This book is required reading on a syllabus for a course that I “inherited” from another professor, so I’ve been reading it at the same time as my students (and hoping that it really was worthwhile!). I’ve just finished it, and I think it’s absolutely fantastic—one of the best theology books I’ve read, and a book that many Christians should check out. (I mean, it’s a theology book that features a detail from a Makoto Fujimura painting on the cover, so it was almost certain I’d like it.)

Though the book is very useful for all Christians, the primary motivation for Miroslav Volf and Matthew Croasmun to write it was a concern that theology has lost its way. In seeking to align itself with modernist “scientific” methodologies, theology has lost its distinctiveness and become confusing in the academy and to the general public. Jobs are scarce, and the public assumes that theology is outdated or lost in ivory-tower theorizing that doesn’t have anything to contribute to real life.

In response to this crisis, the authors propose that the purpose of theology is “to discern, articulate, and commend visions of and paths to flourishing life in light of the self-revelation of God in the life, death, resurrection, exaltation, and coming in glory of Jesus Christ, with this entire story, its lows and its highs, bearing witness to a truly flourishing life” (61). An important aspect of this statement is that it presents a positive vision of the path to “the good life.” Theologians today, under the influence of a “scientific” academic approach to all subjects, too often engage in “critiquiness”—knocking down, griping, pointing out flaws. And there’s a place for analysis and critique; but theology has to present a positive vision of flourishing life, or the discipline will become insular and unhelpful.

The authors clarify what “the flourishing life” is through a three-part framework: life led well; life going well; life feeling well. These three aspects of the good life influence one another as indicators of flourishing. Connecting this framework to what it looks like in real life brings a strong sense of “now and not yet” in how the authors explain the flourishing life. The final chapter focuses on Paul’s concept of the flourishing life, suggesting that Paul’s statement in Romans 14:17 (“For the kingdom of God is not a matter of eating and drinking but of righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit”) shows the ideal state of the three-part framework: life led well = righteousness (or love, as the authors explain); life going well = peace; life feeling well = joy. The authors emphasize that in this world, we ought to live in a state of striving toward a life that is loving/righteous, peaceful, and joyful—but because we live in conditions that are not entirely conducive to the perfect realization of this ideal, we experience the flourishing life in the presence of suffering and incompleteness. Our life on any given day might be full of joy, but even in the midst of that glimpse of the perfect flourishing life, we also mourn those who are not at all joyful. This isn’t because the joy is false or fleeting, but simply because we are still in the “not yet.”

This is such a brief and inadequate overview, and the book discusses a number of other topics (including whether religion is inherently violent; ways Christianity can claim universality and yet also peacefully coexist with other very different worldviews; and how the lives of theologians ought to strive to model the kind of flourishing life their theology articulates). It’s too much to summarize, but it’s all really good. For the Life of the World is a book I look forward to returning to regularly, and I’m also excited to read more by Miroslav Wolf.