Stephen Palmquist has provided us with a magnificent work. Its sheer size alone dwarfs other recent commentaries on the Religion. Likewise, its encyclopedic use of the secondary literature makes this book the definitive resource for all scholars interested in either careful textual or philosophical analysis of Kant’s principal work in the philosophy of religion.

As Palmquist’s title indicates, this is not merely a commentary, but a ‘comprehensive’ commentary of a sort rarely seen in philosophical scholarship. In contrast to existing commentaries that explore the Religion chapter by chapter or section by section, Palmquist takes the reader through the text at nearly a sentence by sentence pace. His commentary thus advances extremely slowly and carefully through the Religion: first, a sentence or two is given in (revised-Pluhar) translation; second, Palmquist provides anywhere from a brief synopsis to a lengthy examination of its philosophical contents; third, the passage is annotated with copious footnotes on issues of translation; and fourth (either in the footnotes or main body), Palmquist engages with the secondary literature.

Through this process, Palmquist crafts, as described in its preface: ‘a work that any reader interested in Kant’s treatment of questions relating to religion can turn to for clarification of and assistance on any specific passage in Kant’s book’ (p. xiv). This, however, is not a commentary directed primarily to the novice, nor even the initiate. While Palmquist is correct that any reader of the Religion will be able to turn to the Comprehensive Commentary and find answers to questions of textual interpretation, this is a work most suited to the Religion adept. It does not offer novice readers a map to the Religion. Rather, it serves more as a reference work, a meticulous – though still awesome – study of the Religion’s minutiae. As Palmquist explains, the Comprehensive Commentary is ‘to be used more like an encyclopedia: readers can dip into whatever section may interest them in order to get a clear and concise description of what is happening on the corresponding page(s) of Religion’ (p. xvi). Palmquist even works carefully through the differences between the first and second editions of the Religion, often presenting the new material in the latter as responses by Kant to G. C. Storr’s Reference Storr1793 Annotationes quaedam theologicae ad philosophicam Kantii de religione doctrinam.

Of course, given the contents and the ongoing interpretative controversies, it is not to be expected that this reference text is thoroughly impartial. Palmquist does have various philosophical and religious commitments that inform both his broader treatment of Kant’s philosophy of religion as well as his presentation of the Religion’s minutiae. Some of these preferences are clearly telegraphed, and while at times idiosyncratic, they are still for the most part innocuous (such as his translation of Gesinnung as ‘conviction’). Sometimes, though, his preferences may be more disconcerting to certain readers. Before I turn to two such examples, let me say a bit more about the stated hermeneutical principles that guide the whole.

First, Palmquist opposes the long-standing assumption that the Religion is a flawed work. Until recently, readers have not thought well of this text. From Goethe’s worries of doctrinal capitulation (letter to Herder of 7 June 1793), to Gordon Michalson’s charge that the project of the Religion is adulterated by unending ‘wobbles’ between incompatible Christian and Enlightenment views (Michalson Reference Michalson1990: 8), many have deemed this text a ‘Failure’ (Hare Reference Hare1996: 60). However, along with a few other recent interpreters (myself included), Palmquist finds in the Religion a far more coherent philosophical theology and penetrating exploration of Christian doctrine.

Second, Palmquist reads many of the core arguments of the Religion as following the familiar Kantian strategy of identifying two opposing positions that then become resolved by a third position rooted in transcendental idealism. Hence, where previous readers did not see how Kant reconciled or overcame these seeming oppositions, Palmquist has shown how the many interpretative stumbling blocks can be overcome just by virtue of a more attentive reading of the text.

Third, Palmquist holds that Kant’s philosophy of religion includes full-fledged convictions (Überzeugungen). Its principles are not mere symbolism, nor held in the mode of ‘as if’, nor capitulations to Prussian censors, nor practical commitments only there for our motivational needs versus a genuine holding-to-be-true (Fürwahrhalten). In other words, Palmquist wants to take seriously Kant’s claim in the B-preface to the Critique of Pure Reason that he sought out the limits to knowledge ‘in order to make room for faith (Glaube)’ (Bxxx). As such, Palmquist follows his earlier Kant’s Critical Religion (2000), advancing what has of late come to be known as the ‘affirmative’ reading of Kant’s philosophy of religion.

The ‘affirmative’ interpreters, however, come in many different stripes. At one extreme we can place Chris Firestone and Nathan Jacobs (2008), who present the Religion as orthodox Christian apologetics (using what they call ‘Transcendental Platonism’ to establish that Kant believed in the divinity of Christ, etc.). By contrast, my work may be located at the other end of the ‘affirmative’ spectrum, for my focus is on the philosophical merits of Kant’s pure rational system of religion rather than its conformity (or lack thereof) to Christian doctrines (Pasternack Reference Pasternack2015). Palmquist, however, differs from Firestone and Jacobs, for he does not seek to credentialize Kant as a traditional Christian but rather to show how well the pure rational system of religion accommodates the historical vehicle of Christianity.

Returning to the meat of the Comprehensive Commentary, its contents, at least for the most part, do not engage in the sort of heavy-handed, agenda-driven exegeses proffered by both the Christianizing extreme of the ‘affirmative’ school of interpretation, as well as those secular readings which treat the Religion as a fictionalist account of our moral ideals in ‘imaginatively enhanced or pictorial form’ (DiCenso Reference Di Censo2012: 28). Nevertheless, there are places where Palmquist’s commitments inform his reading of important passages and serve as occasions where the commentary becomes more partisan. Let me offer two examples.

First, when discussing the Third Difficulty of Part Two of the Religion (the issue of how we may discharge the ‘infinite debt of sin’), Palmquist provides a lengthy critique of various alternative readings. What we find Palmquist mainly striving to show is that ‘[t]he whole point of Kant’s “deduction” in subsection C is to establish … that the Christian story could be true’ (p. 205). He thus opposes the common view that Kant denies vicarious atonement, proffering instead what he calls a ‘“supersensible” solution’ symbolized or perhaps even recounted by ‘the Christian account of Jesus’ (p. 207). Unfortunately, likely not wanting to put his own religious cards on the table, this is one regrettable instance where the Comprehensive Commentary falls short, for it is not made clear what this ‘supersensible solution’ is. The closest Palmquist comes to disclosing what he means is when he presents the agent, while undergoing the spontaneous ‘change of heart’, as punished ‘all in a flash’ (p. 207). But this is neither vicarious nor does it address the heart of the Third Difficulty itself: the infinite debt. Simply put, either the infinity needs to go or the vicariousness. Since Kant himself asserts that the debt of sin ‘cannot be erased by someone else. For it is not a transmissible liability’ (6: 72), I think the answer is clear. Lest we forget, central to the Enlightenment was the liberation of philosophy from its subservience to theology. Yet, sadly, just as with Firestone and Jacobs (though thankfully without their harebrained ‘Transcendental Platonism’) Palmquist in this instance has made Kant into a wobbling handmaiden.

Second, when discussing the ethical community, Palmquist ties it to what he characterizes as ‘a distinctly religious argument for God’s existence’ (p. 262). Secular interpreters will surely be unhappy with this, since for them, Kant’s introduction of the ethical community (ethichen gemeinen Wesen) is an obvious signal that Kant – in the Religion – abandoned his earlier ‘theological conception’ of the highest good (e.g. Reath Reference Reath1988). For Palmquist, however, the ethical community serves as the vehicle for what he takes to be a ‘divine-human partnership’, one where not only belief in God is required, but the traditions of historical faith are essential, for the ethical community ‘can be undertaken by human beings only through religion … [and] in the sensible form of a church’ (6: 151; p. 381).

In light of the above, one must wonder whether Palmquist holds true to his claim in the preface that the Comprehensive Commentary does not seek to settle disputes in the secondary literature or advance a particular agenda, so much as to provide a neutral reference text. Of course, the latter may not be a realistic ideal, especially for anything that falls within the spectrum of religion. Where Palmquist does allow interpretative preferences to shape his commentary, readers will nevertheless not be left without some indication of alternatives. In fact, in the preface, he lists his main interlocutors (Bohatec Reference Bohatec1938; DiCenso Reference Di Censo2012; Firestone/Jacobs Reference Firestone and Jacobs2008; Pasternack Reference Pasternack2014), and thus, as the Comprehensive Commentary works through the many interpretative controversies, Palmquist duly considers a fair sampling of differing views.

Further, it can hardly be expected from the 300,000+ words that comprise the Comprehensive Commentary that Palmquist never advocates for one or another view within the spectrum of interpretative disputes. These often appear in relation to the so-called ‘conundrums’ that peppered scholarship on Kant’s philosophy of religion through the 1980s and 1990s. However, as Palmquist rightly notes, most of the criticisms waged against Kant by the Christian philosophers of those decades have been amply addressed and (at least from the perspective of many working in the area) solidly rebutted through subsequent literature.

So while Palmquist does engage with these ‘conundrums’, it would be a disservice by those with more religious than philosophical interests to use these specific points of debate as if they were a litmus test of the Comprehensive Commentary’s overall merits. Likewise, it would be a disservice by those who prefer a secular reading of Kant to dismiss this work because it is grounded in an ‘affirmative’ reading. In his preface, Palmquist asserts that it is time for scholarship on Kant to move forward. Far too often, we remain entangled within poor interpretations and misplaced objections. Far too often, we substitute for the best work on Kant the work of the best known. And at least among the vocal but marginal group who promote the Christianization of Kant, they far too often fail to differentiate between religious heresy and philosophical error.

We philosophers, especially those of us who specialize in a historical figure, have trouble finding ways forward. Palmquist’s commentary does not quite offer such a way – but it does help make possible a new level of textual scholarship. While his commentary is not going to settle the ongoing philosophical and interpretative disputes (for hardly does this ever happen), it is nonetheless an extraordinary resource for those committed to careful study of the Religion. In this spirit, Palmquist offers his Comprehensive Commentary to us as the beginning of a ‘fourth wave’ of scholarship. This is not so much a declaration of self-importance as it is a challenge to us. Let us see if we can meet it.