In this article I shall try to argue that to accept polarities in theology is a discipline imposed by the subject matter itself, and that attempts to break out of the received polarities are likely, if not certain, to end in reductionism. The relation of paradox to polarity demands far more thorough treatment than I have been able to give it here. For example, the question as to whether all polarities are inherently paradoxical is one that I have not discussed. Neither have I made it a part of my case to contend for the paradoxical nature of Christian doctrine. I am inclined to think, however, that once we perceive creation itself to be paradoxical—in that God causes to be that which is not he, which seems to involve a self-limitation or even ‘kenosis’ of deity—we will be predisposed to accept the paradoxes of the Incarnation, justification (simul iustus et peccator), and eschatology (already and not yet). But I have used the word polarity in a broad sense which I hope will become clear as the argument proceeds. I eventually make some critical comments about ‘liberation theology’ and Professor Wiles's The Remaking of Christian Doctrine. But I begin by trying to advance the argument on a broad front.

Biblical scholars and theologians have sometimes suggested that the concept of story or narration may be used to avoid or even resolve certain long-standing problems in theology. The context of such a suggestion appears to be not only the gradual filtering of ideas from the social sciences into theological awareness but also a much improved understanding of the nature and transmission of the biblical traditions. For instance, literary criticism had tried to tell the story of the making of the Bible as a story of writing and editing. With its analytic interest, form criticism penetrated deeper, concentrating on the crucial role of oral tradition and on the power of communities to shape certain forms. Depending on these prior analytical activities, tradition criticism (or ‘redaction criticism’ in New Testament studies) felt free to seek larger unities in the material before it. That is, whereas form criticism's interest lay in describing separately the variety of ‘;scenes’ that later took their respective places in the story, tradition criticism concentrated on telling the whole story of the making of the Bible.2

The traditional account of the history of the doctrine of predestination runs somewhat as follows: After the close of the apostolic era, Christians took little interest in the doctrine for the next three centuries. It was again brought into prominence during the early fifth century by Augustine, who was led, partly in reaction to Pelagianism, to formulate the doctrine in an extreme form. This produced a further reaction from a group of theologians led by Cassian, who regarded themselves as orthodox and as opponents of Pelagius, but who rejected the extreme Augustinian doctrine. It is generally considered that from a strictly logical point of view, there is more to be said for Augustine's doctrine, but that as he stated it it was found repugnant by many Christians. So Cassian and his followers are owed a certain debt for preventing the church from being saddled with the logical excesses of the greatest of the Latin fathers.1 All later statements, however, cannot but be Augustinian, Cassianite, or mediating positions between the two.

Every religion has an overall structure which both gives meaning to and derives it from each of its constituent parts. Ordinarily, this structure may be seen in its most essential form in cultic worship where religious experience both is determined by and itself determines the shape and meaning of religious traditions. In contemporary Roman Catholicism, for example, the Eucharist is understood in several ways due to the variety of possible contexts in which the Mass may be experienced; a religious community and a parish church are examples of widely diverging contexts. However, if we wish to understand the significance and place of the Eucharist in a period as remote and as different from our own as that of first century Christianity, we are faced with a radically different problem. One popular approach to such an inquiry would carefully examine the theme of the Lord's Supper throughout the New Testament and other early Christian literature so that the results of the study could be used to compare and contrast the Eucharist (s) of early Christianity with that of one or another modern Christian denomination. The all but unavoidable result of this approach would be the tendency of each theological tradition to retroject its own understanding of the Eucharist back into the early Church, whether it would find itself at home there or not.

Then men said, ‘Let us make God in our image, after our likeness; and let him have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the birds of the air.’ So men created God in their own image, in the image of man they created him; with the attributes of justice and mercy they created him.