Messiaen’s music is rhythmically and harmonically complex. It reflects, as he affirmed, the miraculous beauty of God’s Creation. By the early 1940s, he had developed a musical language of religious symbolism comprising a variety of components. The building blocks on which this language is based and the contents their inventor intended them to represent were clearly defined, and hardly changed in the course of the composer’s long life. This article gives an overview of this symbolism and discusses the prevalent devices Messiaen used, along with the religious concepts informing each of them.

Messiaen was inspired by a pantheon of saints and theologians that were important to him: Francis of Assisi, Teresa of Ávila, John of the Cross, Catherine of Siena, and Thérèse de Lisieux, and then Ernest Hello, Dom. Columba Marmion, Romano Guardini, and Hans Urs von Balthasar. This chapter focusses in particular on St Thomas Aquinas, whose work exerted the greatest influence on Messiaen’s understanding of Christian doctrine. It examines the way this shaped his language, and assesses the range of the symbolic manifestations of Aquinas’s thought in his art.

Although it is a truism of understanding Messiaen to assert that Roman Catholicism was profoundly important to him and his music, it can be difficult to understand what this actually means in the face of two millennia of the church’s unfolding history with its countless controversies between theological schools, monastic orders, and religious politics. This chapter explores how Messiaen’s musical theology was colored by the remarkable legacy of St. Francis of Assisi. While attending to ways that Messiaen’s towering achievement, the opera Saint François d’Assise, expresses the Franciscan spirit, it also asserts that the Franciscan influence can also be discerned in Messiaen’s representational subject matter (particularly his bird style and his several works on the Nativity of Jesus), as well as in his focus on color, joy, and an unsettling inclusivity.

This chapter reads Hamlet in the light of debates in early modern animal studies, arguing that it is a play that responds to contemporary religious and philosophical questions about the distinction between humans and animals in its representation of flesh and of death. In particular, it focuses on ideas about the difference between human and animal death, and sees in Hamlet a challenge to the assumption of human immortality, reading human fleshiness – our edibility – as lying at the core of the play’s contemplations. In what is often regarded as Shakespeare’s key exploration of “the human,” the chapter argues that what can be found is a conception of our species that offers a challenge to the anthropocentrism of the early modern period, but also of our own.

Chapter two presents the views of the prominent Sunni scholar ʿAbd al-Malik al-Juwaynī (d. 478/1085) in his Succour of Nations Amidst the Confusion of Darkness (Ghiyāth al-umam fī iltiyāth al-ẓulam). If early Sunni theologians conceived of the imamate in theological terms that strictly adhered to precedence, while later jurists understood the office in pragmatic and legal terms, then al-Juwaynī was a representative of the latter approach. Unlike many of his predecessors, al-Juwaynī came to terms with the termination of the ideal early caliphate. He endeavoured to provide a political theory that accommodated rulers who met the minimum requirements of Islamic law. A key thesis of al-Juwaynī is that jurists are essential to the governing process and that without them, a state would fail, thus, he posits the ruler’s consultation of jurists as a key source of his legitimacy. Furthermore, al-Juwaynī rejects the claim that a legitimate ruler must possess many of the ideal qualities associated with the early caliphs in Islamic history.

One of the most enduring sources of conflict among Muslims is the question of who or what represents legitimate power and authority after the Prophet Muhammad. This introduction briefly examines the diverse answers that key representatives of the classical Islamic tradition offered to this controversial question. A concise overview of early Islamic political history is followed by a survey of Islamic thought on the subject of authority in the formative (seventh-ninth centuries) and classical periods (ninth-thirteenth centuries). This introduction presents the views of six major theological schools of the classical period: Ashʿarism (representative of Sunnism), Muʿtazilism, Ibadism, Twelver Shiʿism, Ismaʿilism, and Zaydism. Finally, this chapter discusses the classical Arabic texts that appear in English translation in this anthology as well as their respective themes, authors, and historical contexts.

Chapter one presents the views of the Sunni scholar Muḥammad b. al-Ḥasan b. Fūrak (d. 406/1015) in his Précis of the Doctrines of Abū ’l-Ḥasan al-Ashʿarī (Mujarrad maqālāt Abī ’l-Ḥasan al-Ashʿarī). In this work, Ibn Fūrak discusses the teachings of the famous Sunni theologian, Abū ’l-Ḥasan al-Ashʿarī (d. 324/935−6), and quotes him directly from writings that are not extant. The Précis provides a brief overview of traditional Sunni views on the imamate. Ibn Fūrak and al-Ashʿarī interpret the history of succession after the Prophet Muhammad in a way that is charitable to the Companions and downplays the conflicts among them. This approach reflects the Sunni view of the first four caliphs as individuals who possessed all of the requisite qualities of an ideal ruler.

Chapter seven presents the views of a prominent leader of the Mustaʿlī Ṭayyibī branch of the Ismaʿili community, al-Dāʿī ʿAlī b. Muḥammad b. al-Walīd (d. 612/1215). Ibn al-Walīd was a prolific writer who authored several works on philosophy, theology, poetry, and commentary on the Qurʾān. He concisely explains key Islamic doctrines (monotheism, prophethood, the Hereafter, etc.) according to the Mustaʿlī Ṭayyibī tradition in his theological work, The Crown of Doctrines and the Mine of Instructive Points (Tāj al-ʿaqāʾid wa-maʿdin al-fawāʾid). The doctrines he supports in his chapter on the imamate largely correspond with those that appear in Twelver Shiʿi literature. He argues against the right of members of the community to choose their imams and endorses the need for their appointment by means of divine designation (naṣṣ). He believes in the perpetual necessity of the office and asserts that the nonexistence of a divinely designated imam is impossible; the imam is God’s living proof (ḥujja). The Ismaʿilis maintained that God’s proof played an essential role in humans’ acquisition of any knowledge relating to God or matters pertaining to religion that God desired humanity to know.

Chapter three presents the views of the prominent Zaydī scholar al-Nāṭiq bi-’l-Ḥaqq Abū Ṭālib al-Hārūnī (d. 424/1033) in his Theoretical Underpinning of the Imamate (al-Diʿāma fi tathbīt al-imāma). Al-Nāṭiq draws on key Muʿtazili concepts and technical terms to propound a comprehensive argument in defence of the Zaydi conception of the imamate while refuting the doctrines of his Muʿtazili, Sunni, and Twelver Shiʿi peers. Against the Twelvers, al-Nāṭiq sought to refute three assumptions: the rational necessity of the imamate, the necessity of infallibility, and the necessity of divine designation (naṣṣ). He was intimately familiar with Twelver doctrines because his father and larger family identified as Twelvers. Al-Nāṭiq’s Theoretical Underpinning became as a seminal work on the Zaydi imamate.

Chapter five presents the views of the prominent Muʿtazili scholar Rukn al-Dīn Ibn al-Malāḥimī (d. 536/1141) in his Book of Excellence on the Fundamental Principles of Religion (Kitāb al-Fāʾiq fī uṣūl al-dīn). The Book of Excellence, which is extant in full, is a summary of his larger work, a comprehensive theological summa entitled The Reliable Book on the Fundamental Principles of Religion (al-Muʿtamad fī uṣūl al-dīn), of which only parts survive. The Book of Excellence is an important source for contemporary researchers since it is one of the last available texts from the Sunni Muʿtazili tradition, which disappeared by the end of the classical period in the seventh/thirteenth century. Ibn al-Malāḥimī’s chapter on the imamate, in particular, represents this tradition’s views up until the sixth/twelfth century. It justifies the Muslim community’s right to select its own leaders and affirms the legitimacy of the first four caliphs. Ibn al-Malāḥimī also defends ʿAli’s character against accusations of wrongdoing, while refuting Imami doctrines about his designation (naṣṣ) and infallibility.

Chapter six presents the views of the Ibāḍī scholar Abū ʿAmmār ʿAbd al-Kāfī b. Yūsuf al-Warjalānī (d. ca. 570/1174) in his Concise Book (al-Mūjaz). In this work, al-Warjalānī defends those doctrines that he considers to be correct and refutes the views of rival religious traditions, both Muslim and non-Muslim. His chapter on the imamate provides a broad overview of Khārijī and Ibāḍī views on the qualities of a legitimate imam. The function of the imam is to aid the community in commanding right, forbidding wrong, establishing justice, and administering ḥudūd (fixed, nondiscretionary penalties). The Khārijī-Ibāḍī tradition is unique in outlining a procedure for the removal of an imam. If an imam violates a divine commandment, he should be compelled to seek repentance. Repeat offenses or a refusal to repent are grounds for disqualification and removal from office. If an imam refuses to give up his authority, he is to be fought until he is dislodged from power or killed. For the Ibāḍīs, cancelling the authority of an imam to restart the selection process and appoint another is considered a legitimate procedure. When the Ibāḍīs do not have the ability to appoint imams, their doctrine permits them to dissimulate and live peacefully among non-Ibāḍī Muslims.

Chapter four presents the views of the prominent Twelver Shiʿi scholar Muḥammad b. al-Ḥasan al-Ṭūsī (d. 460/1067). Like other Zaydis and Twelver Shiʿis of his era, al-Ṭūsī incorporated Muʿtazili doctrines into his writings on theology. His seminal work on the imamate is an abridgment of The Curative Book (al-Shāfī) by al-Sharīf al-Murtaḍā (d. 436/1044). Al-Ṭūsī’s work was similarly entitled The Curative Book on the Imamate: A Paraphrastic Rendering (Talkhīṣ al-Shāfī fī al-imāma) and reflected his own understanding of the text. Both al-Murtaḍā and al-Ṭūsī ground the Twelver conception of the imamate in Bahshamī Muʿtazili theology to argue for the rational necessity of the imamate and its necessity according to the Qurʾan and hadith. They accomplish the former by tying the existence of imams to the existence of moral obligations (taklīf) in the sight of God. As long as moral obligations exist, humans need imams who function as a type of divine assistance (luṭf).

Scholars in late-antique Western Christendom relied both on ‘scientific’ knowledge and on theological interpretation of scripture to understand and explain the natural world. Previous scholarship discussing the process of seeking knowledge in general, and the investigation of science and theology in particular, has often centred on the issues of innovation and derivativeness. For centuries, following ideas developed during the Renaissance and ‘Enlightenment’, it was held that the fall of the Western Roman empire heralded a ‘Dark Age’ in which there was little intellectual development and scholarship was almost entirely derivative. More recently, scholars have argued instead that there was innovation in this period, at least to some degree. This chapter offers a preliminary examination of the methods and processes of inquiry used by late-antique scholars in their attempts to uncover knowledge, focusing on the topic of creation.

This seeks to summarise the conclusions of the book, asserting and defending Laudianism’s status as a coherent, distinctive and aggressive ideological position, and as a coalition made up of persons of varying views and degrees of commitment, and as such a set of responses to a dynamic and changing set of political circumstances. The methodological approach of the book is defended and the compatibility of the lumping, which underpinned the first four part with the splitting that characterised the fifth, is asserted. In its second half the Conclusion looks forward to the larger significance of Laudianism for the history of ‘Anglicanism’ and ends with an account of the Tractarian use of Laudianism and the ways in which the legacy of the Tractarians has, in turn, shaped the subsequent historiography of Laudianism. The attempt here, as in the book as a whole, is to free the topic from the ongoing quarrels about the historical identity and theological and pietistic essence of the church of England, so that it can be understood in terms of the period during which it first came into existence, and which it tried (so ardently and unsuccessfully) to transform.

This essay seeks in Tracy an account of dialogue as the first hope of post-war forgiveness and reconciliation, for the author’s own troubled setting of post-civil war Croatia. Despite Tracy not having written on reconciliation after conflict, ‘a Tracyean route to the hope of dialogue’ takes shape here via Tracyean emphases on ‘history’, ‘tragedy’, and ‘fragments’. Dialogue becomes theological here not solely on account of religious contexts widely present in Croatia, but also, after Tracy, whenever dialogue approaches its proper goals and reach. In ‘a practical-historical context of despair and violence’, recent works by Tracy helps by: (1) highlighting the value of a tragic sensibility within culture and Christianity; and (2) proposing hope around strong fragments (or ‘frag-events’). In an innovative application of Tracy, some of the most powerful Croatian fragments are those ordinary inhabitants whose lives are witness to the country’s collective failures in addressing ongoing experiences of extraordinary injustice and suffering. It is to them that dialogue must be exposed if Croatian society is to open itself towards a divine Infinity of hope and forgiveness.

This essay takes up David Tracy’s adjective ‘mystical-prophetic’ amid racialised North America. Since 1990 Tracy has employed the category to indicate the way concrete theological expression brings together the mystical-aesthetic-contemplative (and apophatic) and the prophetic-ethical-political (and apocalyptic) in tensive conjunction. Emphasising the hyphen, this essay applies Tracy’s term to hip-hop, elucidating the tension between hip-hop’s early overtly political character– ‘the sudden eruption of black and brown voices on to the stage of American life, a rumbling and riotous explosion of sound and self-expression’– and its later characteristically aestheticised (and commercialised) pleasures as primarily ‘renegade music, dance and art’. Those drawn to the politics may not rush past hip-hop’s multilayered artistic and participative exhilarations. Examining Childish Gambino’s powerful 2018 song and music video ‘This is America’, the author finds Tracy’s category relevant and applicable beyond religion narrowly defined, proposing ‘street theology’ as a form of public theology that emerges here as the genius of hip-hop is interpreted sympathetically as mystical-prophetic.

This essay introduces and explores David Tracy’s notion of ‘analogical imagination’ as something that prevents reason, theology, and social life from collapsing ‘into equivocation or else hopeless stupid conflict’. A capacious reflective reason, after Tracy, depends on imaginative habits and sensibilities that stay faithful to the discordant plurality and ambiguity of things while also acknowledging their analogies or ‘similarities-in-difference’. The essay argues that the continuing integrity and scope of Tracyean analogical imagination depends upon understanding that the negations that belong to apparently contrasting ‘dialectical imaginations’ reach ‘all the way down’ within analogical imagination itself. Aided by classic expressions of culture, furthermore, analogical imaginative possibility shades into contingent vision when organised by ‘focal meanings’ to fashion some global sense of the world. This is then brought into dialogue with Richard Kearney’s comparatively recent notion of ‘anatheism’, to help consideration of how Tracyean analogical imagination might maintain its imagination and ana- at the perilous point that it becomes also a matter of religious believing.

Tracy’s theology has often been well received in African contexts for its hermeneutical openness, but difficult distances remain between Tracy’s post-modern framing of theology and post-colonial imperatives. Tinyiko Sam Maluleke criticises universalising gestures in historic Christian theology, repeated in recent ‘public theology’, that efface the kinds of differences in power that follow from colonial domination. Few who abide in entrenched traditions of subjugation, Afro-pessimism, and Western supremacism will be willing, ready, or able to re-evaluate sufficiently their readings of ‘the classics’– despite Tracy’s hopes for such hermeneutical events. And yet, Tracy’s subsequent work: (1) parses classics as ‘frag-events … that shatter, negate, and fragment all totality systems … including Christendom’; and (2) emphasises the dialectical and apophatic seriousness of his commitment to thinking analogically. Perhaps Tracy could be received outside the limiting frame of Western post-modernity, in support of decolonising exchanges between subjugated African theological experience, on the one hand, and historically privileged perceptions stained by colonialism, on the other.

This article discusses David Tracy’s implicit and explicit reflection on the church as a community of Christian praxis. The church is both a social and a theological reality, just like its theological partner-reality ‘the world’. This means that no concrete expression of the Christian church may pronounce itself wholly or uniquely adequate to its theological field; neither can any boundary between ‘church’ and ‘world’ be rendered theologically determinate or fundamental. So Tracy’s thinking focuses on the centre of the church, not on its boundaries. As gift and sacrament, the church participates in God’s grace as disclosed in God’s self-manifestation in Jesus Christ. In bearing witness to this event, the church’s critical and self-critical praxis of love is borne upon mystical-prophetic discourses and dialogues with otherness without and within. Ecclesiology, therefore, emerges only in fragments and not as a closed system. Tracy’s ecclesiology is everywhere a function of an account of God and reality. A Christian church that learns a Tracyean route to naming God aspires actively, contemplatively, and fragmentarily to realise itself in answering fashion as an ‘institution of love’.