Revelation and love

Introduction

‘Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love’ (1 John 4:8). In this article, I argue that the first letter of John provides a way in which the dynamic of divine revelation, especially special revelation, can be understood – namely that love on the part of human beings, made real in continuous action, is a necessary response to the revealed presence of God. By special revelation I understand divine self-revelation by other than natural means, including through the history of Israel, the life of Christ, the Apostolic experience as recalled and interpreted in tradition and scripture – as opposed to general or universal revelation (God's revelation through natural means to all peoples).

The pre-Vatican II approach to revelation assumed that it was primarily propositional. As such, it was aimed at achieving a particular intellectual understanding of God on the part of those to whom it was imparted. At Vatican II, a broader understanding emerged of revelation as personal, in the sense of creating a special individual relationship between God and the believer. While both of these approaches contain elements of truth, I suggest that neither paints a complete picture. Instead, the function of revelation, which is indeed personal and which may convey specific information, is to call forth an ongoing ethical response – the love of God and the other – which love is to be reflected in action on the part of those to whom it is directed. This is not to reduce Christianity (or Judaism, for that matter) from a personal relationship with God to a religion of ethical precepts. On the contrary, my point is that, because divine revelation ‘effects what it signifies’, ¹ the love of God, a love which is the subject of revelation of its nature enkindles love within the recipient which is, in turn, externally reflected in continuing ethical conduct towards God and neighbour (understanding ‘ethics’ in this sense as the normative aspect of love – love put into practice in words and conduct). As Ignatius of Loyola puts it, ‘[L]ove ought to find its expression in deeds, rather than words…the lover gives and communicates to the loved one what they have.’ ²

In what follows, with reference to both Old and New Testaments, I shall attempt to demonstrate this dynamic of revelation enkindling a mutuality of love leading to expression in action. I shall first show how the idea of ongoing ethical response grounded in love is clearly visible in the Torah, where the link between revelation and love in action is often made obvious by the direct appearance of God coupled with an ethical response on the part of the one to whom God appears, and where the narrative of covenant and Torah is understood to continue the work begun at the creation. This dynamic of continuing loving response is, I will argue, also visible in the prophets and other writings where statements about God are closely linked with the responses that such statements demand of their hearers. This dynamic is, I will show, then made even more apparent in the narratives of the life of Christ and writings exegeting it in the New Testament. Finally, I shall briefly survey the possible implications of this understanding of special revelation (as love calling forth a continuous loving response in action) on other branches of fundamental theology, including the understanding of the tradition and the nature and role of the church, general revelation and the related understanding of the status of Christianity vis-à-vis other religions in the economy of salvation.

Love and revelation in the Torah

At least since Vatican II, scriptural revelation has been understood, not only as propositional – revealing items of knowledge about God – but also, and even more, as God's loving self-communication which effects transformative results in those who receive it. ³ The Torah also demonstrates that this transformation includes a response of love for both God and others, lived out in practical action.

It is true that the language of love is not always explicitly associated with theophany in the Torah. Nevertheless, as Anne Knafl points out, God is anthropomorphized as a sympathetic authority figure throughout – most commonly under the types of king, parent and as warrior (defending Israel). ⁴ All of these types evoke ongoing relationships (rulership, familial love and guardianship). Consistently with this understanding of God in such a relationship with Israel, theophanies in the Torah not only introduce a one-off solution to an otherwise insoluble problem of their recipient(s), but also usually result in a commission, an instruction to behave in a certain way or to refrain from certain conduct or a spontaneous action reflecting the effect of the theophany and evidencing continuing gratitude to, and reliance on, God. Thus, the appearances to Abraham and the call of Moses not only reveal God's presence and concern for the plight of the hearers (e.g. Abraham's childlessness in Genesis 13, 15 and 17, Israel's bondage in Exodus 3:7) but also demand or result in continuing action on the part of the recipients in response to God's revelation (whether that be simple faith or trust, as in Genesis 15:6 or something more substantial, like altar-building (Genesis 13:18), covenant (Gen 15 and 17) or representation of Israel and the placing of God's demands before Pharaoh (Ex 3:10). ⁵

This dynamic is most obvious in the case of the Sinai covenant texts which form the core of the Torah. These parallel the call of Moses and their form closely follows the pattern of second-millennium Hittite suzerainty treaties (which themselves regulated ongoing and continuous relationships): they recall God's favour and demand an ethical response, not by way of the counter-performance of a party to a contract (the parties are not equals) but of obedience in a spirit of gratitude for the mercy of God (shown by the deliverance of the people). ⁶ On the other hand, that this is a relationship understood early on as being one of genuine love between God and Israel, rather than mere vassalage (as in the Hittite treaties), is often expressly stated in the text (e.g. Ex 13:15; Ex 34:6–7; Num. 14:18; Deut. 5:10; 7:8; 10:15). It is also made abundantly clear in practice, given that, right from the start, the relationship is continually being breached from the human side and then restored by the gracious action of God. ⁷ Indeed, as Stephen Sherwood notes, one of the key contributions of Leviticus to the Torah is that, in setting out the means by which sin can be forgiven, it enables a relationship between a holy God and a sinful people to continue and, in so doing, contains an accompanying demand to the people to live this relationship by fulfilling the Torah. ⁸

At the same time, commentators ancient and modern have understood the giving of the Mosaic covenant on Sinai to deepen a continuous relationship between God and Israel begun with creation, noting both the parallels in the theophany and the idea of the Torah and its observance as that which allows for the ongoing existence of the world. By the second century bce, the Book of Jubilees already makes this association, understanding the fact that the Torah was written in Hebrew, the language of creation, as conditioning its contents (Jub 12:25–27). ⁹ Genesis Rabbah (written around 400 ce) describes the Torah as the divine and pre-existing blueprint of creation, like an architect's plans. ¹⁰ The Babylonian Talmud, from around two centuries later, draws out the ethical consequence of this understanding, describing continuing obedience to the Torah as a divinely set precondition for the ongoing preservation of the order and the very existence of the world. ¹¹ This understanding is not only suggested by the literary presentation of the Torah (especially the Decalogue) as echoing the words spoken at creation, ¹² but is also reinforced by the fact that disobedience is linked by the prophets with degradation of the land, particularly by Jeremiah (e.g. Jer 4:23–28; 33:25). ¹³

Other parts of the Torah, too, confirm that the people's covenant with God revealed on Sinai is a matter of continual and deepening love and obedience in response to God's love and command, rather than a system of case-by-case propitiation or magical invocation. While it is well known that the Pentateuch had multiple editors over an extended timespan (even if the traditional sources theory is no longer regarded as adequate), the story which emerges from the stories of the Patriarchs and Moses has long been recognized as being one of dynamic and developing relationship between Israel and its God. ¹⁴ As Dale Patrick says, ‘Commandments seem to be irresistibly drawn towards God as speaker…’ and anchor the ‘personal obligation for obedience in an enduring relationship.’ ¹⁵ That the Torah's vision of divine revelation is one which requires ongoing responsiveness was apprehended by the Cappadocian Father, Gregory of Nyissa, in his scholium on Ex.33:20 – while God does not kill, those who think they have a complete vision of God have in fact strayed and become prisoners of their own sense-perception, in other words, died to the possibility of the eternal. ¹⁶ ‘This truly is the vision of God: never to be satisfied in the desire to see him. But one must always, by looking at what he can see, be rekindled in the desire to see more.’ ¹⁷ Indeed, as Norbert Lohfink notes, the ‘little Credo’ of Deut. 26:5–9 demonstrates an understanding within the text of the Torah itself of the whole history of Israel recounted there, as being one great and ongoing act of divine intervention in response to human need. ¹⁸ As in the case of the individual revelations discussed above, the ‘credo’ is neither a mere profession of propositional faith nor a mere acknowledgement of history, but instead moves the believer to continue making a response (to this unfolding act of divine intervention): a response symbolized and embodied in offering the first fruits (v.10).

‘Come back to me’ – Love and prophecy

What is true of the relationship forged in Torah is equally true of that revealed through the prophets: divine revelation creates a continuing relationship of love with God's people which demands an ongoing ethical response from those to whom that revelation is directed. Indeed, in keeping with the understanding proposed here of theophany as gateway to loving relationship and response which continues the relationship begun with creation, the Pentateuch itself appears to envisage prophecy as a continuation of the revelation of Sinai (Dt. 18:15–19). ¹⁹ The complaints of the prophets, in turn (whether pre- or post-Exilic), are not of a lack of obedience in the abstract nor do they profess some new theophany independent of an existing relationship. They are, instead, concerned with the observance of the Torah and the continuing maintenance of the loving relationship which it has established between God and God's people (see e.g. Is. 24:5; 42:24; Jer 2:8; 31:33; Ezek. 43:12; Dan 9:11; Hos 4:6; Am 2:4; Hab 1:4). ²⁰ While, in contrast to theophanies in the Pentateuch, the narratives of theophanies coming to the prophets are often so truncated as to give very little clue as to how they themselves perceived the in-breaking of the divine, it is clear that the God revealed to them and whom they, in turn, reveal to the people is still ‘a loving and tenderly devoted God’. ²¹

Prophetic warnings and promises as particular subsets of prophetic revelation must be understood in this context of a relationship of overarching divine love and the people's response (or failure to respond) to that love. Thus, although the prophets often have occasion to preach or threaten destruction (witness Jeremiah and Amos), this is not done capriciously or out of spite, rather prophetic rhetoric portrays evil consequences visited upon Israel or Judah as being the consequences of repeated failure to take seriously the loving, ethical dimensions implied in the people's pre-existing relationship with God by acting in accordance with the Covenant's demands (see e.g. Is. 24:5; 42:24; Jer 42:23; Hos. 4.6; Zech 7:12; Am 2:4). The same is true of prophetic promises (including eschatological promise such as that in Is 11:9; 65:25; Ezek. 37; Dan 7:13–14; 27–28)). The loving adherence to the covenant, promises a loving God's reward both to Israel as a nation and to individuals. ²² As Marvin Sweeney puts it, ‘both [Christian and Jewish] traditions understand the prophets as representatives of G-d, who articulate Divine expectations’, for both Israel/Judah and humanity in general, ‘in relation to the past, present and future of the world of creation’. ²³

Antony Campbell argues that the paradigmatic structure of a prophetic utterance is an accusation or censure coupled with a warning or threat. ²⁴ Nevertheless, as he also notes, restoration – again as the free action of a loving God in relation with God's people – is also a key feature of many prophetic announcements (especially those of Hosea, Ezekiel, Jeremiah and Deutero-Isaiah). ²⁵ Where the warnings or threats include a demand, this is most often that the people repent (see e.g. Is. 1:27; Jer 3:12–18; Am 4:11; Hos 2:5–6; Joel 2, Mic 5:3). ²⁶

The prophetic understanding of ‘repentance’ is itself highly relational. The Hebrew word shuv literally means ‘return’, and it is often coupled with the image of the return of an unfaithful spouse: the first five chapters of the book of Hosea are an extended exploration of this metaphor of adultery and unfaithfulness. ²⁷ Where there is a warning of punishment, the prophets make it clear that God takes no delight in inflicting harm on Israel – rather there is the sense of a parent who takes pain in what is to be done but has run out of options (eg. Hos 5:4; Jer 45:4). ²⁸ The modern reader, of course, need not accept this view of God as the initiator of punishment, but it nevertheless powerfully reveals the prophetic understanding that even when God intervenes against God's people, God remains a God of love. ²⁹

Again, the fact that there is not one prophet, but rather a succession of them (both institutional and otherwise and spread over a long period of Israel and Judah's history) itself speaks to an understanding of the prophetic role as guardian of a continuous relationship between the people and their God. The maintenance and strengthening of the ongoing loving, and hence ethical, relationship between God and Israel therefore lies at the heart of a prophet's understanding of their mission.

Seen through this prism of ethical relationship, it is unsurprising that it is precisely where people purport to be maintaining a relationship with God (for example by offering sacrifices) but are in fact using the forms of relationship (such as liturgy or law) to seek to avoid a deeper engagement with God and the covenant, and thus failing to act in love of God and/or neighbour, that the revelations of divine denunciation through the prophets are at their most fierce. Even those who would discount the idea that the prophets were divinely inspired acknowledge that critique of social practice, grounded in theology, lies at the core of their identity. ³⁰ Amos (2:6–8; 3:1–10 and 5:1–10), Isaiah (e.g. 1:11–12), Deutero-Isaiah (43:24), Third Isaiah (66:3), Jeremiah (6–7), and Micah (6:6–8) all, in various ways, deliver the message paradigmatically summed up by Hosea 6:6, ‘I desire steadfast love and not sacrifice, the knowledge of God and not burned offerings.’ Reinforcing the understanding of revelation as producing a loving and ethical relationship with God and neighbour, these denunciations not only condemn de facto neglect of God, but also understand God's due as bound up with mercy for the other, especially the poor and the vulnerable (e.g. Is 3:15; 10:2; 41:17; 58:7; Jer 2:34; Ezek. 22:29; Amos 4:1; 5:11; 8:6; Zech 7:10).

Sometimes, as in Ezek. 18:12, abuse of the poor and the stranger is explicitly compared with idolatry as a repudiation of the relationship with God, ³¹ This adds further weight to the contention that, in the prophetic worldview, love of God manifested in ethical conduct towards God is inextricably linked with love and ethical treatment of the other. Indeed, that the dispensing of justice is an important part of a prophet's role is seen outside the standard ‘prophetic’ books (e.g. in the role of Deborah in Judges – Jd 4:1–5). ³² As Vincent Branick notes, the prophets demand justice, but it is a justice which, while grounded in the history of the people who hear the oracles, is primarily founded in love and points beyond the contingencies of history to the mystery of a faithful God who is always doing something new for his people. ³³

‘The Lord loves justice’: Other Old Testament writings

The Torah and the prophets form, by volume at least, the principal streams of revelation in the Old Testament (and, as we have seen, are closely interconnected). As Cardinal Avery Dulles notes, this is not to say that other, less voluminous literature should be relegated to a secondary role as a result: Sirach, as he points out, ranks wisdom even higher than prophecy. ³⁴ Space here is too limited to discuss this diverse canon in detail. Nevertheless, these other writings, albeit including multiple genres (such as Psalms, Proverbs and other Wisdom literature and historical or pseudo-historical works), suggest that the understanding of divine revelation as grounded in ongoing loving relationship, proclaimed in the Torah and confirmed in prophecy, suffuses Old Testament revelatory understanding more generally.

By way of representative example, Pss 5:7; 11:7; 25:10; 33:5; 37:28; 85:10; 89:14; Prov 3:12; 15:9; 2 Chr 7:3; Ezra 3:11; Neh 9:17; Wis 8:7; 11:26; Sir 2:16 and Bar 3:36 all demonstrate the understanding of God as both revealed in love and faithfulness and calling forth an ethical response in the form of justice and love. The book of Job, similarly, is an extended scholium on how this faith in the love of God is to be maintained in the face of disaster, injustice and further evil. James Dunn, taking up a theme which we have already explored in relation to Torah, says of the Wisdom literature (and with particular reference to Psalms and Proverbs) that, ‘the wisdom thus expressed reveals (unveils) the moral character of the personal and social structure of God's creation’, and notes that no clear distinction is drawn between humanly discovered wisdom and that which has been divinely revealed. ³⁵

Wisdom, whether divinely infused or humanly discovered, therefore reveals both the ethical and relational nature of the framework upon which the world was created and in which relations with God are to be enacted (a point made by Genesis Rabbah and the Talmud in relation to the Torah, as discussed above). As Gerald O'Collins notes, these conceptions of the wisdom, word and Spirit of God active in the world and the life-giving relationship enfolding God and humanity which they both allow and demand begin to hint at the tri-personal nature of divinity itself. ³⁶ The texts already cited leave no room for doubt that this life-giving relationship is one of mutual love and one which, on the part of both humans and God, is expressed in action.

‘A new commandment’: The love revealed in Christ

The Christian understanding of Christ as revealing of God's essence, while assuming the existence of the historical Jesus, is not restricted to it. Indeed, this belief that Christ himself transcends the historical to be the incarnate Word of God, and thus in a sense displaces the scriptures as divine word, is the point at which Christian, Jewish and Muslim understandings of the divine self-revelation, although united in their monotheism and belief in an historical God who is both immanent and transcendent, part company. ³⁷ While the way to best describe the nature of Christ and its expression of God gave rise to centuries of metaphysical controversy in Christian circles (leading eventually to the Nicaean-Constantinopolitan Creed and the Chalcedonian settlement), this understanding of Christ as God's self-revelation is primarily relational, not ontological.

The gospels, in their narrative of the life and work of Christ, reveal that their authors saw him, in both his ministry and his death and resurrection, as being the particular way in which God could be known – see e.g. Jn 14:9. ³⁸ The sayings, miracles and other actions of Jesus blended action and word in such a way as to both manifest God's compassionate power (i.e. serve as theophanies) and simultaneously give rise to an understanding that it was Jesus who served to embody that power within himself. ³⁹ John could say, ‘God so (houtos = in this way) loved the world, that he gave his only Son’ (Jn 3:16). What we see here is a description of how God loves the world, which, as John's Jesus states, calls forth an echoing response from those whom God loves: ‘love one another, as I have loved you’ (Jn 13:34; 15:12).

The Pauline/deutero-Pauline description of Jesus as ‘the icon of the invisible God’ (Col 1:15), likewise, is founded not on some argument as to his metaphysical nature but rather on the understanding that all things were created in and through Christ. It can therefore be seen as closely coupled with the idea of creation and Torah as part of one great arc of loving divine relationship with humanity (discussed above). As O’Collins notes, for Paul, the mission of Christ is finally conceived as one in which he lovingly empties himself to enter sinful human history and hand himself over into a violent world to be revealed through the Easter events and the working of the Holy Spirit (e.g. Gal 4:4–6; Rom 5:8; 8:3). ⁴⁰ As such, rather than being a physical description, the understanding of Christ as the invisible God's icon is of a piece with the ethical assertion with which this article began, namely that ‘God is love’ (1 Jn 4:11). ⁴¹

This understanding of Christ's mission as loving self-gift, which predates even Paul himself, is set out in a hymn which he quotes to the Philippians (Phil. 2:5–11) – whence the traditional term kenosis, for this self-emptying on behalf of humanity. ⁴² As Daniel Migliore notes, the union of God with humanity in Christ which this enables and reveals is therefore seen not only as one of mutual self-surrendering love, but is also unique, asymmetrical (we are the subordinate partner) and dynamic: ‘[i]n perfect mutual love, humanity and divinity are distinct yet personally united in Jesus Christ.’ ⁴³ In this sense, it is both like the Torah (the asymmetrical, relational nature and links with creation of which have been considered above) and stands in continuity with it (a continuity expressed, for example, in Matt 5:17).

From the start, therefore, Christ has been understood as revealing himself, not as a human who also happens to be God nor vice versa, but rather as divine love made flesh. Thus Christ makes real in his own person the Torah's double love command (Deut. 6:4–5; Lev. 19:18) which all the Synoptic Gospels have him describing as lying at the heart of Christian faith (Matt 22:38–39; Mk 12:30–31; Lk 10:27 and cf. Jn 13:34 and 15:12, noted above). ⁴⁴ This understanding of Christ is reinforced by the fact that, in Matthew's telling (Matt 22:38–39), the love of neighbour is described as being ‘like’ that of God: a fact which provides further confirmation that the love of the God who is revealed to us in Christ and the scriptures cannot be divorced from the love of those made in the image of that God. This is consistent with the fact that Gen 1:26–27 has always been seen as a passage with ethical implications in the Jewish, as well as the Christian, tradition. ⁴⁵ The 6th-century desert father, Dorotheos of Gaza, beautifully described the implications of the interplay between these commands, comparing the two to the limbs of a compass: as each limb nears the centre (God), it, by that fact itself, nears the other. ⁴⁶

It is therefore unsurprising that Christ should have explicitly joined the two commands not only in his teaching but also in his person. As Pope Benedict XVI puts it, ‘[The] real novelty of the New Testament lies not so much in new ideas as in the figure of Christ himself, who gives flesh and blood to those concepts.’ ⁴⁷ Christ's very essence embodies a continuous and loving relationship between God and human beings and his true power lies in the dynamic of divine love, expressed in love of neighbour, which he models: ‘everything in him radiates justice, mercy and love’ and draws us to himself. ⁴⁸

While the doctrine of the Trinity postdates the gospels – taking several centuries to crystallize as the Christian understanding of the image of God which is revealed by both the scriptures and the person of Christ – it too has generally been understood to have its basis in Jesus' own revelation of God as love (especially in the Easter mysteries of his death and resurrection). A growing awareness followed soon after the Christ event of the divine Lordship of Father, Son and Spirit (expressed e.g. in Mark 1:11; Lk 3:22; Eph 4:6; 1 Cor 12:3; and 2 Cor 3:17). ⁴⁹ This is reinforced by the fact that the Spirit was understood by the gospel writers and Paul, not only as divine power, but also as the loving presence of God the Father in relationship with God's Son and God's people (see e.g. Lk 10:21; Jn 14:26; 15:26; 16:31; Acts 1:2; Rom 5:5; 15:30; 2 Cor 3:17; 2 Cor 13:13). ⁵⁰

Although the Trinity is a theological conundrum if expressed metaphysically, there has always been another stream of thought in which this doctrine has been approached as the quintessential unbreakable loving relationship – traditionally conceived as the Lover (the Father), the Beloved (the Son) and Love itself (the Spirit). ⁵¹ David Coffey expresses this claim by saying that the Holy Spirit, as Jesus’ love for the Father, is given primarily to the Father but ‘also embraces human beings, because of the profound unity of love of God and love of neighbour in the structure of human loving’. ⁵² As such, the Trinity is revealed as being not only about the eternal love within God but also, and inseparably from it, about the love between God and humanity and among humanity which that love enables.

The incarnation of the divine in human flesh and in the power of the Spirit marks a dramatic new theophany and an expansion of the revelation described by scripture beyond the Jewish people (an expansion which is now generally seen by Christians as being without prejudice to the existing Covenant, usually theologically analysed through the prism of Rom 11:26–35). ⁵³ Nevertheless, the love of Christ and the Trinity which he reveals therefore manifests as a continuation of the relationship with humanity begun in the creation and continued in the Torah, the Prophets and the Writings. As with the previous theophanies in special revelation, it is a love which calls forth love and practical response in the form of love and ethical conduct towards both God and neighbour.

Implications for other branches of fundamental theology

Given the centrality of special revelation to fundamental theology, if the contention made so far is correct, and special revelation displays the history of divine love in continuous relationship with humanity calling forth love in return, then this must impact on our understanding of, first, the response to that revelation and then, by extension, other areas of fundamental theology.

As we have already seen, God's revealed love demands an ethical response in love. An earlier, propositional, view of revelation attempted to set tradition up against scripture as an alternative source of revelation. Vatican II marked a radical break with this narrow view of tradition. Since the publication of Dei Verbum, tradition and scripture have been understood as parts of a single, sacred deposit of faith by which divine revelation (the Word of God) dynamically illuminates the world on an ongoing basis and is interpreted by the church with the help of the Holy Spirit. ⁵⁴ As O'Collins notes, the understanding that revelation draws us into a relationship of life and love with a personal God was fundamental to both Dei Verbum and the Faith and Order Conference in Montreal which paralleled it. ⁵⁵

In light of our conclusion that special revelation shows God as both loving and calling us to love in response, this must also entail real ethical consequences for our understanding of the tradition with which it is entwined and the church founded by the Spirit as its transmitter. If the tradition which passes on the faith of scripture is not to be simply a collection of propositions (leaving the church as a mere archivist of norms and undermining the understanding of Dei Verbum of a Spirit-filled continuity with scripture) then the church and its individual members must – guided by the Spirit – enter into the relationship with God in Christ which scripture presupposes and lovingly take up the ethical demands which scripture assumes to result from an ongoing relationship with the Divine.

Putting this more concretely, I agree with Christopher Wright (who approaches the question from the point of view of missiology). He contends that the people of God have the ethical mission of being God's visible model in the world and that the Great Commission given to the church to go and baptize all peoples (Matt. 28:19) cannot be divorced from the double love command of Matt 22:38–39. ⁵⁶ The implication for the church which, as Dei Verbum 12 notes, has the responsibility to authoritatively determine the content of the tradition, is stark. A church which would teach others and draw them into a relationship with God can only do so honestly and effectively if it itself visibly lives in the relationship begun in scripture and shines forth the love of God and others which springs from that relationship at every level, from the papacy down.

A similar point has also been made recently by Pope Francis in his apostolic exhortation, Evangelii Gaudium. ⁵⁷ A church that ceases to fulfil this role, ceases – in a functional sense – to be the church because it loses the credibility which comes from preaching what O'Collins describes (in relation to the Vincentian Canon) as that which is life-giving and can properly direct our discernment. ⁵⁸ After all, preaching life-giving norms of conduct in a manner which kills faith or which causes others to doubt one's own adherence to it, saps credibility. This is not to deny that all of us, including all within the church, are sinful and will often fail as transmitters of the love of God. Nevertheless, the preaching of a gospel which is the love of Christ is effective only if and to the extent that it demonstrates that love – and is honest about the areas and times where it fails to do so.

Conversely, it has, since Vatican II, become a commonplace within the church that God has graced those beyond its visible boundaries with insights into the divine. People of other faiths and others of good will are therefore recognized as being sharers in God's plans for humanity. Lumen Gentium notes that the church (whether Catholic or otherwise) is not a closed system but is related (ordinantur) to those of other religions and none who reflect God's righteousness in a variety of ways – these, too, are embraced (amplectitur) by the divine plan of salvation in which the church also participates. ⁵⁹

If, as has been argued here, the hallmark of God's self-disclosure to humanity is love calling forth responding love in continuous relationship, it could scarcely be otherwise. As regards the Jewish people, we have already seen in our description of special revelation that God's plans have embraced them from creation to a covenant of love and beyond and can scarcely be seen to have been exhausted. At the same time, these self-same scriptures acknowledge an awareness, not only of broader covenants with humanity in general (especially that with Noah in Gen 9), ⁶⁰ but also of a broader understanding (later described as ‘general revelation’) that God's love and grace are bestowed on people outside the scope of special revelation (Rom 1:19–21). Crucially, for our purposes, the scriptures also assume that the response which such special revelation both allows and demands is one of action grounded in the faith which this enables (Rom 2:14;Heb 11:6). ⁶¹

In the light of what has already been said, I would go further and suggest (although much more could be said, given space) that general revelation and God's self-disclosure calls forth a response of love in action from anyone (see, for example, Job and Jn 1:9), through whichever medium it is that the call to relationship occurs. ⁶²

Important though special revelation and the tradition may be in this regard, it is God, unique and infinite, who has revealed Godself in loving revelation, not the church (even though God clearly does act in and through it). It is this God who calls humanity into divine service in many and diverse ways. As Jacques Dupuis notes, it is therefore this Triune God, acting through various religious traditions, and drawing to Godself all religions with common values founded in love, who must be seen as ultimately salvific rather than any particular religious tradition (including Christianity itself). ⁶³ Gavin D’Costa's suggestion that this revelation must, of itself, have a ‘Christian’ character, seems to constrain God's freedom of action unnecessarily and runs perilously close to ascribing salvation to Christianity, rather than to Christ. ⁶⁴

What we have seen so far suggests that the revelation of God's presence is in progress wherever (and in whichever tradition) relational love of God and love of neighbour are transmitted and, equally importantly, wherever this transmission calls forth a responding action on the part of human beings. (Indeed, scripture itself appears not only to vindicate the understanding of relationships with God outside the Judaeo-Christian tradition, but also to support the double proposition that any such relationship both requires divine intervention in order to even begin and necessarily involves love in action – Heb. 11:6.) Conversely, God's presence fails to be revealed when this does not occur, whatever the theological credentials or ecclesiastical pedigree of those entrusted with the task. As a consequence, we must conclude that wherever we see the kind of relationship to which special revelation attests – a loving disclosure of God to which people lovingly respond and extend that love to the other – we witness the presence of this infinite God, despite the fact that it transcends the categories which our tradition and the understanding of special revelation which it has developed lead us to expect.

Prosper of Aquitaine, the 5th-century student of Augustine, famously held that ‘legem credendi lex statuat supplicandi’ (the law of prayer should establish the law of belief) or, as it is more commonly cited, ‘lex orandi, lex credendi’ – the One who is the subject of prayer (and liturgy) is the One whom theology knows. ⁶⁵ My suggestion in this regard is that Prosper's dictum should be broadened to read ‘lex amandi, lex credendi’ – it is the One who loves and draws forth love in turn from Jews, Christians, those of other faiths and others who informs our belief: a belief which, in turn, should deepen our love. As Christ himself said in asking his contemporaries for a hearing, ‘Wisdom is vindicated by all her children’ (Lk 7:35) and, as the parallel to this text in Matt 11:19 has it, ‘by her deeds’. Indeed, even a lack of obvious faith in God which is nevertheless coupled with universal love demonstrated in action suggests the covert action of the divine. (‘You will know them by their fruits’, as Matt 7:20 says.)

Conclusion

In conclusion, special revelation, in particular, is neither solely propositional, nor is it even solely about establishing a bilateral, personal relationship with God – although there are quite clearly elements of both features to it. Instead, the Torah, the Prophets and the Writings of the Old Testament disclose a God who loves and whose appearance itself demands a response of love of God and neighbour demonstrated in action. The loving relationship thus created is dynamic, extending from the creation and through the Covenant of the Torah in a continuum which is seen to underpin not only God's dealings with his people but also with the whole structure of the cosmos. It is reiterated through the Prophets and the Wisdom literature which, though grounded in the experience of the people, point beyond the contingencies of history to the infinite mystery of God.

The Incarnation builds on this relationship, expanding and extending the bonds of Torah and creation to the world at large in the person of Christ who couples divine and human within himself, thus embodying the double love command which he preaches. At the same time, he discloses the Triune nature of God as not a metaphysical oddity but rather a permanent loving relationship, both within Godself and towards humanity as a whole.

Finally, the implications of this for understanding tradition, the nature of the church and general revelation are profound. If revelation is the disclosure of ongoing loving relationship which demands a response then the church is the church only insofar as it actually does take up that invitation and respond in love of both God and humanity. At the same time, God's self-disclosure beyond the bounds of the church means that others, of all faiths and none, are simultaneously empowered to respond to the invitation of God in loving action. The revelation of God is therefore to be found wherever loving relationship between God and humanity, expressed in responding human action, can be seen (even where the response is, effectively, anonymous in that it takes place without an awareness of God).