Now is a fertile moment for Anglophone scholarship on Henri de Lubac. In recent years, Hans Boersma, Joseph Flipper, Jordan Hillebert, Paul McPartlan, John Milbank, and Susan K. Wood have established de Lubac’s importance not only as a central figure at the Second Vatican Council, but also as a stimulus for contemporary theology. Eugene Schlesinger’s new monograph Salvation in Henri de Lubac: Divine Grace, Human Nature, and the Mystery of the Cross is a serious contribution to this flourishing conversation.
Schlesinger’s thesis is that de Lubac’s “soteriological preoccupation . . . provides a principle for integrating the concerns of his major works in the areas of the theology of the supernatural, spiritual exegesis, sacramental theology, ecclesiology, and the theology of history, as well as his works on particular figures and movements” (xiv). Given that de Lubac wrote little about soteriology in its own right, that de Lubac’s corpus is vast, and that his interests are varied, Schlesinger’s argument is ambitious. The approach is rigorously inductive, focusing on de Lubac’s body of work and taking it “on its own terms” (xxi).
The first part of the book considers de Lubac’s understanding of the relationship between grace and nature (chapter 1) and his analysis and critique of what de Lubac calls “atheist humanism” (chapter 2). Regarding the former, Schlesinger begins with de Lubac’s Surnaturel (literally “supernatural”), namely de Lubac’s position that “humanity has a natural desire for the beatific vision” (4). Schlesinger contends that when de Lubac speaks of the supernatural, de Lubac has in mind the “calling of humanity to share in the life of God through Christ” (9). De Lubac’s concern throughout this long-running debate about humanity’s natural inclinations is therefore soteriological, rather than ontological. The shift of interpretive emphasis is fresh and full of potential, although Schlesinger’s inductive approach prescinds from any constructive development. Schlesinger’s reading of de Lubac on atheist humanism in chapter 2 contributes sensibly to his overall argument, but is less ambitious than the previous chapter. De Lubac’s criticisms of Auguste Comte, Karl Marx, Pierre-Joseph Proudhon, and Friedrich Nietzsche are also soteriological: their rejection of the Christian doctrine of sin results in a program of action that is ultimately unrealistic in its assessment of human social and individual possibilities. This is well-trodden ground in de Lubac scholarship.
Chapter 3, the first in part 2, focuses on de Lubac’s theology of divine revelation. The notion of divine revelation raises myriad epistemological questions, which Schlesinger surveys as he dives into de Lubac’s neo-scholastic context and his understanding of mysticism in its relationship to theology (39-44). Yet even here, Schlesinger holds that de Lubac’s emphasis remains soteriological. The mystery revealed in divine revelation is salvation through Christ, and moreover “the dynamic movement of our knowledge of God is itself salvation” (55). As for the spiritual exegesis of sacred scripture (chapter 4), Schlesinger claims that the “core of spiritual exegesis [for de Lubac] is a theology of salvation in Christ” (59). Like the relationship between grace and nature, the New Testament is unsurpassably new and yet responds to the desires expressed in the Old Testament. Ultimately, the meaning of scripture centers specifically upon the cross (68-73).
Schlesinger turns to de Lubac’s understanding of the church (chapter 5) and its sacraments (chapter 6) in part 3. This part is the strongest of the book. Schlesinger takes up de Lubac’s complex but high view of magisterial authority and emphasizes the continuity de Lubac finds between the First and Second Vatican Councils. He also provides an intelligent and challenging interpretation of de Lubac’s famous position that the eucharist makes the church, arguing that this position should be interpreted “through a sacrificial lens” (103). This recovery of sacrifice is an important theme for Schlesinger’s reading of de Lubac and the most innovative element of the book. The center point of de Lubac’s theology of the church and the sacraments is salvation: at the heart of the church is Christ crucified, a sacrifice repeated again and again at the eucharist for the church as a whole and for each individual believer.
The final part of the book deals with de Lubac’s eschatology and theology of history. Chapter 7 provides a nuanced and illuminating reading of de Lubac on Joachim of Fiore, whose historical scheme—an age of the Father, an age of the Son, and a coming age of the Holy Spirit—both fascinated and troubled de Lubac. De Lubac’s rejection of what he took to be Joachim’s position was on soteriological grounds—salvation in Christ cannot be surpassed in any age to come. Chapter 8 attends to de Lubac’s reception of Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, specifically Teilhard’s emphasis on the cosmic Christ. De Lubac’s engagement with Teilhard reveals a concern of de Lubac’s, namely that our understanding of history (including the “last things”) and the cosmos itself will be hopelessly distorted unless it centers upon the saving death and resurrection of Jesus. Just before the conclusion, Schlesinger includes a coda that draws together the preceding themes and illuminates them with de Lubac’s reflections on theology as ultimately located within mysticism, and the possibility of a renewed speculative theology centered upon soteriology as the nexus mysteriorum (nexus of mysteries).
The monograph has flaws. Schlesinger’s inductive approach, though a strength in many respects, results in chapters that hang together loosely, much like de Lubac’s corpus. Likewise, Schlesinger presents an accurate and insightful reading of de Lubac’s understanding of salvation, but de Lubac’s soteriology lacks theoretical definition. Salvation may hold together the various strands of de Lubac’s thought, but the reader is left with less than a full sense of how one would advance this vision of salvation in theoretical or speculative terms.
However, the book’s strengths outweigh these weaknesses. Schlesinger’s mastery of de Lubac’s corpus and the relevant secondary literature is impressive, and his presentation of de Lubac’s thinking on a variety of subjects are judicious and illuminating. Above all, Schlesinger achieves the aims he set out. The book belongs on the shelf of any serious student of de Lubac and in the footnotes of de Lubac scholarship for years to come.
Matthew B. Hale is a visiting assistant professor at the University of Scranton.
Matthew Hale
Date Of Review:
July 12, 2024
