Since the outbreak of the Second World War we have witnessed what may best be described as a “Renaissance of Christian Thought.” Christian belief is more respectable among intellectuals than it was a generation ago. Philosophers, novelists, and poets who present the case for Christianity are widely read and taken seriously even by fellow-intellectuals who do not share their beliefs. Among the Christian intelligentsia there has been a striking rebirth of theology, and Christian theologians are read more widely outside clerical circles than they have been for perhaps a hundred years. The names of Barth, Brunner, Nygren. Maritain, Tillich, and Niebuhr are known at least vaguely to the same sort of people who could not have named a single theologian a generation ago. Both the quality and range of the revival are impressive. Christianity appears to be attracting first-rate minds, and Christian speculation is ranging all the way from social and political theory to ethics, philosophy, and history.

One of the most important results of the New Testament study that has gone on during the past generation is its realization that the theology of the New Testament is unintelligible outside the context of its eschatological message. The precise meaning of that message is still the subject of much investigation and controversy, but its importance has become a matter of general agreement among New Testament students. Much less general is the realization of the implications of this insight for other areas of theological concern. Rudolf Bultmann's recent essay on mythology and the New Testament has served to raise again the question of the relevance of New Testament eschatology for systematic theology. That question has far-reaching implications for the study of the history of theology as well, implications with which historical theology has not yet come to terms. The relation between primitive Christian eschatology and the development of ancient Christian theology is a problem deserving of more study than the standard interpretations of the history of dogma have given it, for it can help iiluminate the origins of such dogmas as the Trinity and ancient Christology. Among the historians of dogma, only Martin Werner has taken up the problem in great detail, and his discussion of it has not yet issued in any new historico-theological synthesis.

The history of medieval crusading may be conveniently divided into two chapters. The first of these chapters would end with 1291 when Acre was lost by the Christians and would cover the period extending backward to 1095 when the first crusading expedition was launched. During this period the western Christians conquered and lost the Holy Lands. They also established themselves in Greece and the Greek archipelago. The second chapter would come down to 1395, the year of the battle of Nicopolis, or possibly 1444, the year of Varna. During this period, though there is considerable talk and some action for the recovery of the Holy Land, the struggle has really become one for the defense of Europe against the invading Turks.

A good many Protestants—mostly buccaneers, sailors and traders—entered Latin America under the Spanish and Portuguese domination. In most cases, they were promptly detected, captured and tried by the Inquisition. Under the ordeal, a majority recanted, mainly in order to avoid punishment, but some, who remained loyal to the end, were burnt at the stake.