Jacques Dupuis (1923–2004) was the well-known author of Towards a Christian Theology of Religious Pluralism (1997). There was a process against him by the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith (CDF) of the Vatican from 1998 to 2001. But in a way the process was not really over until his death on December 28, 2004. A second process had just then started. The manuscript of the conversations between 2002 and 2004 was approved by him just two days before his death, when he fell and hit his head on a table in the dining room. The Conversations make up the first three chapters of the book. After a brief story of his life, Dupuis narrates his encounter with the CDF in response to the skillful questioning of O'Connell. The third chapter deals with the aftermath, when he continued to be under suspicion until a second process was announced just before his death. The final chapter consists of a paper of Dupuis’ that had remained unpublished: “The Theology of Religious Pluralism Revisited: A Provisional Balance Sheet.” This is an excellent and informative book.

Dupuis was born in Belgium, joined the Jesuits, and opted to go to India, where he became a professor of Christology. After a couple of courses on Christology for the master's students in the Gregorian, Rome, he was transferred, unwillingly, to Rome in 1984. He became a very popular professor and wrote the book Towards, … on request, and it was published simultaneously in five languages. Dupuis’ main thesis is that Jesus Christ is the only savior of humans, known and operative as Jesus in the church, present as the Word also in other religions and operative through other symbols. Such a positive appreciation of the religions was not acceptable to the CDF at that time, though Pope John Paul II had written about the presence and action of the Spirit in other religions in The Mission of the Redeemer (1990). So the CDF started a process to examine Dupuis's book. The way that this process was conducted is strange.

We are grateful to Dupuis and O'Connell for the detailed account of the process. The CDF holds that Jesus Christ is the only savior. He saves only those who know and acknowledge him. The other religions are not legitimate. The CDF had published this view in Dominus Iesus (the Lord Jesus) in 2000. It was trying to get Dupuis to subscribe to it. When Dupuis refused, he was condemned for theological “errors,” which were later toned down to “ambiguities,” but with no references to his book. He was obliged to sign his own condemnation as a sign of acceptance. The CDF felt free to add a paragraph to it later without his knowledge and approval. The secretive and unjust way in which the process was conducted is shocking. Dupuis was never told who his accusers were. He was sent some questions. When he sent a reply of 188 pages, Cardinal Ratzinger confessed that it was too long for them to read. Such was the dialogue. One wonders whether Cardinal Ratzinger and the pope himself were aware of what they were signing. What they wanted was not discussion but quiet submission. If one was not ready for it, then one was condemned in some way. Besides disagreement we see very human factors such as rivalry and jealousy at play. A policy of secrecy makes any open discussion impossible.

Though he is appreciated and supported across the world, among his own community of professors in the Gregorian, a few are quietly supportive, a few against, and the majority unconcerned. He was not allowed to publish four of his final papers to protect the name of the university. Fr. Peter-Hans Kolvenbach, his superior general, and one of the superiors in the Gregorian were supportive and managed to protect his freedom to speak and write. Many theologians, the Indian bishops, Cardinal Franz Koenig of Austria, and Jesuit superiors in India were openly supportive. Dupuis suffered a lot by the sense of rejection by the church that he tried to serve loyally.