Admiration
Admiration is not approval and it is not flattery. It is the body's recognition that someone else has gotten something right — the chest lifting slightly, the attention turning fully outward, the self briefly content to be the witness rather than the witnessed. Vela reads admiration as one of the social emotions that builds a life: who one admires shapes who one becomes.
Working definition · Esteem or appreciative warmth directed at another person, act, or quality.
5752 passages · 5 Vela essays · in 1 cluster
Vela’s read on this emotion
Admiration is the social emotion most likely to be confused with its weaker cousins. Approval is conditional; admiration is unconditional. Flattery is performed; admiration is involuntary. Envy is the corruption of admiration when the witness cannot bear the other's having gotten it right; admiration itself is the un-corrupted form — the witness content to have seen.
The memoir reads admiration where it is least guarded. Gloria Steinem's *My Life on the Road* tracks the women she came up admiring — Wilma Mankiller, Florynce Kennedy, the organizers whose names did not make the news — and is honest that admiration is what taught her to do the work at all. Trevor Noah's *Born a Crime* writes his mother's admiration-shape as the inheritance: a child learns what counts as a serious life by watching the adult who is leading one. Tara Westover's *Educated* preserves admiration's complications — the long work of admiring teachers and writers who taught her things her family had refused to.
The contemplative literature treats admiration as a discipline of seeing. Augustine of Hippo, writing the *Confessions* in the late fourth century, named admiration of God as the corrective for admiration of the self. Saint-Exupéry's *The Little Prince* turns admiration toward the small and the easily overlooked. The biographical tradition — Plutarch, Boswell, the modern memoir — exists in part to make admiration usable: the admired life rendered specific enough to learn from.
Admiration is not the same as approval, awe, envy, or flattery. Approval is the conditional acknowledgment that someone has met a standard; admiration is the unconditional recognition that they have exceeded one. Awe is the more disproportionate cousin — the witness flooded rather than steadied. Envy is admiration that cannot bear its own subordination. Flattery is the performance of admiration without its substance.
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An essay on how this word lives in language, in the tagged corpus, and in figurative art when curators pair passage with image — not a list of stages, not permission to feel.
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5752 tagged passages
From Augustine: A New Biography (2005)
The Lincoln Memorial is a good place to go to think about Augustine. Nothing we know suggests that Abraham Lincoln was a particularly happy or well-adjusted man. His life was full of failures, personal and professional. His side won a war that it had seized almost every opportunity to lose. But if you go up those steps and enter that space, you find yourself between two panels of words. One contains his Gettysburg Address, the other his second inaugural address. Those short texts have a fiery power that leaps across a century and a half. Go there of a Sunday afternoon and there will always be a half-dozen people standing or sitting quietly in alcoves, just reading those texts, slowly, carefully, from beginning to end, and going off thoughtfully afterwards. Embracing seemingly antithetical propositions at the same time is hard, even when both are true. One reaction to such a puzzle is dismissive reductionism. But Lincoln, like Augustine, confounds us. Deeply flawed people, hated and tolerated and reviled and loved in their own times, are surprisingly capable, if rarely enough, of extraordinary achievements, achievements that have their own flaws hidden within them. Augustine the African bishop had one life, but he wrote books that have had multiple lives since his time. They can still sneak up on the unwary and overwhelm them with insights so persuasive and so beautifully expressed as to seem to defeat all debate. And even if the persuasion is resisted, the persuasiveness and the beauty remain undeniable. Accomplishment like that transcends its moment, is rewritten regularly, and persists because of its ability to remake itself. One might as well describe such transcendence as the mark of a classic, but the category of the classic remains elusive. But there’s another life story of Augustine, one that has not yet been written, that started on August 28, 430, and continues to the present. That is the Augustine who has survived and thrived and had his influence, under various guises.602 And so what became of him? How did Augustine come to us? Let us look harder. Holy men often attract a veneration that they would (or should) deprecate. To take an example Augustine could have known, the first paragraph of the Life of Plotinus by his chief disciple, Porphyry, records an act of rebellion against the philosopher and offers a measure of the distance between master and disciples. Porphyry recounts a subterfuge by which the students managed to have an artist create a portrait of the philosopher, despite Plotinus’s reluctance.603
From The City of God
[1135] In the Hebrew text, Gen. xxv. 7, a hundred and seventy-five years. Chapter 4. --Of the Times of Jacob and His Son Joseph. In the reign of Balaeus, the ninth king of Assyria, and Mesappus, the eighth of Sicyon, who is said by some to have been also called Cephisos (if indeed the same man had both names, and those who put the other name in their writings have not rather confounded him with another man), while Apis was third king of Argos, Isaac died, a hundred and eighty years old, and left his twin-sons a hundred and twenty years old. Jacob, the younger of these, belonged to the city of God about which we write (the elder being wholly rejected), and had twelve sons, one of whom, called Joseph, was sold by his brothers to merchants going down to Egypt, while his grandfather Isaac was still alive. But when he was thirty years of age, Joseph stood before Pharaoh, being exalted out of the humiliation he endured, because, in divinely interpreting the king's dreams, he foretold that there would be seven years of plenty, the very rich abundance of which would be consumed by seven other years of famine that should follow. On this account the king made him ruler over Egypt, liberating him from prison, into which he had been thrown for keeping his chastity intact; for he bravely preserved it from his mistress, who wickedly loved him, and told lies to his weakly credulous master, and did not consent to commit adultery with her, but fled from her, leaving his garment in her hands when she laid hold of him. In the second of the seven years of famine Jacob came down into Egypt to his son with all he had, being a hundred and thirty years old, as he himself said in answer to the king's question. Joseph was then thirty-nine, if we add seven years of plenty and two of famine to the thirty he reckoned when honored by the king.
From A Greek-English Lexicon (Liddell-Scott) (1957)
45. init. b. used to translate the Roman imperium, Plut. Mar. 36, etc.; Αἴγυπτον δήμου Ῥωμαίων ἡγεμονίᾳ προσέθηκα Monum. Ancyr. in Ο. 1. 4040. IV. 1: the reign of the Emperor, Ev. Luc. 3. I. 111. a division of the army under its officer, a command, Plut. Camill. 23. IV. the chief thing, principal part, yy. τῆς τέχνης Diphil. ᾽Απολ. 1. 5. V.a principality, prefecture, LXX (Gen. 36. 30); ἡ Ἰλλυρίδος ἣγ. Hdn. 6. 7 ἡγεμονίδης, 6, -- ἡγεμών, Lxx (2 Macc. 13. 24). γεμονικός, 7, ov, of or for a ἡγεμών, ready to lead or guide, πρός τι Xen. Mem. 2. 3, 143; πρὸς τὰ πονηρά Id. Cyr. 2. 2, 25. II. capable of command, jit to command, authoritative, chief, leading, Lat. princeps, ψυχὴ ἐν τοῖς ἥλιξι mY Id. Symp. 8,16; ἡγ. φύσις Philolaos ap. Stob. Ecl. 1. 8; ἡγεμονικὸς τὴν φύσιν Plat. Phaedr. 252 E; 777. τέχνη Id. Phileb. 55 D; of κατ᾽ ἀρετὴν ay. Arist. Pol. 3.17, 4; τὸ dppev ον τοῦ θήλεος ἡγεμονικώτερον Ib. 1.12, 1; Hy. καὶ πολιτικὸς Bios Ib. 7. 6, 7 :---δγεμονικόν an authoritative principle, Plat. Prot. 352 B; τὸ ἡγεμονικόν the authoritative part of the soul (reason), Zeno ap. Diog. L. 7.159, cf. Plut. 2. 898 F, cf. Cic. N. D. 2. 11:—Adv. --κῶς, like a general, opp. to δεσποτικῶς, Arist. Pol. Fr. 81. 2. used to transl. the Rom. Consularis, Plut. Pomp. 26. ἡγεμόνιος, ov, of or belonging to an ἡγεμών, guiding, ἣ ἣγ. τοῦ λόγου δύναμις Clem. ΑΙ. 133:-ὦ 77y., epith. of Hermes, as the guide of departed souls, elsewhere πομπαῖος, ψυχοπομπός, Ar. Pl. 1159, C. I. 157. 22. ἡγεμονίς, (50s, 4, fem. of ἡγεμών, imperial, πόλις Strabo 372, C. 1. 2721; γῆ App. Civ. 2.65. ἡγεμόσυνα (sc. ἱερά),τά, thank-offerings for safe-conduct, Xen.An. 4.8, 25. ἡγεμών, Dor. ayep—, όνος, 6; also ἡ, Pind. I. 8 (7). 44, Aesch. Sue 722, Aeschin. 24. 24:—one who leads, Lat. dux: and so, in Od., a leader, guide, to Sn the way, ΤΟ. 505.. 15. 310; so ate 5. 14, Soph. Ant. 1017, etc.; my. γονέσθαι τινὶ τῆς ὁδοῦ Hdt. 8. 31, cf. Eur. Hec. 281, Xen. "Mem. I. 3, 43 HY. ποδὸς τυφλοῦ Eur. Phoen. 1616; ἡγεμόνες τοῦ πλοῦ Thuc. 7. 50; of a charioteer, Soph. O.T. 804. 2. one who does a thing first, one who is an authority to others, Lat. princeps, dux, auctor, ἡγεμόνα γίγνεσθαί τινι, like ἡγεῖ- σθαί τινι, to guide one, shew him the way; τοῖς νεωτέροις ny. ἠθῶν χρηστῶν γίγνεσθαι Plat. Lege. 670 Ὁ ; ἡγεμόνα εἶναί τινος to give oc- casion to a thing, be the cause thereof, Xen. Cyr. 1. 5,12, cf. Plat. Lys. 214 A; πόνους τοῦ ζῆν ἡδέως ἡ ἡγεμόνας νομίζετε Xen. Cyr. 1. 5,125 τῆς εἰρήνης Hy. Dem. 233. 15 ; ἀχαριστία πρὸς πάντα τὰ αἰσχρὰ ἡγ. Xen. Ογτ. 1. 2, 7. cf. Plat. Meno 97 Β: ἡγεμόνες leaders of a chorus, C. I. 1584. ad fin., v. Bockh ad 1.
From Vision Quest (1979)
Thuringer is pointing at the ref and trying to get at him, yelling that the whistle was too fast. Sausage is up and between Coach and his dad, trying to shove his dad off the mat. Both benches are paralyzed, but the L.C. fans hoot and jeer. This kind of stuff doesn’t happen very often. Mr. Thuringer realizes right away what an ass he is—you can see it come over his face. He says something to Sausage and Sausage pats him on the back. Instead of just going back and sitting down, he apologizes to Coach and the ref and then to Mash right there on the mat. I can’t hear what he’s saying because the L.C. fans are yelling so loud. But it’s obvious he’s apologizing. The ref raises Mash’s hand and then Mash goes over and puts his arm around Sausage and talks to him and his dad for a few seconds. Then he sprints back to his bench and they mob him joyfully. We all get up and meet Sausage, who is crying and smiling both. Coach Morgan puts his arm around him and takes him behind the bench to fix his nose. Raska and Mike Konigi win, Seeley gets beat by a point in a great match, Schmoozler tears his guy a couple new assholes but can’t pin him, Williamson loses bad, and Kuch is up 5–0 in the first round when I get up and walk behind the bench to loosen up for my match. Carla got here in time to see Schmooz dig a few furrows across the mat with Steve Munker’s head. Schmooz would drive him to his back and almost have him pinned; then Munkers would bridge way up on the back of his head and scoot off the mat. They’d go back to the referee’s position and the same thing would happen. Schmooz would drive hard at the whistle and Munkers would go to his back. Then he’d bridge and Schmooz would drive and off the mat they’d go. It was like a ritual. The crowd loved it. I’d hate to have to trade scalps with Munkers. The back of his head will be all scabs tomorrow. Carla trots over, pats my arm, smiles big, and tells me good luck. Then she goes back to her seat beside Belle. Belle saves her a seat when Carla comes late from work. A couple maladjusted creeps in the L.C. section yell out how cute it is that I have a girlfriend. They really love it when I begin my rope-skipping. A few of the older men hoot and yell out, “Hey, Sugar Ray!” I hear it all. Kuch is about to pin Rance Prokoff, so I whip the rope faster. I reverse the rope a few times and start to blow the air out hard. If they were not so concerned about their guy being smothered by Kuch’s braid, the L.C. crowd would be on my ass for sure.
From Jesus and the Disinherited (1949)
As a matter of fact, while Thurman wrote with great compassion about the difficulties faced by the marginalized peoples whose lives are constantly besieged by the threatening, destructive power of the dominating forces, still this deeply loving and caring pastor of the dispossessed would not back away from the demands of a life of integrity, a life that refuses to give into “fear, hypocrisy and hatred, the three hounds of hell that track the trail of the disinherited.” For he recognized—and he believed Jesus recognized—that no external force, however great and overwhelming, can at long last destroy a people if it does not first win the victory of the spirit against them.” In the light of that perspective it was not surprising that Thurman summarized the essential message of Jesus for the disinherited in these words: “You must abandon your fear of each other and fear only God. You must not indulge in any deception and dishonesty, even to save your lives. Your words must be Yea-Nea; anything else is evil. Hatred is destructive to hated and hater alike. Love your enemy, that you may be children of your father who is in heaven.” Throughout the work Thurman continued to hold his disinherited people to a magnificently (some would say unrealistically—but who defines the real within the mystery of “the inward center”?) high set of expectations. If it is true, as some accounts indicate, that Martin Luther King, Jr. often carried a copy of this text on his many journeys, then there are creative connections along the wall that may exceed even our greatest expectations. Of course, considering the generations-long relationships between the King and Thurman families, Martin likely had the message of these pages etched on his heart. It must have provided an important addition to his own resources when Black people constantly raised with him the question that was most directly articulated in the late 1960s by Stokely Carmichael (later Kwame Touré), that stalwart of the freedom movement who called the nation’s attention to the bold and desperate cry for Black power. Not long before King’s assassination in 1968 Stokely asked with mock innocence, “Dr. King, why do we have to be more moral than white folks?” That question came out of a period when thousands of Black people were leaping away from the American wall and hurling angry, incendiary words and devices into the midst of the nation’s life. When I realized that the first paperback edition of this work appeared in 1969, as the Black fires were only beginning to cool down, I wondered whether a contemporary generation of young people might possibly find any space in their lives for the firmly loving disciplines of the spirit that Thurman (and his friend, Jesus) press forward in this gift of a book.
From A Greek-English Lexicon (Liddell-Scott) (1957)
ἡρώινος, ἡ. ov, -- ἡρωικός, Suid. s. v. Ἡσίοδος. ἡρώιος, a, ον, -- ἡρωικός, Pind. O. 13. 71, N. 7. 68 [with w short by ἥρω, gen. and acc. of same. position]: cf. 7p@os. ἡρωίς, δος, ἡ, -- ἡρωίνη, Pind. P. 11. 13, Call. Fr. 126. TI. as fem. of ἡρωϊκός, Ap. Rh. 1. 1048, Anth. P. 9. 504. 2. (sub. évveatnpis), a nine-yearly festival at Delphi, Plut. 2. 293 B. 3. of heroic verse, Christod. Ecphr. 419. ἡρώισσα, contr. ἡρῷσσα, = ἡρωίνη, Ap. Rh. 4.1309, 1358, C. 1. 1455. ἡρωο-γονία, 7, a poem of Hesiod (cf. Θεογονία), v. Procl. Chrest. p. 9. ἡρωο-γράφος, ov, an Epic poet, Tzetz. ἡρωο-λογέω, (λέγω) to tell of heroes, Strabo 508. ἡἹρωο-λογία, ἡ, a tale of heroes, Anaximand. ap. Ath. 408 B. ἧρῷον, Ion. --ὠΐον, τό, 1. (sub. ἱερόν or ἕδος) the temple or chapel of a hero, such as were dedicated to Adrastus, Hdt. 5. 67, cf. 47, Thuc. 2. 17, etc.; θήρῷον, i,e. τὸ ἡρῷον, Ar. Vesp. 819:—a form ἡρώειον (cited by Hesych.) appears in C. I. 4278 a, ὃ, e, 4418, al. 2. (sub. Hérpov), an hexameter, Plut. Num. 4, etc. 8. ἧρῷα (sc. ἱερά), τά. the festival of a hero, Id. 2. 811 Ὁ. ἡρῷος, a, ov, contr. for ἡρώϊος (q.v.); 6 Hp. (sc. puOpds), the heroic measure, hexameter, Plat. Rep. 400 B, cf. Arist. Rhet. 3. 8, 4; 7p. μέ- Tpov Id. Poét. 24,12; ποὺς Hp. the dactyl, Anth. P. 7. 9, etc. ἥρως, 6, (also ἡ in signf, Ill): gen. ἥρωος (as a dactyl i in Od. 6. 303), but in form ἥρω Dem. 419.22, Paus. 10. 4, 10:—dat. ἥρωϊ, mostly in form npw 1]. 7. 453, Od. 8. 483, Ar. Av. 1485, Plat. Com. Φάων 2, 18, Orac. ap. Dem. 1072. 25 :—acc. ἥρωα Plat. Legg. 738 D, Dem. 288.17 (as a dactyl in Anth. P. append. 376), but mostly in form ἥρω, Plat. Rep. οἱ D, Ap. Rh. 2. 766, etc.; also ἥρων, Hdt. 1.167, Ar. Fr. 283 :— Plur., nom. ἥρωες, rarely contr. ἥρως, as in Ar. Fr. 283, dat. ἥρωσιν Aesch. Fr. 52: acc. ἥρωας, rarely ἥρως as in Id. Ag. 516, Luc. Dem. Enc. 4 :—v. Lob. Phryn. 159. (Cf. Skt. viras, Lat. vir, Goth. vair, Lith. vyras.) In Hom. ἥρως, hero, is a title of honour, given not only to warrior-chiefs, and above all to the Greeks before Troy (ἥρωες Aavaot, ᾿Αχαιοί, Il. 2. 110., 19. 34, 41, 78); but to warriors generally (στίχας ἀνδρῶν ἡρώων Od. τ. ol, etc.) ;—but also to men who had nothing to do with war or command, as in Od. 8. 483 to fue minstrel Demodocus ; in Od. 18, 423 to the herald Mulius (cf. Hdt. 7.134); nay, in Od. ΄. 656
From Martin Luther (2016)
Luther knew how to attract the young: From his time in the monastery, he was used to employing assistants to whom he could delegate. His secretaries Veit Dietrich (who became his confidant during his time in Coburg Castle) and Georg Rörer were both central to transmitting the cult of Luther’s memory after his death. Of the rising generation he trusted Caspar Cruciger as an excellent theologian, and in 1539 Luther nominated him to be his successor. He is “absolutely outstanding,” he declared, a model “on whom I’m relying after my death.” 26 — S UCH praise and support, however, could be withdrawn the moment Luther was displeased, and opponents mocked the bitter divisions caused by his willingness to turn on friends and allies. A long series of public and painful ruptures punctuated the 1530s and ’40s and the centrality of Luther to the movement made these enmities existential for the Reformation. 27 In 1537, for example, it was the turn of Johannes Agricola, one of Luther’s closest and most long-standing followers. Agricola came from the Harz region and had close ties with Luther’s friends and relatives in Mansfeld. Luther dubbed him “Mr. Eisleben” after his parish, the town where both men were born. They had fought the early battles of the Reformation shoulder to shoulder, Agricola acting as Luther’s secretary in the Leipzig Debate. He may even have lit the famous fire in 1520 at the Elster Gate where the bull was burned. Though Luther was a decade older, Agricola had married in 1520, five years before him, and he was among the first Luther told about the birth of his son Hans. 28 Their children overlapped in age, and for many years the letters between them discussed their wives’ pregnancies and childcare. 29 When Agricola’s wife fell ill, she came to Wittenberg to stay with Katharina, Agricola confiding to Luther that she was sick “in spirit, not body, and no apothecary can help.” 30 Yet in 1528, at the height of the dispute with Karlstadt, Luther heard that Agricola was preaching the erroneous idea that faith could exist without good works, and wrote him a stern warning about dressing up such nonsense in fine rhetoric and Greek words: “watch out for Satan and your flesh.” 31 A year later, however, when Agricola got into trouble with a collection of German proverbs, a book to which he would continue to add for the rest of his life, Luther was supportive once more. Concealed in this apparently harmless work were some disparaging remarks about Duke Ulrich of Württemberg, who had been ejected by the Swabian League and the Habsburgs, and had become a follower of the Reformation. Ludwig von Passavant, a nobleman in Ulrich’s entourage, noticed the remarks, and attacked Agricola very publicly. 32 The hapless Agricola discovered he had alienated not only Ulrich, but Albrecht of Mansfeld and Philip of Hesse to boot, major evangelical princes.
From A Greek-English Lexicon (Liddell-Scott) (1957)
καλός, 7, dv, Aeol. κάλος, a, ov: (v. infr. F) :—beautiful, beauteous, fair, Lat. pulcher, of outward form, κάλλιστος ἀνὴρ ὑπὸ Ἴλιον ἦλθεν Il. 2.673; but when used of men, mostly in the phrase καλός Te μέγας Te; also, μέγας καὶ x. Od. 9. 5133 So of women, καλή τε μεγάλη TE 13. 289., 15. 418; and of places, αὐλὴ καλή τε μ. TE 14. 7; καλὸς δέμας beautiful of form, 17. 307; so in Prose, εἶδος κάλλιστος Xen. Cyr. I. 2,1; καλὺς τὸ σῶμα Id. Mem. 2. 6, 30; τὴν ὄψιν Theopomp. Hist. ap. Ath. 517 E; so, καλὸς ἰδέᾳ Pind. O. Io (11). 123; also, χορῷ καλή beauteous in the dance, 1]. 16. 180; κάλλιστος .. ποικίλμασιν ἠδὲ μέγιστος 6. 294, Od. 15. 107; also c. inf., «. εἰσοράασθαι etc., Hom. ; ἐσορᾶν x, Pind. O. 8. 25; καλλίονες καὶ μείζονες εἰσοράασθαι Od. το. 396 :—also of parts of the body, clothes, arms, etc., πρύσωπα, ὄμματα, παρήϊα, ὦμοι, etc.; εἵματα, papea, χιτών, χλαῖνα, πέδιλα, etc.; φάσ- γανον, σάκος, ἀσπίς, κόρυς ; of buildings and the like, δῶμα, τεῖχος, ἅμαξα, τράπεζα, θρόνος, κρήνη, πόλις, τέμενος, ἀγρός, etc. 2. in Att. 6 καλός is often subjoined to the name of a person, ᾿Αλκιβιάδης ὃ καλός, Σαπφὼ ἡ καλή Plat. Ale. 1. 113 B, Phaedr. 235 C; hence, lovers used to write the name of those they loved on walls, trees, etc., ὁ δεῖνα καλός, ἡ δεῖνα καλή, v. Interpp. ad Ar. Ach. 144, Vesp. 98, Creuzer Plotin. de Pulchr. p. 97:—so, ἡ Καλή or Καλλίστη was a name of Artemis, Aesch. Ag. 140, Paus. 1. 29, 2, C. I. 4445; v. sub Καλ- λιστώ. 8. τὸ καλόν, like κάλλος beauty, Eur. I. A. 21, etc.: τὰ καλά the decencies, proprieties, elegancies of life, Hdt. τ. 8, 207, Pind. O. I. 134, etc.; τὰ ἐν ἀνθρώποις καλά, etc., v. Schneid. Xen. Cyr. 7. 2, 13. 11. in reference to use, like ἀγαθός, beautiful, fair, good, x. λιμήν Od. 6. 263; ἀνέμῳ .. καλῷ 14. 253, 299 :---καλὸς εἴς τι Xen. Cyr. 3. 3, 6; mpds τὶ Plat. Hipp. Ma. 295 C, Gorg. 474 D, etc.; c. inf., κάλλιστος τρέχειν Xen. An. 4.8, 26 ;—esp. in the foll. phrases; ἐν καλῷ [τόπῳ] in a good place, Ar. Thesm. 292, Xen. Hell. 2. 1, 25; ἐν καλῷ τοῦ κόλπου, τῆς πόλεως Ib. 6. 2, 9. etc.; also, ἐν καλῷ in a favourable place, or under favourable circumstances, Thuc. 5. 59, 60; ἐν x. (sub. χρόνῳ), in good time, in season, Eur. 1. A. 1106, Xen., etc.; ἐν καλῷ [ἐστί], c. inf., Soph. El. 384; (so, καλόν ἐστι, c. inf., Id. Ph. 1155, Ar. Pax 278, Thuc. 8. 2) ;—so also, eis καλόν Soph. O. T. 78, Plat. Meno 89 E; εἰς κάλλιστον Soph. O. T. 78, εἴς. 2. of sacrifices, good, auspicious (v. καλλιερέω), ἱερά Aesch. Theb. 379; οἰωνοί Eur. Ion 1333; τὰ τοῦ θεοῦ καλά all sacred duties are rightly performed, Ar. Pax 868 ; κ. TO τέλος τῆς ἐξόδου Xen. An. 5. 2,9; καλὰ ἣν τὰ ἱερὰ αὐτῷ Id. Cyr. 3.2,33 ¢. inf, ἱέναι: καλὰ τὸ ἱερὰ ἣν Id. An. 2. 2, 3; for Hell. 1. 1, 23, v. sub KaAor. III. in a moral sense, beautiful, noble, Lat. pulcher, honestus, in Hom. only in neut., οὐ καλὸν ἔειπας Od., cf. 17. 381; μεῖζον κλέος .. καὶ κάλλιον 18. 255; often, καλόν [ἐστι] c. inf., καλόν τοι σὺν ἐμοὶ τὸν κήδειν, ὅς κέ με κήδῃ 1]. 9. 615 (611); οὐ γὰρ ἔμοιγε καλόν (sc. ἄρχειν) 21.440; οὐ καλὸν ἀτέμβειν, οὐδὲ δίκαιον Od. 20. 2943 so in Att., καλόν μοι τοῦτο ποιούσῃ θανεῖν Soph. Ant. 72, etc.; and in Comp., οὐ μέν τοι τόδε κάλλιον, οὐδὲ ἔοικε Od. 7. 159, cf. 1]. 24. 52:—often in later writers, καλὰ ἔργματα noble deeds, Pind. I. 4. 71 (3. 60); also, τὰ καλά Id. O. 13. 64, Soph. Fr. 675, etc.; also noble qualities, Xen, Symp. 8, 17. 2. τὸ καλόν moral beauty, virtue, opp. to τὸ αἰσχρόν (Cicero’s honestum and turpe), Xen. Mem. 1.1, τύ, Plat. Symp. 183 Ὁ, 201 E, Lys. 216 C, al.; τὸ καλὸν φίλον honour is dear, Theogn. 17, cf. Eur. Bacch. 881, Supp. 300, I. A. 22. 3. this sense is used of men by Classical writers only in the phrase καλὸς κἀγαθός, v. sub καλοκἀγαθός. IV. in Att. not seldom ironically, like Lat. praeclarus, fine, fair, admirable, specious, "γέρας x. Aesch. Eum., 209 ; Kk. yap οὑμὸς βίοτος, ὥστε θαυμάσαι Soph. El. 393, cf. Elmsl. Bacch. 652 ; a. χάρις, ὕβρις Dem. 128. 2., 660. 20; Kat σοι .. θωπεῦσαι καλόν Soph. O. C. 1003; μετ᾽ ὀνομάτων καλῶν Thuc. 5. 89: v. infr. καλῶς 8.
From Martin Luther (2016)
One of the reasons may lie in the fact that when he arrived in 1511, there was a group of academics all about the same age, creating more of a level playing field. In addition to Lang, there was Andreas Karlstadt, three years younger, but his academic senior and the man who conferred his doctorate on him. The professor of law, Hieronymus Schurff, was just two years older; Wenzeslaus Linck, prior of the Wittenberg monastery from 1511 to 1515, gained his doctorate in 1511, a year before Luther. Nikolaus von Amsdorf, Staupitz’s nephew and a highly competent dialectician, was just a few months younger; he taught in the philosophy faculty but soon switched to theology. Although they all taught different subjects, they formed a cohesive peer group; many of them shared a similar formation and several were Augustinians living together in the Wittenberg monastery, which housed about forty monks. 40 Another reason for Luther’s rise may have been the effect of his forceful personality in what was still a minor institution. Even in 1536, there were only twenty-two faculty posts at Wittenberg: four each in theology and law, three in medicine and eleven in the arts. 41 Karlstadt, for one, was profoundly influenced by his erstwhile junior colleague and new friend, and rapidly absorbed his ideas. In 1516 Luther’s student Bartholomäus Bernhardi gave a disputation, part of the customary academic training, and advanced some of Luther’s ideas on grace developed in the lectures on Romans; in its course, Luther publicly stated that he did not believe St. Augustine was the author of the treatise attributed to him, De vera et falsa poenitentia . Karlstadt vigorously disagreed and immediately procured his own copy from Leipzig. But on rereading the text he decided that Luther was correct, and he began to be influenced by Luther’s understanding of Augustine. 42 Both radical and passionate, Karlstadt easily got lost in the thread of his own thought and needed direction: Luther’s intensity seems to have unleashed his creativity, sparking him to rethink all his intellectual and spiritual positions. Schurff, more cautious by nature, was also captivated, perhaps because Luther was able to articulate the desperation and sense of sinfulness he too had felt. Luther clearly had an intellectual drive that drew others to him, in part because they recognized their own ideas in what he argued. He was intellectually independent and decisive, and could communicate complex opinions with passion.
From Martin Luther (2016)
It was the insecurity of the monks, Günzburg argued, that shackled the nuns’ intellectual and devotional capacities, “for coarse, unlearned, foolish monks are assigned to the convents; for them it would be painful if the nuns know more than they do, and so they don’t tolerate those who are more knowledgeable than they are. This they justify under the cover of claiming that studying is not appropriate for nuns, that it places obstacles in the way of humility, piety, and so on.” Like Luther, he thought that convents would only deform a young woman’s desires and development. He understood, too, the bitterness of relationships in a closed institution: “If she has a vindictive abbess or prioress or if she angers a sister especially beloved by her superiors, she will never have rest or peace.” 43 For a time, excited by the radical potential of the Reformation, Günzburg became a supporter of Karlstadt, but without losing his original admiration for Luther. This drew him to Wittenberg, where he spent 1522–23, and in the end he returned to the Lutheran fold. He eventually found a position with the duke of Wertheim, at first preaching in the small village of Remlingen, and then in Wertheim itself. He lost his post when the duke died in 1530, and his later years were tough. His health broken, he spent his remaining years ministering in the small parish of Leutershausen, mired in controversy; he died in 1533. A man who would have expected to spend his life in a monastery, all his physical needs catered for, Günzburg ended up an author, traveler, father, and convinced evangelical. For him the Reformation meant the liberation of the monks, the freeing of nuns from a tyranny and perverted sexuality, and the possibility of a new world of social justice. Luther was a hero whose life had inspired and transformed his own. Argula von Grumbach, a lay noblewoman in Ingolstadt married to a knight, and mother of four children, also had her life turned upside down by Luther’s message. In the early 1520s, she devoured his writings and read his translation of the New Testament. When in 1523 the university in Ingolstadt started proceedings against a Lutheran student, she was outraged and determined to take up the student’s cause. She wrote a letter in his support and had it published. 44 It was a runaway success, published in fourteen editions in just two months, and it made her famous. Her convictions gave her the courage to override all the contemporary expectations of what a woman could and could not do. She corresponded with Luther himself and in 1530 she even met him in the castle at Coburg. It was doubtless her social status as a member of the noble Staufen family that enabled her to become Luther’s friend—she belonged to the social group Luther had always cultivated.
From Martin Luther (2016)
The Franciscans arrived in Eisenach at about this time, and Elisabeth was devoted to them. A wonderfully subversive figure, she rejected the power and ostentation of the counts, coming down from the castle to spend her time in the town below with the down-and-outs, tending the sick and promoting the building of hospitals. There were many legends surrounding her. One time, when her husband was away, she let a leper sleep in his bed. Understandably annoyed when he heard about it on his return, he pulled back the cover only to discover that an image of the Cross was imprinted on the sheets. When Ludwig died on crusade, however, his brother Heinrich von Raspe stepped in as regent, and banished Elisabeth from the castle; she was forced to seek shelter with the Franciscans, who hid her. 21 In fact, there is no historical evidence for Heinrich’s cruelty, and Elisabeth later seems to have moved to Marburg of her own volition where she practiced ascetic works. Indeed, she proved a huge asset to the dynasty, and Heinrich himself founded a church in her memory. Elisabeth would remain important in Luther’s life. Years later, he could still rattle off her biography, giving her date of birth and age at death. 22 He never spoke disrespectfully of her, even when other saints became the target of his invective; he also named his first daughter Elisabeth. Eisenach’s reputation as a spiritual town was enhanced, too, through tales of extravagant penances and of powerful figures humbled by sudden spiritual conversion. Hermann, Baron Dreffurt, who had led a life of robbery, whoring, and violence, headed to Eisenach to become a Franciscan monk when he saw the error of his ways in 1329. Before he died nearly twenty years later he insisted on being buried at the place “where the schoolboys had their toilet.” 23 But there was a downside to this febrile spirituality: Both Luther and Melanchthon recalled seeing in Eisenach the worst example of a moving statue. 24 These were statues of saints made with adjustable parts that were intended to fool the credulous into believing that they moved miraculously, inclining their eyes or interacting with the believer. They were part of the devotional culture designed to inculcate powerful emotions in the worshipper, but they also offered a ready target for the skeptical. When Luther arrived, he had to beg for his supper. The young lad had a good voice, and sang in the choir, a gift that could be put to use in begging; it would later flourish in his abilities as a preacher and in the hymns that he composed. Begging was common—for Franciscan monks, forbidden to own property, it was godly work to ask for alms—and it was usual for schoolboys to do the same to pay for their upkeep.
From The Battle for God (2000)
But, true to the conservative ethos, the perfection that he envisaged was not an evolution to a new and higher state, but a return to the original pure vision of Abraham and the other prophets. It was also a return to God, the Source of all existence. But this did not mean that the mystic abjured the world. In The Four Journeys of the Soul, he described the mystical journey of a charismatic political leader. First, he must journey from man to God. Next he travels in the divine sphere, contemplating each of God’s attributes until he arrives at an intuitive sense of their indissoluble unity. Gazing thus on the face of God, he is transformed and has a new perception of what monotheism really means and an insight that is not unlike that enjoyed by the Imams. In his third journey, the leader travels back to humankind, and finds that he now sees the world quite differently. His fourth and final quest is to preach God’s word in the world and to find new ways to institute the divine law and reorder society in conformity with God’s will. 50 It was a vision that linked the perfection of society to a simultaneous spiritual development. The establishment of justice and equity here below could not be achieved without a mystical and religious underpinning. Mulla Sadra’s vision fused politics and spirituality, which had become separate in Twelver Shiism, seeing the rational effort that was essential for the transformation of society in the mundane world as inseparable from the mythical and mystical context that gave it meaning. Mulla Sadra had thus proposed a new model of Shii leadership, which would have a profound impact upon Iranian politics in our own day. The mystical political leader of Mulla Sadra’s vision would have divine insight, but that did not mean that he could impose his own opinions and religious practice on others by force. If he did that, in Sadra’s view, he denied the essence of religious truth. Sadra was vehemently opposed to the growing power of the ulema, and was especially disturbed by a wholly new idea that was gaining ground in Iran during the seventeenth century. Some ulema now believed that most Muslims were incapable of interpreting the fundamentals (usul) of the faith for themselves; because the ulema were the only official spokesmen of the Hidden Imam, ordinary folk must, therefore, select a mujtahid who had been deemed capable of exercising ijtihad (“independent reasoning”) and model their behavior on his legal rulings. Sadra was appalled by these claims of the Usulis, as the proponents of this view were called. 51 In his view, any religion that was based on such servile imitation (taqlid) was inherently “polluted.” 52 All Shiis were quite capable of understanding the traditions (akhbar) of the Prophets and the Imams, and could work out solutions for themselves, based on reason and the spiritual insights they derived from prayer and ritual.
From Martin Luther (2016)
This was the religion of the Lutheran Bible. The painting was not displayed in church but Dürer donated it to Nuremberg’s town council, in homage to one of the first cities to have introduced the Reformation, in 1524. Like the peasants, Dürer used the word freedom to encapsulate Luther’s message. He hoped for a future where all, “Turks, heathens and Calicutts [Indians], may turn to us.” He saw Luther as a man who preached “clear and transparent doctrine,” and who helped people become “free Christians.” But Dürer does not seem to have made much of the corresponding concept of the absolute sinfulness of man, and where Luther looked inward, praising his fellow Germans over the hated Italians, Dürer was a citizen of Nuremberg, open to global commerce and exchange, who knew how much he had learned from his journeyman years in Italy. He also collected objects from around the world—feathers, weapons, “Indian cocoanuts and a very fine piece of coral,” curiosities of all kinds that found their way into his art. 42 Luther, by contrast, barely ever mentioned Africa, India, or the New World, either in his writings or his conversations. While he envisaged the Reformation as the struggle of the true Christians against the Pope and the Devil, for Dürer it meant the future coming together of all the religions and people of the world in peaceful unity. For Johann Eberlin von Günzburg, a Franciscan monk in southern Germany, Luther’s central message was his attack on monasticism. His three heroes were Erasmus, Luther, and Karlstadt, the trio who battled the monks and priests. Convinced that evangelical freedom must mean social liberation, he imagined a fictional land, Wolfaria, where there would be social justice and support for those in need. He wrote a series of pamphlets in support of the Reformation, the most famous of which was The Fifteen Confederates, where fifteen characters from various social estates explained why they supported Luther. When it came to monasticism, Günzburg wrote with extraordinary insight. It is probable that he had acted as confessor to a convent. His work went far beyond Luther’s simple insistence that nuns were sexual beings subject to lust, and he diagnosed what he saw as their miserable lives and twisted spirituality.
From Martin Luther (2016)
8 The friendship between the two men began when Karlstadt rushed to Leipzig in the middle of winter, on January 13, 1517, to buy a copy of Augustine so that he could refute Luther’s claims, only to discover that Luther was right to reject scholasticism. It seems originally to have unleashed intellectual energy and creativity on both sides. Karlstadt now attacked scholasticism with vigor in a set of theses in April 1517, setting out a theology based on Augustine and criticizing the use of Aristotle’s metaphysics. 9 Luther, for his part, wrote his theses against scholasticism under Karlstadt’s influence, and his first ringing declaration, “To say that Augustine exaggerates in speaking against heretics is to say that Augustine tells lies almost everywhere,” is a clear adaptation of one of Karlstadt’s theses. 10 In turn, Karlstadt’s support for his ideas evidently emboldened Luther, especially since his fellow Augustinian friends Linck and Lang were decidedly more cautious about his emerging theology. Indeed, from mid-1517 on Luther began to talk of “our theology,” and soon would speak of “us Wittenberg theologians.” 11 Karlstadt did not at first share Luther’s opposition to indulgences—perhaps, as some have suggested, because he could see that their abolition would lead eventually to the collapse of the All Saints foundation and his own income. On the other hand, he took a firm line against the veneration of saints far earlier than Luther did, daring to make his views public despite the important role that the Elector’s collection of relics played in the town, not least in bringing pilgrims whose money was vital to the financial health of the foundation. 12 Moreover, study in Rome had left him with a powerful anti-Roman animus. He had, for example, been quick to advise the Elector that new arrangements for benefices at All Saints must build in independence from the papacy or else Friedrich might find that Rome and its “courtesans” would seize control. His extreme anti-Romanism may have rubbed off on Luther, whose own negative experience of Rome had been neither as extensive nor as disillusioning. The first strains in their friendship emerged at Leipzig in 1519. Although Karlstadt had been Eck’s original target, the final theses for debate scarcely hid the fact that Luther was the real antagonist. During the negotiations about where and how the debate was to be held, Luther corresponded directly with Eck, making no bones about the fact that he and Eck were the ones who counted. Moreover, all observers agreed that Karlstadt had the worst of the debate. Where Luther’s and Karlstadt’s theology converged was in their admiration for the Theologia deutsch and the mystic Johannes Tauler.
From Martin Luther (2016)
Luther may well have picked up humanist ideas through Lang, and together they brought the new biblical humanism, critical of scholasticism and determined to return to the original texts, to university teaching. 30 Yet this was not a friendship of equals. Although Luther was probably only four years older, the younger man’s admiration for him was evident from the beginning, and Luther did not mince his words when, in 1517, sending him the Ninety-five Theses, he felt Lang did not understand his new theological direction. 31 Luther’s position at the university, which he had inherited from Staupitz and would hold until his death, was professor of the Bible, and it required him to lecture on Scripture, hold disputations, and preach to students and members of the university. 32 He undertook the task with gusto, lecturing first on the Psalms. Using the new technology of printing when he lectured on Romans in 1515–16, he had the university printer, Johann Rhau-Grunenberg, set the Vulgate text in double-spaced format, with generous margins on all sides. In his lectures Luther then read out his glosses and emendations to the text, based on the more up-to-date editions of Faber Stapulensis and Erasmus’s edition of Lorenzo Valla’s text; the students would insert them into their individual copies. Luther would expound the meaning of the text, working from notes he had prepared but sometimes speaking extempore. 33 Johann Oldecop, later an opponent of the Reformation, recalled how well Luther explained biblical passages, not using Latin but German. 34 This style of lecturing, which engaged closely with the text, would have given the students an almost tactile experience of encountering Scripture and working with it themselves. 18., 19., and 20. Three woodcuts from 1578 illustrate the rituals involved at Wittenberg, showing the blackened faces and horned fools’ caps of the initiates. The ceremonial tools—gilded saw, pliers, ax, brush, bell, and the like—have survived from the University of Leipzig. The rituals, which also involved a mock confession, are clearly parodies of religious ceremonies, yet Luther supported their retention. Just as Staupitz joked that Luther needed the Devil, so Luther never frowned upon a ritual that captured something of the state of utter sinfulness of the Christian—and in this case, the university initiate. It was also transforming Luther.
From A Greek-English Lexicon (Liddell-Scott) (1957)
Βου-ζύγης, 6, epith. of an Attic hero, who first yoked oxen, Hesych. ; Hercules, acc. to Suid. :—also the man who kept the bullocks at Eleusis, Inscr. Att. in C. I. 491.—Cf. Eupol. Any. 7 and 34. Βουζύγιος (sc. apotos), 6, a harvest festival at Athens, Plut. 2.144 B; also τὰ Βουζύγια, Philo 2. 630:—B. dpa Clem. Al. 181. 32 Sylb., v, Valck. Hdt. 7. 231. Bov-Oepys, és, affording summer-pasture, λειμών Soph. Tr. 188. Bov-Sotvys, ov, 6, beef-eater, epith. of Hercules, Anth, Plan. 123. βου-θόρος, ov, vaccas iniens, ταῦρος Aesch. Supp. 301. βου-θρέμμων, ovos, 6, %, feeding cattle, πόα Manass. Chron. 84: a herdsman, Ib. 6126. βουθῦσία, ἡ, the sacrifice of oxen, C. 1. 2336. 10., 5853. 11, Anth. P. 7.119; Ἥρας in her honour, Pind. N. ro. 42; in pl., Id. Ο. 5. 12. βου-θὕτέω, to slay or sacrifice oxen, Soph. O. C. 888, Eur. El. 785, etc. : generally ¢o sacrifice or slaughter, B. ὗν καὶ τράγον καὶ κριόν Ar. Pl. 819; Tas θυσίας τὰς καθηκούσας C. 1. 108. 5. βου-θύτης [Ὁ]. ov, 6, sacrificing oxen, Suid., ν. 1. Ath. 660 A. βού-θῦτος, ov, of or belonging to sacrifices, esp. of oxen, τιμαί Aesch. Supp. 706; ἡδονή Eur. Ion 664. 2. on which oxen are offered, sacrificial, ἑστία Soph. O. C. 1495; ἐσχάρα Ar. Av. 1232; ἦμαρ, ἡμέρα Aesch. Cho. 261, Eur. Hel. 1474. βουκαῖος, ὁ, (Bovros) Lat. bubulcus, a cowherd, Nic. Th. 5. II. one who ploughs with oxen, Theocr. 10.1, 57, Nic. Fr. 35. βουκανάω, βουκανισμός, v. sub Bux-. βου-κάπη, ἡ, an ox stall, Hesych. βου-κάπηλος, ov, 6, a cattle-dealer, Poll. 7. 185. Βουκάτιος, 6, a Delphic month, C. 1.1702, Curt. Anecd. p. 29. Bov-Kévrys, ov, 6, a goader of oxen, ox-driver, Diogenian, 7. 86. βού-κεντρον, τό, an ox-goad, Greg. Naz. βουκέραος, ov, -- βούκερως, Nonn. D. 14. 319. βούκερας, τό, a plant, perh. fenugreek, Theophr. H.P.8.8,5, Nic. Al. 424. βού-κερως, wy, gen. w, horned like an ox or cow, Hdt. 2. 41; B. παρ- θένος, of Io, Aesch. Pr. 588. II.=foreg., Diosc. 2. 124. βουκεφάλιον, τό, an ox-head, Lys. Fr. 18. βου-κέφἄλος, ov, bull-headed, epith. of certain Thessalian horses, τὸν βουκέφαλον καὶ κοππατίαν Ar. Fr. 135 :—Bovkepddas, gen. -α, the horse of Alexander the Great, Strabo 698, Plut. Alex. 61. βουκινίζω, Lat. buccino, to blow the trumpet, στρόμβοις Sext. Emp. M. 6. 243 also βυκανίζω or -wifw, Eust. 1321. 33, etc.: βουκινάτωρ, 6, buccinator, C. 1. 5187 δ. 8. βουκολέω, Dor. βωκ-: (βουκόλος) :—to tend cattle, ἕλικας βοῦς βουκολέεσκες (Ion. impf.), Il. 21. 448:—Med., βουκολεῖσθαι αἶγας Eupol. Αἶγ. 25 :—Pass. of cattle, to range the fields, graze, ἕλος κάτα βουκολέοντο, of horses (cf. ἱπποβουκόλος), Il. 20. 221; metaph. of meteors, to range through the sky, Call. Del. 176. 2. of persons, βουκολεῖς Σαβάζιον you tend, serve him (perhaps with allusion to his tauriform worship), Ar. Vesp. 10; also in Med., μὴ πρόκαμνε, τόνδε U II. 290
From A Greek-English Lexicon (Liddell-Scott) (1957)
ἀρίζηλος, ov, also 7, ov, v. infr.:—Ep. for ἀρίδηλος (v. Ζζ. Il. 2), con- spicuous, remarkable, Lat, insignis, of the light of a star, ἀρίζηλοι δέ οἱ avyai Il. 13. 244, cf. Pind. O. 2.101; of the sound of a voice, ὡς δ᾽ ὅτ᾽ ἀριζήλη φωνή Il. 18. 219, cf. 221; of persons whom all admire, ὥστε θεώ περ, ἀμφὶς ἀριζήλω 18.519; so Hes. Op. 6, peta δ᾽ ἀρίζηλον μινύθει, καὶ ἄδηλον ἀέξει :---Αἀν., ἀριζήλως εἰρημένα a plain tale, Od. 12. 453 :—for Il. 2. 318, v. sub ἀΐζηλος. ΤΙ. (ζῆλοΞ) -- ἀριζή- Awros, only in Hesych. ἀρι-ζήλωτος, ov, much to be envied, Ar. Eq. 1329; -ζἤλητος in Orac. ap. Eus. P. E. 413 C. ἀρι-ἤκοος, ov, much heard of, Call. Del. 308. hearing readily, Ap. Rh. 4. 1707. ἀριθμᾶτός, dv, Dor. for ἀριθμητός. ἀριθμέω : impf. as ἠρίθμεον as trisyll., Od. Io. 204, 3 sing. ἠρίθμει 13. 218: fut. ἥσω Plat.: aor. ἠρίθμησα, etc.:—Med., aor. ἠριθμησάμην Plat. Phaedr. 270 D:—Pass., fut. med. in pass. sense ἀριθμήσομαι Eur. Bacch. 1318, fut. ἀριθμηθήσομαι Lxx, Galen.: Ep. aor. inf. ἀριθμη- θήμεναι (for —pvac) Il. 2. 124. To number, count or reckon up, Od. 4. 411, Pind. N. Io. 85, etc.; αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ δίχα πάντας .. ἑταίρους ἠρίθμεον counted them so as to halve them, Od. 10. 2043; ἀριθμήσαντες after num- bering the army, Hdt. 7. 60; οὐδεὶς πώποτ᾽ .. ἠρίθμησε stopped to count the enemy, Ar. Eq. 570;—poét., ἀριθμήσεις γαῖαν ἀπειρεσίην = μετρήσει, Anth, P. 11. 349:—Pass., Hdt. 6. 111., 9. 32:—in Thuc. 3. 20, the Med. ἠριθμοῦντο, they got the courses of bricks counted, is followed by ἀριθμοῦντες. 2. to count out, and so to pay, τὸ χρυσίον, ἀργύριον Xen. Symp. 4, 44, Dem. 1192. fin. 3. to reckon, account, ἐν εὐεργεσίας μέρει Dem. 568.5; ἀρ. τινα κλυτόπαιδα Anth. P. 9. 262; κέρδος τι ἀρ. Dio Chr. p. 649:—Pass. to be reckoned, ἔν τισι Eur. Hel. 729; ἐν γράμμασι Luc. Jud. Voc. 2; εἴς τινας Hdn. 1.1; also, ἀριθμεῖ- σθαι τῶν φιλτάτων as one of .., Eur. Bacch.1318; μακάρων Theocr. 13.72. ἀρίθμημα, τό, a reckoning, number, τῶν πάλων Aesch. Eum. 753. ἀρίθμησις, ews, 7, a counting, reckoning up, Hdt. 2.143: a counting out, payment of money, C. I. 2058 B. 36. ΤΙ. -- ἀριθμητική, 7, Hipp. Epist. ἀριθμητέος, a, ov, verb. Adj. to be reckoned, counted, Hipp. 1031 B. 2. ἀριθμητέον, one must reckon, count, Theophr. Fr. 3. 3. ἀριθμητής, οὔ, 6, a calculator, Plat. de Just. 373 B. ἀριθμητικός, 7, ov, of or for reckoning, skilled therein, ἄνθρωπος Plat. Gorg. 453 E; ἀναλογία Arist. Eth. N. 2.6, 7: ἡ ἀριθμητιισή (sc. τέχνη) arithmetic, Plat. Rep. 525 A, al.; ἀριθμητική without Art., Id. Gorg. 450 Ὁ; ἡ ἀρ. ἐπιστήμη Plut. 2.979 E; cf. λογιστικός 1. Adv. --κῶς, Plut. 2. 643 6.
From A Greek-English Lexicon (Liddell-Scott) (1957)
ἔπαινός, 77, dv, used by Hom. Il. 9. 457, 569, Od. 10. 491, 534.5 11. 47: and Hes. Th. 768, but only in fem. (ἐπαινὴ Περσεφόνεια) as epith. of the goddess when mentioned in connection with Hades, and so in Luc. Nec. 9 with Hecate, (for, otherwise, she is ἀγαυή, etc.) —Commonly taken as strengthd. for αἰνή, exceeding awful, dread; but this Buttm. (Lexil. v. aivos 3) rejects as contrary to analogy, and reads divisim, ἔπ᾽ aiv7 Tlep- aepovera dread Persephoné besides. Others regard it as short for ἐπαι- vetn, euphem., like ἀμύμων, etc-—No masc. or neut. is found. ἐπαινουμένως, Adv. part. pres. pass. praiseworthily, Diod. τό. 88. ἐπαιονάω, to bathe (trans.), Ath. 41 B:—Med. ¢o bathe (intr.), Nic. Al. 463. ἐπαίρω, lon, and poét. ἐπαείρω Hdt. 1. 204 and always in Hom.: fut. ἐπᾶρῶ :—aor. ἐπῆρα Hdt. 1. 87, Att. :—Pass., aor. ἐπήρθην. part. ἐπαρ- θείς. To lift up and set on, [αὐτὸν] ἀμαξάων ἐπάειραν lifted and set him upon .., Il. 7. 426; ὀβελοὺς. - κρατευτάων ἐπάειραν 9. 214. 2. to lift, raise, κεφαλὴν ἐπαείρας το. 80; καί μ᾽ ἔπαιρε Soph. Ph. 880; ἐπαίρων βλέφαρα Id, Ὁ; 12127675 ἐπάειρε δέρην. (lyr.) Eur. Tro. 100; ἔπαιρε, σαυτόν Ατ. Vesp. 996; σεμνῶς ἐπηρκὼς τὰς ὀφρῦς Amphis Δεξ. I; ἐπάρας τὴν φωνήν Dem. 323. 1; ἐπ. ἱστία, opp. to ὑφίεσθαι, Plut. Luc. 3 :—Med., ἐπαείραο μαζῷ didst lift and put me to thy breast, Ap. Rh. 3. 734; λόγχην, ὅπλα ἐπαίρεσθαι Eur. I. T. 1484, Bacch. 789; ἱστούς Polyb. 1. 61, 7: _metaph., τί.. στάσιν γλώσσης ἐπήρασθε: Soph. O. T. 635; πολλοὺς καὶ θρασεῖς τῇ πόλει ἐπαιρόμενος λόγους Dem. 302. 13. 3. to exalt, magnify, ἐπαείρειν τινά Pind. O. 9. 31; ἐπαίρειν τὸν πατρῷον οἶκον Xen. Mem. 3. 6, 2. 4. intr. to lift up one’s leg or rise up, Hdt. 2. 162 ; so in Pass., Ar. Lys. 937. TI. to stir
From Martin Luther (2016)
69 There he described it as the book from which, after the Bible and the writings of St. Augustine, he had learned the most. Yet the booklet makes disconcerting reading for any adherent of Luther’s theology. Calvin later dismissed it as “twaddle” that confuses the Christian, and as “poison” for the Church. It demands that the Christian should surrender his or her will utterly, letting in the divine will and becoming possessed by the spirit of God. The individual whose will has become merged with that of God thus becomes divine—he or she is vergöttlicht . The emphasis on overcoming the individual will can be seen as pointing toward Luther’s theology of grace, yet it is based on a belief in the perfectibility of human beings that is completely alien to his later thought. The experience of giving up one’s will is a process of renunciation, of letting go—the relaxation of all that is individual. Although the Theologia deutsch does not use the word, what the text described is reminiscent of Gelassenheit, a key term in Staupitz’s sermons at about this time. For Staupitz, Gelassenheit is a kind of meditative absorption in God’s love where the individual ceases to strive and opens up to God’s love. The Theologia deutsch is ambivalent, however, about what the believer can do to secure this divine status ( Vergöttlichung ). For while it is emphatic that external works will not please God, the text does not make clear whether the individual should adopt an attitude of renunciation, or whether it will come as a gift from God. 21. Eyn deutsch Theologia: das ist Eyn edles Buchleyn, Wittenberg, 1518. The cover features a woodcut showing the risen Christ, with the flag of salvation and the wounds of the Crucifixion, and a simple boxlike tomb, plain but for the faintest hint of a Renaissance border. In the foreground lies Adam, a snake issuing from his mouth, while angels armed with agricultural implements plow him back into the soil. The work speaks of the death of the “old Adam” and the resurrection of Christ in the believer. Gelassenheit later became the watchword of the radical wing of the Reformation, and the Theologia deutsch was enormously attractive to those who aimed to spiritualize religion and wanted no truck with an established Church. The idea of the inner and outer man would again be promoted by thinkers like Andreas Karlstadt in Wittenberg and Claus Frey in Strasbourg. If the individual will were united with the divine will, then God himself dwelled in the believer, providing an inner source of authority.
From Martin Luther (2016)
Luther’s inner certainty depended on identifying his cause with Christ’s: If you did not share Luther’s views, there was no higher authority to which you could appeal. And after Worms, Luther was everywhere, hero-worshipped on medals and engravings. We know that the electoral court took care to ensure that Cranach made their man look like a pious humble monk, toning down the first, more dramatic etching. Cranach’s image then became the inspiration for many others, including artists less constrained by the Saxon court. They created an image of the pious monk that became instantly recognizable, and which depicted him as a holy prodigy. As Aleander bitterly complained, woodcuts were on sale in the city showing Luther with a dove, as if he were inspired by the Holy Spirit, or with a nimbus as if he were a saint. 66 As the lines between the evangelical and conservative humanists were being drawn, the defenders of the Catholic Church were beginning to form alliances. 67 In Augsburg, Bernhard Adelmann von Adelmannsfelden, who had been threatened with excommunication in the bull Exsurge Domine, sought absolution from Eck. Conrad Peutinger, the powerful civic secretary of Augsburg, who had appeared to support Luther in 1518, was careful to rebuild his bridges: He took a leading part in negotiations at Worms, and shrewdly used the opportunities for backroom dealing that the Diet afforded to secure benefices for his underage grandson; it was clear now which side he was on. But the Catholic party had not achieved very much. Aleander might remark waspishly that by the time Luther appeared in public at Worms, people already knew he was a drunkard and a scoundrel, his “many oversteppings in looks, attitude and comportment, in word and deed” having robbed him of all respect. And although he described how Luther had gorged himself on food offered him by various princes and dignitaries before leaving, and had washed this down with a good deal of malmsey wine, this kind of gossip was hardly likely to dent Luther’s image as a man of the people. 68 The Catholics had, however, secured the support of the emperor, which they had been unable to take for granted: Aleander’s account of what transpired at the Diet betrays his relief that Charles had not been fooled by Luther. 35. This portrait of Luther faces the title page of an account of his actions at Worms, Acta et res gestae, D. Martini Lvtheri and it was printed in Strasbourg in May or June 1520. This image may well have been the one that annoyed Aleander so much. It is clearly based on Cranach’s original (see page 146), but the artist, Hans Baldung Grien, has added a halo to make Luther appear as a saint, and a dove to indicate that he is inspired by the Holy Spirit. But what should be done with Luther himself ? Some at the Diet had insisted that the monk, as a heretic, did not merit a safe conduct.