opinions are really welcome on this front, since, as Isabella Sandwell says, ‘The whole field of the study of John Chrysostom's preaching has been under-theorised’ (p. 137); this cannot now be said of this aspect of Chrysostom studies, as the essays by Sandwell herself, Wendy Mayer, Geert Roskam and Jan Stenger all offer different visions of the interaction between preacher and audience: Mayer and Sandwell, bypassing the problematics of ‘authorial intent’ (we think of the ‘death of the author’), focus on the effects of Chrysostom's preaching on the audience, drawing, respectively, on recent neuroscience and theories of mass communication. In contrast, Roskam shows that Chrysostom himself is acutely aware of his lack of control over how his words are received (which problem Mayer and Sandwell draw attention to), and thence comes Chrysostom's exaltation of the choice of individual audience members to ‘apply medicines’ to themselves from the treasuries of his sermons.

Along with this reassessment of the impact of Chrysostom's preaching are several, more diverse contributions to Chrysostom's theology and philosophy. Even though we would expect this ground to be well covered over the last century or two, Chrysostom's theological pedigree and distinct theological contributions are still emerging. Among these, Samuel Pomeroy's shows that Chrysostom is indebted to Eusebius of Caesarea's Preparatio evangelica in his citations of Plato's Timaeus. As Chrysostom is notorious for not disclosing his sources, this observation has the potential to yield real insights into Chrysostom's broader theological and philosophical debts. Additionally, Constantine Bozinis's essay is the first in-depth study on a topic of great importance to Chrysostom: namely, natural law or natural instruction. Although, as with Pomeroy's essay, more work remains to be done, this essay represents an excellent starting point on Chrysostom's doctrine of natural law. (Relatedly, Benjamin Dunning's essay on Chrysostom's place within the history of sexuality questions the coherence of Chrysostom's rhetoric on natural law, as relates to ‘Same-sex eros’.) Essays on Chrysostom's reception of Cynicism (Gkortsilas), his demonology (Miller) and his exemplary ethical use of biblical characters (Tonias; Lai) round off this series of theological and philosophical essays. (Also related to these essays on biblical exemplars is Courtney Wilson VanVeller's opening essay on Chrysostom's emulation of the Apostle Paul's rhetoric.)

While many of the above essays represent important advances in Chrysostom studies, among the most stimulating essays are historical (re)assessments of Chrysostom's episcopacy in Constantinople. Jonathan Stanfill's essay draws attention to Chrysostom's mission to the Goths within the city and imagines the social and ecclesial impact of multi-lingual and multi-ethnic processions in which Goths and other non-Greek Nicenes were included. Justin Pigott's essay argues forcefully against the portrait of John Chrysostom as an inept bishop, focusing instead on the uniqueness of the city of Constantinople as an upstart see: in other words, Chrysostom's lack of success comes not from his unyielding personality (indeed, this is considered a positive attribute in other late antique bishops, for example, in Alexandria), but from the novelty of the Constantinopolitan primacy and its proximity to the politics of the imperial court.

As the editors intended, this book as a whole is certainly a celebration of the diversity of the field of Chrysostom studies – and this is a laudable goal. Nevertheless, there are moments when the sheer immensity of the body of Chrysostom's works coupled with this methodological diversity makes it feel as if the field is so diverse that it does not in fact cohere as a field at all: are we speaking about the person, his rhetoric and his theology? Are we speaking about his audience, or the ‘social history’ to which his sermons witness? (These are very different objects of inquiry.) And which of his 800-plus sermons (not to mention letters and treatises) are we speaking of? While I did thus feel lost at times as I read through this volume, De Wet and Mayer have more often allowed us to see true scholarly conversation on John Chrysostom at its best, particularly in the several series of essays mentioned above.