According to the Christian father Origen, Celsus (/ˈsɛlsəs/; Greek: ΚέΛΣΟς. K�lsos) was a 2nd-century Greek philosopher and opponent of Early Christianity. He is known for his literary work, The True Word (also Account, Doctrine or Discourse; Greek: ΛόΓΟς ἈΛΗ&thΗής), which survives exclusively in Origen's quotations from it in Contra Celsum. This work, c. 177 is the earliest known comprehensive attack on Christianity.According to Origen, Celsus was the author of an anti-Christian work titled The True Word (Alēthēs logos). This work was lost, but we have Origen's account of it in his writings. It was during the reign of Philip the Arab that Origen received this work for rebuttal. Origen's refutation of The True Word contained its text, interwoven with Origen's replies. Origen's work has survived and thereby preserved Celsus' work with it.Celsus seems to have been interested in Ancient Egyptian religion, and he seemed to know of Hellenistic Jewish logos-theology, both of which suggest The True Word was composed in Alexandria. Celsus wrote at a time when Christianity purportedly was being persecuted and when there seems to have been more than one emperor.As an anti-Christian Greek philosopher, Celsus mounted an attack on Christianity. Celsus wrote that some Jews said Jesus' father was a Roman soldier named Pantera. The views of Celsus drew responses from Origen who considered it a fabricated story. Raymond E. Brown states that the story of Pantera is a fanciful explanation of the birth of Jesus which includes very little historical evidence--Brown's analysis does not presuppose the doctrine of the "virgin birth", but cites the lack of historical evidence for Celsus' assertion. In addition, Celsus addressed the miracles of Jesus, holding that "Jesus performed His miracles by sorcery (ΓΟΗΤΕίΑ)".

This book offers an engrossing portrayal of the early years of the Christian movement from the perspective of the Romans.

This book is perhaps one of the most misunderstood works of Catholic theology of our time. Critics contend that von Balthasar espouses universalism, the idea that all men will certainly be saved. Yet, as von Balthasar insists, damnation is a real possibility for anyone. Indeed, he explores the nature of damnation with sobering clarity. At the same time, he contends that a deep understanding of God’s merciful love and human freedom, and a careful reading of the Catholic tradition, point to the possibility—not the certainty—that, in the end, all men will accept the salvation Christ won for all. For this all-embracing salvation, von Balthasar says, we may dare hope, we must pray and with God’s help we must work. The Catholic Church’s teaching on hell has been generally neglected by theologians, with the notable exception of von Balthasar. He grounds his reflections clearly in Sacred Scripture and Catholic teaching. While the Church asserts that certain individuals are in heaven (the saints), she never declares a specific individual to be in hell. In fact, the Church hopes that in their final moments of life, even the greatest sinners would have repented of their terrible sins, and be saved. Sacred Scripture states, “God ... desires all men to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth. For there is one God, and there is one mediator between God and man, the man Christ Jesus, who gave himself as a ransom for all” (1 Tim 2:4–5).

It seems that the wish to benefit all, and to lavish indiscriminately upon the first comer one’s own gifts, was not a thing altogether commendable, or even free from reproach in the eyes of the many; seeing that the gratuitous waste of many prepared drugs on the incurably-diseased produces no result worth caring about, either in the way of gain to the recipient, or reputation to the would-be benefactor. Rather such an attempt becomes in many cases the occasion of a change for the worse. The hopelessly-diseased and now dying patient receives only a speedier end from the more active medicines; the fierce unreasonable temper is only made worse by the kindness of the lavished pearls, as the Gospel tells us. I think it best, therefore, in accordance with the Divine command, for any one to separate the valuable from the worthless when either have to be given away, and to avoid the pain which a generous giver must receive from one who treads upon his pearl,’ and insults him by his utter want of feeling for its beauty.

In this long-awaited book, pre-eminent analytical philosopher Alvin Plantinga argues that the conflict between science and theistic religion is actually superficial, and that at a deeper level they are in concord.