Once again, I’m surprised—borderline dismayed—by how little attention this work has received. Maybe I'm not hip enough to know where to look.
In this volume, Vanhoozer pushes back against the demythologizing impulses of Bultmann and Feuerbach and, in the background, Ricoeur. His wager is this: "We will come to a better understanding of God’s being by examining biblical accounts of God’s communicative action (i.e., naming, promising, declaring, etc.) (18)." The focal point is not abstract metaphysics but the nature of the dialogical relationship between God and humanity in his self-communication in Scripture and how this shapes the doctrine of God.
Vanhoozer frames the debate in three competing avenues of knowing God: myth, mythos, and metaphysics. He chooses mythos—not as fantasy but as the dramatic medium of divine self-communication in Scripture. Metaphysics, divorced from divine communicative action, collapses into mere phenomenology. This is where Bultmann's soft demythologizing leads: “questions of God and the question of myself are identical.” In his scheme, the myth becomes suspect, even if some transcendence is retained. Feuerbach takes it further: transcendence is an illusion, a projection of self. Theology becomes anthropology.
Against both stands Vanhoozer's remythologizing project, which:
1 Does not fall back into myth but springs forward into metaphysics,
2 Recovers the who of biblical discourse,
3 Attends to the Trinity as communicative agent,
4 Reconceives the God-world relation not causally but communicatively,
5 Recasts metaphysics, epistemology, and ethics in theodramatic terms,
6 Centers both Christ and canon as means of God’s self-presentation,
7 Recognizes Scripture's polyphonic nature,
8 Proposes a first theology rooted in divine discourse (27-29).
From this launch point, Vanhoozer navigates the doctrine of God, touching on divine being, varieties of theism, and critiques of ontotheology. Always circling back to this: theology must begin where God speaks and acts. Divine communicative action is not only the substance of revelation but the cornerstone of metaphysics. The root metaphor for God is thus author—an anthropomorphism, yes, but a theologically warranted one, for this is how God condescends to be known.
Vanhoozer tackles the perennial tension between Creator and creation, as well as divine impassibility and suffering. Regarding the divine-human relationship, Vanhoozer turns to providence and prayer. God authors the story while humans remain real participants. The analogy evokes Paul Auster’s New York Trilogy: the author is present in the story, shaping it, but not reducible. Prayer, then, is a meeting at a “causal joint." Not mechanistic causality but transformation by participation in divine address. This is a dialogical relationship: we speak, but God is not changed or flustered.
This leads to the question: Can God suffer? Can God change in response to human dialogue? (p. 400).
Vanhoozer notes that "emotion" is a relatively modern category, dating back to Descartes. The early church considered passions not irrational forces but "movements within the will." Vanhoozer critiques both physicalist and nonrational-cognitive theories of emotion. Instead, he proposes a narrative construal: emotions are belief-laden perceptions of situations. Applied to God, emotions are divine construals, as judgments of human response to his words and deeds. Because God’s construals are always just, his emotions are objective and covenantal, not arbitrary or changing (p. 412–413).
God’s affections are best understood as covenantal affections which are linked to his character and the covenant bond. Jealousy, for example, is not weakness but a faithful construal of covenantal violation. The result is that God is both impassible and the one who feels. The impassible feels (p. 414).
In Christ, this is displayed in communicatio idiomatum: Jesus is not an abstraction or a reduction but the divine Son in human mode. "The temporal experiences of Jesus Christ are to be assigned neither to an abstract human nature, nor to the divine nature, but rather to a divine person (viz., the Son) in his human mode of existence" (pp. 425–426). His suffering is neither an accident nor endured but a passion, a middle-voice action: both suffered and achieved.
Why does this matter? Because divine impassibility guarantees the trustworthiness of God's being-in-communicative-action (p. 433). His compassion is not passivity but power. He does not merely suffer with us; he acts to redeem. His compassion is not sentimentalism but covenantal hesed.
Vanhoozer contrasts this with empathetic theologies (e.g., Farley, Moltmann), which he critiques on several fronts:
1 They collapse the Creator-creature distinction,
2 They ignore the specificity of divine speech,
3 They make God a tragic figure—one more sufferer in the world process.
4 Balthasar’s critique of Moltmann is apt: “God becomes a tragic, mythological God” (pp. 460–461). Such a God cannot remain an author outside the story.
In contrast, Vanhoozer’s God is the sovereign-sufferer who withstands, not Whitehead’s "fellow sufferer who understands" (p. 466). Divine impassibility is not cold detachment but the unwavering fidelity of God.
“Why is there something rather than nothing?” Because God has spoken. Reality is divine rhetoric is God’s poetic act. "God is the author of everything other than Himself." The universe is not abstract being; it is a communicative work. Calvin reminds us that we must seek God where he renders himself "near and familiar" in the mythos of Scripture (p. 469).
In the end, Vanhoozer warns against two errors: turning God into a myth and approaching God as a mystical immediacy; both are too eager and too easy. Anthropomorphism, far from a liability, is a scaled mythos or a God-given form for divine address. Behind the form lies metaphysical reality, which is not one constructed through speculation, but revealed in speech.
98% Remytholgized