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The Theological Imagination: Perception and Interpretation in Life, Art, and Faith
How can we live truthfully in a world riddled with ambiguity, contradiction, and clashing viewpoints? We make sense of the world imaginatively, resolving ambiguous and incomplete impressions into distinct forms and wholes. But the images, objects, words, and even lives of which we make sense in this way always have more or other possible meanings. Judith Wolfe argues that faith gives us courage both to shape our world creatively, and reverently to let things be more than we can imagine. Drawing on complementary materials from literature, psychology, art, and philosophy, her remarkable book demonstrates that Christian theology offers a potent way of imagining the world even as it brings us to the limits of our capacity to imagine. In revealing the significance of unseen depths – of what does not yet make sense to us, and the incomplete – Wolfe characterizes faith as trust in God that surpasses all imagination.
208 pages, Hardcover
Published January 23, 2025
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About the author
Judith Wolfe
27 books11 followersJudith Wolfe is Tutor in Theology at St John's College in the University of Oxford.
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Displaying 1 - 9 of 9 reviews
March 4, 2025
How do we live faithfully in a world full of misinterpretation? How can we be fully ourselves, and fully know each other and God, when this side of paradise our faculties are limited? Wolfe engages the arts to explore how imagination is an essential part of theological work. Her returning image of theology as not a tower we build, but boats to sail on a sea we can trust (26) comes to the most marvelous fruition in the epigraph. You'll just have to read the book. Trust me.
There are a few errors that I hope are corrected in future editions. On p. 165 the Dean from "Babette's Feast" is identified as Danish (which he is in the film) but the example refers to the short story, in which he is Norwegian. (I'll never get over that otherwise marvelous adaptation being set in flat Denmark rather than the fjords of Norway.) The index could have been a little more careful, as it misses a few references/quotations and only lists the times the full title of a work is used.
While Wolfe is often way over my head (I'm a historian, not a philosopher or philosophical theologian!) I connected with her examples. There are so many beautiful thoughts in this book to savor, and I've listed a few favorites below. It is gorgeously produced, with lush full-color images (everything from New Yorker cartoons to da Vinci paintings) and readable print. Very much recommended to those who are curious about how Till We Have Faces and Shakespeare (to name a couple of my favorite examples) can shape our understanding of God and human life.
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"...if the Christian faith is a way of making sense of the world, it does not do so merely by laying out a metaphysical or doctrinal pattern to which we adjust our perception. Rather, it makes sense of the world by enabling us to hold open horizons that we always rush to foreclose, and to sustain uncertainty in the light of a divine promise. To realize this capacity, however, requires a deep faith in a God whom we cannot grasp and take full hold of: a God who is not simply available and who does not simply enable the fulfilment of our ambitions, though he holds out the gift of eternal life." (26)
[on Orual being told her story by a god at the end of Till We Have Faces] "This may well be the form that the Last Judgment will take: this retelling of our stories that integrates them into a larger story of love. It is our fervent hope that this will be so." (41)
"Shakespeare, Rilke, Eliot, and Blixen cannot conjure eschatological fulfilment, but only assume and enable the posture of openness, kindling in their audiences the courage to risk hope. And such hope, it seems to me, is indispensable for ordinary life well lived." (166)
There are a few errors that I hope are corrected in future editions. On p. 165 the Dean from "Babette's Feast" is identified as Danish (which he is in the film) but the example refers to the short story, in which he is Norwegian. (I'll never get over that otherwise marvelous adaptation being set in flat Denmark rather than the fjords of Norway.) The index could have been a little more careful, as it misses a few references/quotations and only lists the times the full title of a work is used.
While Wolfe is often way over my head (I'm a historian, not a philosopher or philosophical theologian!) I connected with her examples. There are so many beautiful thoughts in this book to savor, and I've listed a few favorites below. It is gorgeously produced, with lush full-color images (everything from New Yorker cartoons to da Vinci paintings) and readable print. Very much recommended to those who are curious about how Till We Have Faces and Shakespeare (to name a couple of my favorite examples) can shape our understanding of God and human life.
-----
"...if the Christian faith is a way of making sense of the world, it does not do so merely by laying out a metaphysical or doctrinal pattern to which we adjust our perception. Rather, it makes sense of the world by enabling us to hold open horizons that we always rush to foreclose, and to sustain uncertainty in the light of a divine promise. To realize this capacity, however, requires a deep faith in a God whom we cannot grasp and take full hold of: a God who is not simply available and who does not simply enable the fulfilment of our ambitions, though he holds out the gift of eternal life." (26)
[on Orual being told her story by a god at the end of Till We Have Faces] "This may well be the form that the Last Judgment will take: this retelling of our stories that integrates them into a larger story of love. It is our fervent hope that this will be so." (41)
"Shakespeare, Rilke, Eliot, and Blixen cannot conjure eschatological fulfilment, but only assume and enable the posture of openness, kindling in their audiences the courage to risk hope. And such hope, it seems to me, is indispensable for ordinary life well lived." (166)
February 19, 2025
A much needed work in the Theo and the arts field. The last chapter on the eschatological imagination in art is (unsurprisingly) my favourite.
August 30, 2025
Excellent. Judith Wolfe is brilliant.
April 18, 2025
“This book is about how to imagine the world theologically” (1). Thus goes the deceptively simple opening line of Judith Wolfe’s recent installment in Cambridge University Press’s “Current Issues in Theology” series, The Theological Imagination: Perception and Interpretation in Life, Art, and Faith. Wolfe presents in this volume concise yet robust tapestry of theology, aesthetics, anthropology, and phenomenology. Beginning with a more phenomenological model for the human imagination and its interactions with the arts, she gradually and deftly weaves these insights into the realm of systematic theology, emphasizing Christian eschatology as the locus wherein imagination and art find a unique connection. We will first summarize her work, necessarily but regretfully omitting fascinating points, and then we will offer a few brief criticisms.
Wolfe opens her volume with an introduction devoted to the nature of human imagination. It would be a mistake, however, to think that imagination is solely a human faculty utilized in the arts; imagination is actually a constant aspect of human experience, particularly in every act of perception according to Wolfe. Imagination is the nebulous sense that helps us to easily put the individual parts of sensory experience into a cognitive whole. But imagination is not merely a psychological process, it is also a cultural conditioned phenomenon. What we see and how we see it is an interplay between a bottom-up sensory input and a top-down application of predictions that are informed by both weak and strong convictions about one’s self and the world (this discussion is found in chapter three but ties directly into her introduction nicely). How we see, therefore, is both a matter of finding and making, which is very important for Wolfe’s overall project. Perhaps the most important aspect of this chapter, however, for Wolfe’s methodology and goal is her via media between naïve realism and anti-realism; Wolfe wants to balance legitimate insights of phenomenology and philosophical hermeneutics with a Christian view of reality that posits a genuine depth that goes beyond the purely material or natural, such as, to use Wolfe’s example, “a Platonically inflected Thomism” (22). Indeed, “the aim of this book, therefore, is neither a pure phenomenology nor a systematic theology, but a mixed account that reflects the depth, breadth, and complexity of ordinary and intellectual life, especially the life of faith” (23),
The second chapter touches on the notion of the self and how we perceive ourselves and others. Particularly challenging the notion of “authenticity,” Wolfe contends for the inescapable sociological reality of “roles” that are constitutive of our personal identity. Whether it be the roles of a father, husband, student, church member, and more, these roles each come with their own set of expected behaviors and obligations that not only constitute personal narrative identity overtime, but also stabilize social identity within the community. Importantly, roles do not restrict the imagination but rather drive it, especially in the context of human relationships.
The arguments of chapter three are directly related to that of chapter two, contending that the imagination is essential for someone to navigate the intrinsic ambiguity of human language and relationships. Since humans are essentially relational and linguistic creatures, they are thus also essentially ambiguous creatures, ones that are always in some kind of flux of meaning and emotion. This flux of language and meaning that characterizes ambiguity, as Wolfe argues, is uniquely reflected in poetry and metaphor, but also can be seen in the visual arts that confront the viewer to consider the self and the world in new ways. It is in this chapter that Wolfe begins to turn more explicitly towards systematic theology, as she argues that the Christian liturgy and Scriptures make similar, albeit more intense, demands upon those who partake in the Lord’s Supper and engage in the Bible’s stories.
Chapter four begins to discuss the relationship between the imagination and theology, wherein Wolfe contends that just as the physical senses are necessary for understanding the world, so the spiritual senses, wherein imagination can be found, are necessary for understanding God. In so doing, Wolfe aligns herself with an ancient tradition stretching from the earlier ascetics and through the medieval monastics. Indeed, there is peculiar elasticity between the physical senses and the emotions that characterizes human experience in such a way that must be accounted for when considering knowledge of God, and navigating this elasticity (similar to ambiguity) is the unique role of the imagination. But because of this complex of emotions, senses, roles, and relations, the imagination must be “self-abnegating,” that is, “an imagination that knows itself to be at once necessary and constitutively inadequate” (121–122). It is this “imaginational self-consciousness” (not Wolfe’s term, but fusion of her self-abnegating imagination and Cornelius Van Til’s epistemological self-consciousness) that characterizes the eschatological situation and hope for the Christian, the subject of the final chapter.
In her final chapter, Wolfe posits a “dialectic of eschatology,” which, to frame its content with different terminology, can be summarized as the application of inaugurated eschatology to aesthetics and human imagination. Wolfe describes how art, especially plays, are able to embody the incompleteness of reality as we know it; an inclusio quotation Wolfe utilizes for this chapter comes from C.S. Lewis: “When the author walks on to the stage, the play is over.” Moreover, Wolfe points out the striking biblical overlap between aesthetics and eschatology by outlining the many images used in apocalyptic literature; indeed, it has been said that Revelation is like a picture book.
Wolfe then concludes her work by summarizing the tapestry of finding, making, and receiving that she has woven together in this volume: the human imagination is not only something that simultaneously finds art, makes art, and receives art, but it is also something that finds reality, makes reality, and receives reality, for “the world is poetic not only in the sense that God speaks it into being, but also in the sense that we are called to participate in its utterance” (163).
The first critique leveled at this work has to do with its methodology. Wolfe explicitly maintains a dialogical method between disciplines, wherein the role of theology is “driven by a particular understanding of the Thomist definition of theology as the study of God and of all things in relation to God” (21). Wolfe goes on to elaborate: “Theology, on this definition, seeks to to understand a shared whole; and to do so means both to abide by its own principles and to pursue open, critical, and constructive conversations with those from other disciplines and backgrounds. Because theology relates people and fields to each other, it must be responsive to their questions, discoveries, and challenges. Being true to these challenges without thereby giving up the unique vantage point, truth claims, and intellectual and spiritual resources of theology is one of the responsibilities of contemporary theologians” (23). In other words, Wolfe seeks to complement the insights of psychology, phenomenology, and other disciplines with the truths of theology, all the while maintaining the integrity of theology as its own discipline. The important element of how this is exactly done is not delineated by Wolfe (and reasonably so; this is a volume of theology and imagination, not methodology). Wolfe does state that her interdisciplinary approach only exemplifies one amongst many others (23), but there is a significant difference between such approaches, whether it be Paul Tillich’s method of correlation or an application of Cornelius Van Til’s understanding of common grace and antithesis to different disciplines and worldviews. Overall, we must agree that systematic theology possesses an interdisciplinary enterprise: “So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God” (1 Cor. 10:31); but we also must think deeply and slowly as to how theology relates to other disciplines in such a way that not only maintains “the unique vantage point, truth claims, and intellectual and spiritual resources of theology,” but also its authority (in its most important claims) as ultimately deriving from the Word of God.
The second critique concerns Wolfe’s omission of sin and its effects on the imagination. Although the feeling of incompleteness in this world and all of the tensions that brings for one’s perception of self is a legitimate problem that theology needs to address, it is not the only problem, nor even the most supreme problem. The most severe problem is that of our sin, and since sin has polluted our whole being and all of our faculties, then it has also infected our imagination, both its functions and its limits. I am confident that Wolfe would agree; this volume, however, does not address this important issue.
Overall, Wolfe’s The Theological Imagination is not only an incredible contribution to theological aesthetics, but it is also a stellar example of an interdisciplinary theological endeavor that has many methodological insights we can learn from.
Wolfe opens her volume with an introduction devoted to the nature of human imagination. It would be a mistake, however, to think that imagination is solely a human faculty utilized in the arts; imagination is actually a constant aspect of human experience, particularly in every act of perception according to Wolfe. Imagination is the nebulous sense that helps us to easily put the individual parts of sensory experience into a cognitive whole. But imagination is not merely a psychological process, it is also a cultural conditioned phenomenon. What we see and how we see it is an interplay between a bottom-up sensory input and a top-down application of predictions that are informed by both weak and strong convictions about one’s self and the world (this discussion is found in chapter three but ties directly into her introduction nicely). How we see, therefore, is both a matter of finding and making, which is very important for Wolfe’s overall project. Perhaps the most important aspect of this chapter, however, for Wolfe’s methodology and goal is her via media between naïve realism and anti-realism; Wolfe wants to balance legitimate insights of phenomenology and philosophical hermeneutics with a Christian view of reality that posits a genuine depth that goes beyond the purely material or natural, such as, to use Wolfe’s example, “a Platonically inflected Thomism” (22). Indeed, “the aim of this book, therefore, is neither a pure phenomenology nor a systematic theology, but a mixed account that reflects the depth, breadth, and complexity of ordinary and intellectual life, especially the life of faith” (23),
The second chapter touches on the notion of the self and how we perceive ourselves and others. Particularly challenging the notion of “authenticity,” Wolfe contends for the inescapable sociological reality of “roles” that are constitutive of our personal identity. Whether it be the roles of a father, husband, student, church member, and more, these roles each come with their own set of expected behaviors and obligations that not only constitute personal narrative identity overtime, but also stabilize social identity within the community. Importantly, roles do not restrict the imagination but rather drive it, especially in the context of human relationships.
The arguments of chapter three are directly related to that of chapter two, contending that the imagination is essential for someone to navigate the intrinsic ambiguity of human language and relationships. Since humans are essentially relational and linguistic creatures, they are thus also essentially ambiguous creatures, ones that are always in some kind of flux of meaning and emotion. This flux of language and meaning that characterizes ambiguity, as Wolfe argues, is uniquely reflected in poetry and metaphor, but also can be seen in the visual arts that confront the viewer to consider the self and the world in new ways. It is in this chapter that Wolfe begins to turn more explicitly towards systematic theology, as she argues that the Christian liturgy and Scriptures make similar, albeit more intense, demands upon those who partake in the Lord’s Supper and engage in the Bible’s stories.
Chapter four begins to discuss the relationship between the imagination and theology, wherein Wolfe contends that just as the physical senses are necessary for understanding the world, so the spiritual senses, wherein imagination can be found, are necessary for understanding God. In so doing, Wolfe aligns herself with an ancient tradition stretching from the earlier ascetics and through the medieval monastics. Indeed, there is peculiar elasticity between the physical senses and the emotions that characterizes human experience in such a way that must be accounted for when considering knowledge of God, and navigating this elasticity (similar to ambiguity) is the unique role of the imagination. But because of this complex of emotions, senses, roles, and relations, the imagination must be “self-abnegating,” that is, “an imagination that knows itself to be at once necessary and constitutively inadequate” (121–122). It is this “imaginational self-consciousness” (not Wolfe’s term, but fusion of her self-abnegating imagination and Cornelius Van Til’s epistemological self-consciousness) that characterizes the eschatological situation and hope for the Christian, the subject of the final chapter.
In her final chapter, Wolfe posits a “dialectic of eschatology,” which, to frame its content with different terminology, can be summarized as the application of inaugurated eschatology to aesthetics and human imagination. Wolfe describes how art, especially plays, are able to embody the incompleteness of reality as we know it; an inclusio quotation Wolfe utilizes for this chapter comes from C.S. Lewis: “When the author walks on to the stage, the play is over.” Moreover, Wolfe points out the striking biblical overlap between aesthetics and eschatology by outlining the many images used in apocalyptic literature; indeed, it has been said that Revelation is like a picture book.
Wolfe then concludes her work by summarizing the tapestry of finding, making, and receiving that she has woven together in this volume: the human imagination is not only something that simultaneously finds art, makes art, and receives art, but it is also something that finds reality, makes reality, and receives reality, for “the world is poetic not only in the sense that God speaks it into being, but also in the sense that we are called to participate in its utterance” (163).
The first critique leveled at this work has to do with its methodology. Wolfe explicitly maintains a dialogical method between disciplines, wherein the role of theology is “driven by a particular understanding of the Thomist definition of theology as the study of God and of all things in relation to God” (21). Wolfe goes on to elaborate: “Theology, on this definition, seeks to to understand a shared whole; and to do so means both to abide by its own principles and to pursue open, critical, and constructive conversations with those from other disciplines and backgrounds. Because theology relates people and fields to each other, it must be responsive to their questions, discoveries, and challenges. Being true to these challenges without thereby giving up the unique vantage point, truth claims, and intellectual and spiritual resources of theology is one of the responsibilities of contemporary theologians” (23). In other words, Wolfe seeks to complement the insights of psychology, phenomenology, and other disciplines with the truths of theology, all the while maintaining the integrity of theology as its own discipline. The important element of how this is exactly done is not delineated by Wolfe (and reasonably so; this is a volume of theology and imagination, not methodology). Wolfe does state that her interdisciplinary approach only exemplifies one amongst many others (23), but there is a significant difference between such approaches, whether it be Paul Tillich’s method of correlation or an application of Cornelius Van Til’s understanding of common grace and antithesis to different disciplines and worldviews. Overall, we must agree that systematic theology possesses an interdisciplinary enterprise: “So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God” (1 Cor. 10:31); but we also must think deeply and slowly as to how theology relates to other disciplines in such a way that not only maintains “the unique vantage point, truth claims, and intellectual and spiritual resources of theology,” but also its authority (in its most important claims) as ultimately deriving from the Word of God.
The second critique concerns Wolfe’s omission of sin and its effects on the imagination. Although the feeling of incompleteness in this world and all of the tensions that brings for one’s perception of self is a legitimate problem that theology needs to address, it is not the only problem, nor even the most supreme problem. The most severe problem is that of our sin, and since sin has polluted our whole being and all of our faculties, then it has also infected our imagination, both its functions and its limits. I am confident that Wolfe would agree; this volume, however, does not address this important issue.
Overall, Wolfe’s The Theological Imagination is not only an incredible contribution to theological aesthetics, but it is also a stellar example of an interdisciplinary theological endeavor that has many methodological insights we can learn from.
April 12, 2025
Kāpēc mēs joprojām runājam par kristietību? Kāpēc tik šķietami autoritāti zaudējusi reliģija joprojām veido mūsu vērtības un valodu? Nu, tieši tāpēc. Teoloģiskās iztēles spēks veidot jēgu un nozīmi.. Absolūti paradoksālā veidā. Bet, sasodīts, tas joprojām der! Un, nu arī ķīnieši sāk meklēt āķi tajā visā 🙂
Judith Wolfe rāda, ka teoloģiskā iztēle (caur Šekspīra dramaturģiju) nav par pilnīgu izpratni vai kontroli, bet par dzīvošanu attiecībās ar trauslo, skaisto un pārejošo. Tajā dzimst cerība, kas nav vienkārši nākotnes projekcija, bet dziļa, klātesoša priekšnojauta, kas rodas kopīgā ievainojamībā.
Identitāte dzimst nevis kā iekšējs “es”, bet kā atbilde uz skatienu – kā loma, ko spēlējam citu priekšā.
Teātris – un, plašākā nozīmē, teoloģiskā iztēle – ļauj mums atkāpties no pašcentrētās perspektīvas, pārslēgties no pašvērojuma uz līdzpārdzīvojumu, no varoņa uz liecinieku.
Judith Wolfe rāda, ka teoloģiskā iztēle (caur Šekspīra dramaturģiju) nav par pilnīgu izpratni vai kontroli, bet par dzīvošanu attiecībās ar trauslo, skaisto un pārejošo. Tajā dzimst cerība, kas nav vienkārši nākotnes projekcija, bet dziļa, klātesoša priekšnojauta, kas rodas kopīgā ievainojamībā.
Identitāte dzimst nevis kā iekšējs “es”, bet kā atbilde uz skatienu – kā loma, ko spēlējam citu priekšā.
Teātris – un, plašākā nozīmē, teoloģiskā iztēle – ļauj mums atkāpties no pašcentrētās perspektīvas, pārslēgties no pašvērojuma uz līdzpārdzīvojumu, no varoņa uz liecinieku.
July 19, 2025
Amazing. I've been wanting to write some kind of series on perception for several years now, but Judith Wolfe's writing goes beyond any insights I might have offered. (I'll still probably write something, though.)
January 24, 2026
Prof. Wolfe heeft ons een dienst bewezen met dit boek, door meerdere disciplines met elkaar te verbinden. Het vierde hoofdstuk sprak me het meest aan. Mooi om ook te merken dat de eschatologische lading in de kunst besproken wordt. Goed leesbaar, lucide schrijfstijl.
August 31, 2025
Happened to come across this book when I was in a Cambridge at the university bookstore
December 31, 2025
So, so so so good. Truly a “liberal arts” book as Wolfe pulls from sooo many disciplines and fields. My yearning for the Scottish seaside only grows stronger 🥲🥲🥲
Displaying 1 - 9 of 9 reviews