O'Collins explains his title—and indeed his thesis—straightforwardly in his introduction: Christians should approach and engage other (non-Christian) religious traditions from the same starting point that prompts their own lives of faith, namely Jesus Christ (vii). Built into this thesis is a critique of most Christian theologies of religions to work themselves out along theological or philosophical lines. Such theologies form explanatory systems showing how salvation is mediated by non-Christian religions, but that sterile approach leaves them largely detached from themes integral to Christian faith (18–19, 22): most importantly, suffering, vulnerability, and crucifixion.
O'Collins corrects this tendency by developing a Christology (rather than theology) of religion. By only beginning from themes related to the person and saving work of Jesus Christ, his Christology contrasts with Christocentric theologies of religions and upends their exclusivistic tendencies. His starting point leads him to argue that the incarnate and risen Christ is “absent from nobody” (64) and that the church participates in Christ's priesthood through loving intercession (90–93).
Chapters 1 and 2, on incarnation and high priesthood, form the keystones of his Christology of religions. The incarnation, O'Collins reminds readers, is the condition for the life and practice of Jesus (2), including his ministry to outsiders (9), his command to love suffering people (17), his death on Calvary (21), and his expectation about the coming kingdom (24). None of these messages can be interpreted apart from his (incarnational) person. O'Collins also sees untapped possibility in Christ's high priesthood. As high priest, Christ's intercessory capacity is “not only for descendants of Abraham but also for all who belong to the human family” (37). Christ is priest for all the world, acting with priestly power that is “universalized” by the Holy Spirit (54).
O'Collins roots these early chapters in scripture and explores relatively unchartered theological territory (Athanasius and the Letter to the Hebrews). The chapters are rich, compelling, and theologically exciting. Here, O'Collins’ light shines especially bright. The remaining chapters flow from the Christological foundations of incarnation and high priesthood. In them, O'Collins adumbrates a complementary pneumatology (chapter 3) and ecclesiology (chapter 4), interprets the universal experiences of suffering and faith through a Christological lens (chapter 5), and proposes diagnostic criteria for authentic religious experience (chapter 6). Finally, he discusses consequences for interreligious dialogue (chapter 7).
O'Collins notes at various points that his position is distinct from two great voices in the theology of religions: Karl Rahner and Jacques Dupuis. Where Rahner and Dupuis neglect Christ's high priesthood, O'Collins positions it centrally (29). Indeed, it is true that O'Collins goes beyond these two theological giants, but he also stands in their lineage. With Dupuis, O'Collins accentuates the saving power of Christ's humanity, a connection made especially apparent in his exploration of incarnation. With Rahner, O'Collins roots his project undeniably in Christian faith, while also prizing generosity toward non-Christians. Thus, O'Collins’ Christology of religion shares close kinship with Rahner's “anonymous Christianity” (albeit with a sensitivity to the problems of this language). He even develops a corollary (with a nod to John Henry Newman) to Rahner's notion of the “supernatural existential”: the “sacerdotal principle” suggests how all people participate in Christ's priestly condition (52). O'Collins’ contribution is made less by a leap beyond Rahner and Dupuis and more by a fruitful and inventive bringing together of their insights, depth of Christian faith, and profound appreciation of “other” religious ways.
The freshest place the Rahner-Dupuis trajectory takes O'Collins is, in my view, the four criteria he establishes for discerning the presence of the Word and the Spirit (127–38). This foray offers promise to other scholars who desire meaningfully to honor the faith and practices of non-Christians, while also making sense of their own faith and practices. O'Collins’ final chapter—on implications of his proposal for Muslims and Jews—was a perfect opportunity for O'Collins to put his criteria to work. Unfortunately, however, he focused on the “headlines” of interreligious engagement—that is, engagement among leaders of religious traditions—rather than on on-the-ground encounters among ordinary people of faith. This was a disappointment in an otherwise groundbreaking work of theology, but also a space where he or others can advance this trajectory.
