The Absent Tribunal of Reason

— A Biblical-Ontological Critique of Anselm, with a Discussion on the Order of the Serpent and the Order of Genesis

Abstract

In Book 2, Chapter 1 of Cur Deus Homo, Anselm argues that rational nature (ratio) was created holy by God for the purpose of discerning good and evil, loving the supreme good, and enjoying God, and thus is worthy of eternal life. This essay contends that this argument presupposes an independent “tribunal of reason” standing above the God-human relationship, elevating reason to the ultimate standard by which both God and humanity are measured. However, the biblical narrative runs in the opposite direction: the capacity to “know good and evil” in Genesis 3 is not a creational gift but the fruit of the fall after eating the forbidden fruit; and Paul defines the human predicament as “falling short of the glory of God” (Rom. 3:23)—not as debt, not as lostness, but as failing to reach the goal God set for humanity. The central claim of this essay is that the “noble reason” which Anselm enthrones as the highest arbiter does not exist in the biblical world—as an independent, self-sufficient, neutral judge, it is either a fiction that never existed or a product of sin. Anselm’s project of proving the “rationality” of the gospel by reason is essentially a transformation of the serpent’s promise in Eden (“you shall be like God, knowing good and evil”) into a theological axiom. This is not a local correction of Anselm but an ontological demolition of the very foundation of his argument.

Keywords: Anselm; reason; tree of the knowledge of good and evil; fall short of the glory of God; way model; order of the serpent

I. Introduction: A Neglected Textual Nexus

Anselm’s Cur Deus Homo (1098) is one of the most influential texts in the history of Western Christian soteriology. In Book 2, Chapter 1, he writes:

> “It ought not to be disputed that rational nature was made holy by God, in order to be happy in enjoying Him. For to this end is it rational, in order to discern justice and injustice, good and evil, and between the greater and the lesser good. Otherwise it was made rational in vain… In like manner is it proved that the intelligent creature received the power of discernment for this purpose, that he might hate and shun evil, and love and choose good, and especially the greater good… Therefore man, whose nature is rational, was made holy for this end, that he might be happy in enjoying God.”¹

This passage appears to be a mild statement of the teleology of creation, but it conceals a radical philosophical presupposition: there exists a transcendental “noble reason” (nobilis ratio) independent of the God-human relationship, capable of discerning the supreme good from the supreme evil and of judging what is “fitting” for creatures. To be human is to possess this reason; to be God is also to conform to its standard. The incarnation and the death of Christ become not the free act of God’s love but an obligatory “rational duty” that God must perform—to satisfy a tribunal of reason that stands above and before God.

The central thesis of this essay is that this “tribunal of reason” does not exist in the biblical narrative. It is not a neutral instrument that can be “properly used”; it is itself a symbol of usurpation—placing a created concept (reason) above the Creator and making it the measure of the Creator’s actions. Anselm’s entire enterprise is an attempt to ground faith in human reason, and this is precisely the academic form of the serpent’s ultimate temptation in Eden.

This is not a “misreading” of Anselm’s literal words, but a precise capture of the underlying presupposition of his argumentative structure. Anselm’s argument is not merely a rhetorical error; it is an ontological error—a philosophical axiom that silently replaces the biblical definitions of “God” and “man” with a pre-biblical one.

II. Anselm’s Hidden Axiom Chain: Reason as an Independent Variable

(A) The Fourfold Presupposition of His Argument

Anselm’s argument can be reduced to the following chain:

1. Presupposition of the highest standard: There exists a transcendental “noble reason” (or concept of the “supreme good”) independent of the God-human relationship. This reason has the capacity to “discern the supreme good and the supreme evil” and to judge “what is fitting for creatures.”

2. Definition of man: The essence of being human consists in possessing this “noble reason.” Therefore, human “worth” and “purpose” are defined by this reason: he is “worthy” of eternal life because reason demands that he enjoy the “supreme good.”

3. Definition of God: To be God also means to conform to this “noble reason.” God is the “supreme good,” but this “supremacy” is not self-defined by God; it is measured by the rational standard that precedes God. God must be “reasonable,” must “keep promises,” must “repay debts”—otherwise He violates the higher “rational justice.”

4. The rationality of the gospel: Therefore, the incarnation and the death of Christ are not a free act of God’s love but a “rational obligation” that God must fulfill—to satisfy the verdict of that independent, higher tribunal of reason.

In this structure, “noble reason” is an independent variable—it precedes God, defines man, and judges God. Both God and man stand under its court.

(B) Methodological Posture: “Without Appeal to Authority, Only Reason”

Anselm explicitly adopts a methodological “suspension” in the dialogue: he seeks “necessary reasons” (necessitas / rationes necessariae), that is, to let reason deduce that “if the ultimate end of man is to be achieved, God must act in this way (incarnation, satisfaction, death).”²

The crucial question is: Whose “must” is this? Is it God’s own free will, or is it a “rational necessity” independent of God? When “rational necessity” is taken as the ultimate explanatory framework, the cross is transformed from “the mystery of revelation / the event of salvation” into “a rationally pre-calculable scheme.” This is precisely the point where Lutheran “theology of the cross” would strongly react methodologically—because the cross is not a conclusion derived by reason, but a radical negation of reason’s right to judge.

III. The Radical Inversion of Scripture: The Narrative Logic of Genesis and Paul

(A) The Fundamental Opposition of Two Orders

The biblical narrative and logic stand in opposition to Anselm’s chain at every point:

(B) Genesis 3: Anselm Turns It Upside Down

The most fatal absence in Anselm’s argument is Genesis 3—the story of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.

Anselm writes: “rational nature was made holy by God, in order to be happy in enjoying Him”—he presupposes that reason was holy at creation. But if reason is fallen, if reason itself is a product of sin, then his entire book collapses from its very first sentence.

Let us set side by side the order of Genesis and the order of Anselm:

The Order of Genesis:

1. God first gives Adam a command (Gen. 2:16-17)

2. Then God forbids Adam from acquiring the capacity to discern good and evil (Gen. 2:17: “but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat”)

3. The serpent tempts: “You will be like God, knowing good and evil” (Gen. 3:5)

4. Man disobeys and steals the capacity to discern good and evil (Gen. 3:6-7)

5. This capacity is the beginning of sin and death (Gen. 3:19-24)

Anselm’s Order:

1. God creates man with holy reason

2. God’s purpose in creating man is that he discern good and evil himself

3. God gives man the capacity to discern good and evil

4. This capacity is the foundation of eternal life

Anselm does not refute Genesis 3. He simply turns it upside down.

In Hebrew, the word for “know” (יָדַע, yada) in Genesis carries a relational, covenantal connotation—for example, Genesis 4:1 “Adam knew his wife” refers to intimate union. But in Genesis 3, this word is redefined by the serpent as “the capacity to autonomously define good and evil.”³ What Anselm inherits is precisely the serpent’s redefined yada, not the relational knowledge God intended. Anselm turns the serpent’s promise—the lie that lured humanity into transgression—into the very purpose of creation.

Anselm presupposes that reason was created holy so that it could perceive the supreme good, which is God. But Paul offers a radically different diagnosis:

> “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” (Rom. 3:23)

Note the precise meaning of this diagnosis. “Fall short” (hystereō) is not “breaking the law” requiring punishment, not “owing a debt” requiring repayment, nor even “losing one’s way” requiring guidance. “Fall short” means: God set a goal for humanity—to become perfect, to become sons, to be heirs, to rule the coming world—and humanity cannot reach that goal. The “body of death” (Rom. 7:24) is precisely that which prevents man from ever hitting the target.

Hence Paul’s cry:

> “Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? ” (Rom. 7:24)

He does not ask: “Who will repay my debt?” He does not ask: “Who will bear my punishment?” He asks: “Who will get me out of this body that cannot reach the glory?” His question is not a “juridical” one but a “life” question—he needs a guide to lead him to a place he himself can never reach.

The author of Hebrews gives the answer:

> “For it was fitting that he, for whom and by whom all things exist, in bringing many sons to glory, should make the founder of their salvation perfect through suffering.” (Heb. 2:10)

Correspondingly, Paul in 1 Corinthians also declares the cross’s ultimate negation of “autonomous reason”:

> “For since, in the wisdom of God, the world did not know God through wisdom, it pleased God through the folly of what we preach to save those who believe… For Jews demand signs and Greeks seek wisdom, but we preach Christ crucified… Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God.” (1 Cor. 1:21-24)

Anselm’s entire axiom is the direct opposite of Paul’s statement. Anselm says: the core of the natural man is his reason, created to be able to perceive the supreme good. Paul says: “The natural person does not accept the things of the Spirit of God, for they are folly to him, and he is not able to understand them” (1 Cor. 2:14).

And there is a final, most ironic point, almost never noted: the same reason that Anselm uses to prove that God must become incarnate—the reason that can judge what is fitting for God, what is just, what God owes—is the very reason that stood beneath Golgotha and cried out, “Crucify him!”

The reason that crucified Jesus cannot at the same time prove that Jesus had to die.

IV. Two Kinds of “Knowing Good and Evil”: The Overlooked Theological Pivot

(A) Obedient Discernment vs. Autonomous Discernment

A crucial distinction must be made: it is not that Adam had no discernment before the fall. God gave Adam a command, set a prohibition, and required obedience—this itself presupposes that Adam had some kind of “obedient discernment.” But what Scripture opposes is autonomous, usurping discernment that takes God’s place.

We must distinguish two kinds of “knowing”:

– Obedient discernment: knowing good and evil as received from God, in trust, in relationship. This is relational, entrusted, responsive.

– Autonomous discernment: usurping God’s place, making oneself the ultimate judge of good and evil. This is independent, self-sufficient, judgmental.

What Scripture opposes is not “discernment” itself, but the power logic behind autonomous discernment—the presumption “I will be like God.”

(B) Is Discernment a Prerequisite for Obedience?

This is the one true trump card in the entire debate. Here Anselm, and virtually the whole Western theological tradition, assumes a never-proven axiom: discernment is a prerequisite for obedience. You must first know what is good and what is evil, and then you can obey the command to do good.

But the entire narrative of Genesis is written to overturn that axiom.

The order of Genesis is radically reversed:

> God first gives Adam a command → then God forbids Adam from acquiring the capacity to discern good and evil → obedience is not the result of discernment; right discernment is the result of obedience.

This is the true power of the serpent’s proposal: he offers Adam a different order—first discern, then obey. Or more precisely: since you can now discern for yourself, you no longer need to obey anyone.

The central axiom of Anselm’s entire system is that he accepts the serpent’s order and rejects the order of Genesis.

V. The Fall of Reason: From “Self-Preservation” to “Self-Giving”

(A) The First Principle of Fallen Reason: Self-Preservation

For fallen humanity, the first principle of reason is self-preservation. This self-preservation is grounded in a non-rational fact—the rupture between man and God. Cut off from God, man seeks to sustain his own existence; self-preservation becomes instinct.

Paul diagnoses the essence of fallen reason:

> “For the mind that is set on the flesh is hostile to God, for it does not submit to God’s law; indeed, it cannot.” (Rom. 8:7)

> “Claiming to be wise, they became fools.” (Rom. 1:22)

For such a person to objectively discern good and evil, let alone attain eternal life, is impossible.

(B) The Only Reasonable Thing Reason Can Do: Suicide

The only reasonable thing reason can do is to admit its own ignorance, abandon its own claims, and humbly come before God to receive grace. But for reason, this is suicide.

This is precisely Paul’s logic of “dying to self and living to God” (Gal. 2:20). It is not that reason is preserved and renewed; rather, the old reason must die, and a new reason arises from resurrection.

Before the fall, God gave Adam a certain rational capacity to tend and keep the garden (Gen. 2:15), but God forbade him from eating of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, forbade him from discerning good and evil for himself, in order to maintain Adam’s absolute submission to God—complete trust in God concerning good and evil, life and death.

The awakening of reason came when man heeded the serpent’s counsel: “You will be like God, knowing good and evil.” That sentence is the mother of human reason. It is an irrational craving for reason. Seizing the power to discern good and evil for themselves, reason is the child of an irrational fall—born of irrationality.

Man’s highest dignity is not his reason but his being made in the image of God. Eternal life is not attained by fallen reason but by God entering His own image and filling it with His own life.

And the life with which God fills man is, in fact, anti-rational—it is to give up one’s own life and trust that giving life leads to receiving life. When a person receives this spiritual truth and lives it out through Jesus Christ, he gains a renewed, divine wisdom and begins to enter into the divine life.

This is a world apart from Anselm’s so-called noble reason.

The difference between human nature and divine nature is the difference between self-preservation and self-giving. Through Jesus, we enter the circle of self-giving love: give life and receive life—this is to partake of the divine nature. To live in the philosophy of self-preservation, fearing death and thus dying—that is merely human.

This is the truth of John 12:24-25:

> “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. Whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life.”

VI. Echoes in Theological History: Methodological Critique and Ontological Continuity

(A) Luther’s Limited Revolution: The Edge of Method, the Continuity of Substance

Martin Luther’s distinction in the 1518 Heidelberg Disputation between the “theologian of glory” (Theologus Gloriae) and the “theologian of the cross” (Theologus Crucis) does indeed strike at Anselm’s method. Luther points out that the theologian of glory seeks to know God “through created things and human works,” while the theologian of the cross knows God “through suffering and the cross.”⁴ From this perspective, Anselm’s attempt to penetrate the mystery of the cross by “necessary reasons” does fall into the trap of autonomous reason.

However, Luther’s revolution is limited to the methodological level. In the substance of soteriology, Luther does not dismantle Anselm’s foundation; he is its most thorough replica.

Anselm understood salvation as “satisfying the debt of God’s honour”; Luther reinterpreted it as “satisfying the penal debt of God’s justice.” The former is a “court of honour,” the latter a “criminal court”—but both share the same unshakeable structural presupposition: God requires an equivalent or substitute to repay some debt, otherwise man cannot be saved. In this framework, the cross remains firmly locked in the iron cage of “juridical necessity”—God must punish sin, Christ must bear the punishment, otherwise God is not just.

This is fundamentally different from the gospel preached by the apostles.

(B) The Neglected Dialectic: The Cross Leads to Glory

The deepest one-sidedness of Luther’s theology is his separation and even opposition between the “cross” and “glory,” as if speaking of glory were a betrayal of the cross. Yet the unbreakable rule of the New Testament narrative is: the cross itself is the way to glory, not the denial of glory.

Hebrews declares that Jesus was “made perfect through suffering” (Heb. 2:10)—here “perfect” does not mean moral completion but the necessary path to accomplish salvation, by which He “sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high” (Heb. 1:3). The Christ-hymn in Philippians follows the same structure:

> “He emptied himself… becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name.” (Phil. 2:7-9)

The cross comes first, then glory; self-giving first, then life; humiliation first, then exaltation. To speak only of the cross and not of glory reduces the cross to mere suffering or a legal tragedy—His death becomes a forced payment, not an active, resurrection-oriented, death-overcoming campaign of glory.

Jesus said: “Unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit” (John 12:24). The “death” of the cross is precisely for “bearing much fruit”—that is glory. The cross itself is not an end but a door.

Now we must return to the most fundamental question: Why did Christ come? What did He actually do on the cross?

Anselm’s answer: Christ came to repay a debt—to repay what man owes to God.

Luther’s answer: Christ came to bear punishment—to suffer in man’s place the penalty of God’s justice.

But Scripture’s answer: Christ came to open the way—He Himself walked it through and then leads many into glory.

Paul’s diagnosis:

> “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” (Rom. 3:23)

“Fall short” is not “debt,” not “lostness,” but “failure to reach.” God set a goal for man—to become perfect, to become a son, to be an heir, to rule the coming world—and man cannot reach it. The “body of death” (Rom. 7:24) is what keeps man from ever hitting the mark.

Therefore, Christ did not come to substitute for man in “reaching” the glory—that is a residue of the “juridical model.” Christ came to lead man into glory—this is the language of the “way model.” He does not stand at the finish line and sign in on man’s behalf; He walks ahead, saying “follow Me,” and leads each one in. He calls them “brothers” (Heb. 2:11), not “debtors,” not “beneficiaries.”

How then does Christ open the way? This is the mystery of salvation:

> God desires perfect men, to be His heirs; to become sons, to rule the coming city.

> All have sinful bodies—where can perfect men be found?

> The Son of God took on a sinful body; by giving Himself, He became perfect.

> Resurrected in glory, He calls all to learn this lesson.

> All who believe may come; when they have learned, they become heirs.

This captures the full dynamic of the biblical narrative of salvation:

1. God’s purpose: God desires perfect men, to be heirs, to become sons, to rule the coming city (Heb. 2:5-8; Rom. 8:17). This is the original intention of creation and the goal of redemption.

2. Man’s predicament: All have sinful bodies—where can perfect men be found? Sin causes all to fall short of God’s glory (Rom. 3:23); the “body of death” becomes an inescapable prison (Rom. 7:24).

3. Christ’s taking on flesh: The Son of God took on a sinful body—not that Christ Himself had sin, but He “became in the likeness of sinful flesh” (Rom. 8:3), truly entering the human condition of “falling short.” He did not take a “sinless human specimen”; He took the same flesh and blood as ours, tempted in every way as we are (Heb. 4:15).

4. Christ’s self-giving: He gave Himself. This self-giving is not “paying the price of death for others,” but in the flesh He fully lived the obedience that man should have lived but never did—complete self-denial, complete trust in the Father, to the point of death, even death on a cross. In the flesh He walked through the way that leads to perfection and glory.

5. Resurrection and glory: He rose and received glory. This is not a “bonus after debt payment,” but the necessary consequence of having walked the way through: the way of obedient self-giving leads to resurrection and glory. He became the “firstfruits” (1 Cor. 15:20), proving that the way can be walked—the goal man “cannot reach,” He reached.

6. Calling to learn: Christ did not walk the way for man and then “air-drop” man to the finish. He walks ahead and calls others to learn. “A disciple is not above his teacher, but everyone when he is fully trained will be like his teacher” (Luke 6:40). Believers are called not to passively accept a “substitute,” but actively to walk the same way—to deny themselves, take up the cross, and follow Him (Matt. 16:24).

7. The outcome: All who believe may come; when they have learned, they become heirs. For all who are led by the Spirit are sons of God; and if sons, then heirs, heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ—provided we suffer with Him in order that we may also be glorified with Him (Rom. 8:17).

In this framework:

– Sin is not “debt,” but “falling short” (Rom. 3:23)

– The body of death is not “an object needing punishment,” but “a prison needing deliverance” (Rom. 7:24)

– Christ’s death is not “repaying a debt,” but “walking through in the flesh the way to glory” (Heb. 2:10; Phil. 2:6-9)

– Salvation is not “debt discharged,” but “being led into glory” (Heb. 2:10; Rom. 8:30)

– Faith is not “accepting a substitute,” but “following the brother who walked through” (Matt. 16:24; Heb. 2:11-12)

Christ is the one who reached the goal. He did not “reach” for us; He leads us to reach—all who follow Him will, like Him, pass through the way of self-giving and arrive at glory.

(D) Final Comparison of the Two Soteriological Models

(E) The Origin of the Entire Modern World

Anselm’s choice is not merely a theological error. It became the default assumption of Western thought for the next millennium, virtually unquestioned to this day.

Descartes’ “I think, therefore I am,” Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason, the “autonomous reason” of the Enlightenment—all these are secular continuations of Anselm’s “noble reason.” The core presupposition of modernity is precisely that fictional, neutral, self-sufficient “rational subject.”⁵

But Scripture declares: there is only a speaking God and a creature who must respond, “Here I am.” Any “reason” that does not start from this relationship is a repetition of Genesis 3—man is eating again from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.

VII. Conclusion: Demolish the Foundation, Not Repair the Roof

The critique presented here is not a “local correction” of Anselm but an ontological clearing.

The cornerstone of Anselm’s entire argument—that “noble reason” which is sanctified and enthroned as arbiter—is, in the biblical narrative, either non-existent from the beginning (at creation man had only relational trust) or a product of sin (autonomous judgment after the fall). It is not a neutral instrument that can be “rightly used”; it is itself a symbol of usurpation.

Thus, Anselm’s use of this “reason” to prove the “rationality” of the gospel is tantamount to:

– Using a fictitious judge to try the real defendant;

– Using a product of sin to guarantee the necessity of salvation;

– Turning the serpent’s promise into the purpose of creation.

This is not merely a theological error; it is idolatry—placing a created concept (reason) above the Creator and making it the measure of the Creator’s actions.

The myth of “noble reason” was exposed already in Genesis 3, and was utterly shamed on the cross.

This essay arrives at a soteriological narrative more ancient and more faithful to Scripture than either Anselm or Luther:

> God desires perfect men, to be His heirs. All have sinful bodies—none can be perfect. The Son of God took on a sinful body; in the flesh He gave Himself, obeyed, died; He rose in glory, and thereby calls all to learn. Believers set out on this road, experiencing the same death, burial, and resurrection, and are finally led into glory.

The starting point of the gospel is not: “Because reason deduces it, therefore Christ had to become man.”

The starting point of the gospel is:

> “For the word of the cross is folly to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.” (1 Cor. 1:18)

Reason must kneel before the cross and confess its own folly.

Because that thing–the so-called noble reason– does not exist.

Notes

1. Anselm of Canterbury, Cur Deus Homo, in Anselm: Basic Writings, trans. S. N. Deane (La Salle, IL: Open Court, 1962), 2.1. All citations of Anselm in this essay are from this edition, with slight translation adjustments.

2. On Anselm’s method of “necessary reasons” (necessitas), see Jasper Hopkins, A Companion to the Study of St. Anselm (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1972), 156-178.

3. On the Hebrew semantics of “knowing good and evil” (יָדַע) in Genesis 3, see Victor P. Hamilton, The Book of Genesis: Chapters 1-17, NICOT (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1990), 195-198. Hamilton notes that יָדַע in Genesis often denotes intimate, relational knowledge rather than abstract cognitive capacity.

4. Martin Luther, Heidelberg Disputation (1518), Thesis 19-21. This essay acknowledges the methodological force of Luther’s critique, but parts ways with him in soteriological substance. On the structural kinship between Luther’s penal substitution and Anselm’s satisfaction theory, see Gustaf Aulén, Christus Victor: An Historical Study of the Three Main Types of the Idea of Atonement, trans. A. G. Hebert (London: SPCK, 1931). Aulén classifies both as the “Latin” (juridical) type, in contrast to the early church’s “classic” (victory) type.

5. On the critique of the modern rational subject from the perspective of the theology of the cross, see Jürgen Moltmann, The Crucified God: The Cross of Christ as the Foundation and Criticism of Christian Theology, trans. R. A. Wilson and John Bowden (New York: Harper & Row, 1974).

Bibliography

– Anselm of Canterbury. Cur Deus Homo. In Anselm: Basic Writings. Translated by S. N. Deane. La Salle, IL: Open Court, 1962.

– Aulén, Gustaf. Christus Victor: An Historical Study of the Three Main Types of the Idea of Atonement. Translated by A. G. Hebert. London: SPCK, 1931.

– Barth, Karl. Anselm: Fides Quaerens Intellectum. Translated by Ian W. Robertson. London: SCM Press, 1960.

– Barth, Karl. Church Dogmatics. Translated by G. W. Bromiley. Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1936–.

– Gunton, Colin E. The Triune Creator: A Historical and Systematic Study. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 1998.

– Hamilton, Victor P. The Book of Genesis: Chapters 1-17. NICOT. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1990.

– Hopkins, Jasper. A Companion to the Study of St. Anselm. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1972.

– Luther, Martin. Heidelberg Disputation. 1518. In Luther’s Works, vol. 31. Edited by Harold J. Grimm. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1957.

– Moltmann, Jürgen. The Crucified God: The Cross of Christ as the Foundation and Criticism of Christian Theology. Translated by R. A. Wilson and John Bowden. New York: Harper & Row, 1974.

– Prenter, Regin. Spiritus Creator. Translated by John M. Jensen. Philadelphia: Muhlenberg Press, 1953.

– Torrance, Thomas F. Karl Barth: An Introduction to His Early Theology, 1910-1931. London: SCM Press, 1962.

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