Awe

Passages

Every passage tagged with this emotion in the Vela corpus. Search the body text, narrow by source or register, click through to a book’s profile to see how the passage sits with the rest of the work.

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• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  AUGUSTINE. (non occ.) After the miraculous Virgin-birth, a God-man having by Divine power proceeded from a virgin womb; in the obscure shelter of such a cradle, a narrow stall, wherein lay Infinite Majesty in a body more narrow, a God was suckled and suffered the wrapping of vile rags—amidst all this, on a sudden a new star shone in the sky upon the earth, and driving away the darkness of the world, changed night into day; that the day-star should not be hidden by the night. Hence it is that the Evangelist says, Now when Jesus was born in Bethlehem. REMIGIUS. In the beginning of this passage of the Gospel he puts three several things; the person, When Jesus was born, the place, in Bethlehem of Judæa, and the time, in the days of Herod the king. These three circumstances verify his words. JEROME. We think the Evangelist first wrote, as we read in the Hebrew, ‘Judah,’ not ‘Judæa.’ For in what other country is there a Bethlehem, that this needs to be distinguished as in ‘Judæa?’ But ‘Judah’ is written, because there is another Bethlehem in Galilee. GLOSS. (ord. Josh. 19:15.) There are two Bethlehems; one in the tribe of Zabulon, the other in the tribe of Judah, which was before called Ephrata. AUGUSTINE. (De Cons. Evang. 2. 15.) Concerning the place, Bethlehem, Matthew and Luke agree; but the cause and manner of their being there, Luke relates, Matthew omits. Luke again omits the account of the Magi, which Matthew gives. PSEUDO-CHRYSOSTOM. Let us see to what serves this designation of time. In the days of Herod the king. It shews the fulfilment of Daniel’s prophecy, wherein he spake that Christ should be born after seventy weeks of years. For from the time of the prophecy to the reign of Herod, the years of seventy weeks were accomplished. Or again, as long as Judæa was ruled by Jewish princes, though sinners, so long prophets were sent for its amendment; but now, whereas God’s law was held under the power of an unrighteous king, and the righteousness of God enslaved by the Roman rule, Christ is born; the more desperate sickness required the better physician. RABANUS. Otherwise, he mentions the foreign king to shew the fulfilment of the prophecy. The Sceptre shall not depart from Judah, nor a Lawgiver from between his feet, until Shiloh come. (Gen. 49:10.)

• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  AUGUSTINE. (de Con. Ev. lib. iii. c. 20.) There is no contradiction in that Matthew says, that the centurion seeing the earthquake marvelled, whereas Luke says that he marvelled, that Jesus while uttering the loud voice expired, shewing what power He had when He was dying. But in that Matthew not only says, at the sight of the earthquake, but added, and at the things that were done, he has made it clear that there was ample room for Luke to say, that the centurion marvelled at the death of the Lord. But because Luke also himself said, Now when the centurion saw what was done, he has included in that general expression all the marvellous things which took place at that hour, as if relating one marvellous event of which all those miracles were the parts and members. Again, because one Evangelist stated that the centurion said, Truly this man was the Son of God, but Luke gives the words, was a just man, they might be supposed to differ. But either we ought to understand that both these were said by the centurion, and that one Evangelist related one, another another. Or perhaps, that Luke expresses the opinion of the centurion, in what respect he called Him the Son of God. For perhaps the centurion did not know Him to be the Only-begotten, equal to the Father, but called Him the Son of God, because he believed Him to be just, as many just persons are called the sons of God. (Gen. 6:2, 4.) But again, because Matthew added, those who were with the centurion, while Luke omits this, there is no contradiction, since one says what another is silent about. And Matthew said, They were greatly afraid; but Luke does not say that he feared, but that he glorified God. Who then does not see that by fearing he glorified God? THEOPHYLACT. The words of our Lord seem now to be fulfilled, wherein He said, When I shall be lifted up I will draw all men unto me. For when lifted upon the cross He drew to Him the thief and the centurion, besides some of the Jews also, of whom it follows, And all the people that came together smote their breasts. BEDE. By their smiting their breasts as if betokening a penitential sorrow, two things may be understood; either that they bewailed Him unjustly slain whose life they loved, or that remembering that they had demanded His death, they trembled to see Him in death still farther glorified. But we may observe, that the Gentiles fearing God glorify Him with works of public confession; the Jews only striking their breasts returned silent home. AMBROSE. O the breasts of the Jews, harder than the rocks! The judge acquits, the officer believes, the traitor by his death condemns his own crime, the elements flee away, the earth quakes, the graves are opened; the hardness of the Jews still remains immoveable, though the whole world is shaken.

• From The Golden Ass (Metamorphoses) (2)

  And think it not an injury to be alwayes serviceable towards me, since as by my meane and benefit thou shalt become a man: thou shalt live blessed in this world, thou shalt live glorious by my guide and protection, and when thou descendest to Hell, where thou shalt see me shine in that subterene place, shining (as thou seest me now) in the darkness of Acheron, and raigning in the deepe profundity of Stix, thou shalt worship me, as one that hath bin favourable to thee, and if I perceive that thou art obedient to my commandement, addict to my religion, and merite my divine grace, know thou, that I will prolong thy dales above the time that the fates have appointed, and the celestial Planets ordeined.

• From The Golden Ass (Metamorphoses) (2)

  Remoove from me my shape of mine Asse, and render to me my pristine estate, and if I have offended in any point of divine Majesty, let me rather dye then live, for I am full weary of my life. When I had ended this orison, and discovered my plaints to the Goddesse, I fortuned to fall asleepe, and by and by appeared unto me a divine and venerable face, worshipped even of the Gods themselves. Then by little and little I seemed to see the whole figure of her body, mounting out of the sea and standing before mee, wherefore I purpose to describe her divine semblance, if the poverty of my humane speech will suffer me, or her divine power give me eloquence thereto. First shee had a great abundance of haire, dispersed and scattered about her neck, on the crowne of her head she bare many garlands enterlaced with floures, in the middle of her forehead was a compasse in fashion of a glasse, or resembling the light of the Moone, in one of her hands she bare serpents, in the other, blades of corne, her vestiment was of fine silke yeelding divers colours, sometime yellow, sometime rosie, sometime flamy, and sometime (which troubled my spirit sore) darke and obscure, covered with a blacke robe in manner of a shield, and pleated in most subtill fashion at the skirts of her garments, the welts appeared comely, whereas here and there the starres glimpsed, and in the middle of them was placed the Moone, which shone like a flame of fire, round about the robe was a coronet or garland made with flowers and fruits. In her right hand shee had a timbrell of brasse, which gave a pleasant sound, in her left hand shee bare a cup of gold, out of the mouth whereof the serpent Aspis lifted up his head, with a swelling throat, her odoriferous feete were covered with shoes interlaced and wrought with victorious palme. Thus the divine shape breathing out the pleasant spice of fertill Arabia, disdained not with her divine voyce to utter these words unto me: Behold Lucius I am come, thy weeping and prayers hath mooved mee to succour thee. I am she that is the naturall mother of all things, mistresse and governesse of all the Elements, the initiall progeny of worlds, chiefe of powers divine, Queene of heaven!

• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  THEOPHYLACT. (in loc.) The Evangelist intends by making mention of the flesh, to shew the unspeakable condescension of God, and lead us to admire His compassion, in assuming for our salvation, what was so opposite and incongenial to His nature, as the flesh: for the soul has some propinquity to God. If the Word, however, was made flesh, and assumed not at the same time a human soul, our souls, it would follow, would not be yet restored: for what He did not assume, He could not sanctify. What a mockery then, when the soul first sinned, to assume and sanctify the flesh only, leaving the weakest part untouched! This text overthrows Nestorius, who asserted that it was not the very Word, even God, Who the Self-same was made man, being conceived of the sacred blood of the Virgin: but that the Virgin brought forth a man endowed with every kind of virtue, and that the Word of God was united to him: thus making out two sons, one born of the Virgin, i. e. man, the other born of God, that is, the Son of God, united to that man by grace, and relation, and lover. In opposition to him the Evangelist declares, that the very Word was made Man, not that the Word fixing upon a righteous man united Himself to him. CYRIL OF ALEXANDRIA. (ad Nes. Ep. 8) The Word uniting to Himself a body of flesh animated with a rational soul, substantially, was ineffably and incomprehensibly made Man, and called the Son of man, and that not according to the will only, or good-pleasure, nor again by the assumption of the Person alone. The natures are different indeed which are brought into true union, but He Who is of both, Christ the Son, is One; the difference of the natures, on the other hand, not being destroyed in consequence of this coalition. THEOPHYLACT. (in v. 14) From the text, The Word was made flesh, we learn this farther, that the Word Itself is man, and being the Son of God was made the Son of a woman, who is rightly called the Mother of God, as having given birth to God in the flesh.

• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  AUGUSTINE. (Tr. cxi) But as respects the form of God, wherein He is equal to the Father, if we understand these words, that they may be with Me where I am, with reference to that, then away with all bodily ideas, and enquire not where the Son, Who is equal to the Father, is: for no one hath discovered where He is not. Wherefore it was not enough for Him to say, I will that they may be where I am, but He adds, with Me. For to be with Him is the great good: even the miserable can be where He is, but only the happy can be with Him. And as in the ease of the visible, though very different be whatever example we take, a blind man will serve for one, as a blind man though He is where the light is, yet is not himself with the light, but is absent from it in its presence, so not only the unbelieving, but the believing, though they cannot be where Christ is not, yet are not themselves with Christ by sight: by faith we cannot doubt but that a believer is with Christ. But here He is speaking of that sight wherein we shall see Him as He is; as He adds, That they may behold My glory, which Thou hast given Me. That they may behold, He says, not, that they may believe. It is the reward of faith which He speaks of, not faith itself. CHRYSOSTOM. (Hom. lxxxii) He saith not, that they may partake of My glory, but, that they may behold, intimating that the rest there is to see the Son of God. The Father gave Him glory, when He begat Him. AUGUSTINE. (Tr. cxi. 3) When then we shall have seen the glory which the Father gave the Son, though by this glory we do not understand here, that which He gave to the equal Son when He begat Him, but that which He gave to the Son of man, after His crucifixion; then shall the judgment be, then shall the wicked be taken away, that he see not the glory of the Lord: what glory but that whereby He is God? If then we take their words, That they may be with Me where I am, to be spoken by Him as Son of God, in that case they must have a higher meaning, viz. that we shall be in the Father with Christ. As He immediately adds, That they may see My glory which Thou hast given Me; and then, Which Thou gavest Me before the foundation of the world. For in Him He loved us before the foundation of the world, and then predestined what He should do at the end of the world.

• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  II. On the second head it is to be noted, that the great wisdom of Christ is seen in four particulars. (1) In His doctrine—i.e., in truth: “Master, we know that Thou art true, and teachest the way of God in truth,” S. Matt. 22:16. (2) In its depth: “The words of a man’s mouth are as deep waters”—i.e., words from the mouth of Christ are spiritual doctrine; “and the well-spring of wisdom as a flowing brook,” Prov. 18:4: for so great is the abundance of word of doctrine, of this present life, the fountain of wisdom. Mystically, the “deep waters” refer to the Old Testament; and the “flowing brooks” to the New Testament; and Christ and His Apostles unlock the mysteries of both Testaments. Again, words of wisdom wash and bedew the mind, lest it remains defiled with the spot of sin, or fails through the lack of moisture; and because certain things mystically be hid, and certain are open, they are rightly called here “a deep water,” and a “flowing brook.” (3) In its unity: “The words that I speak unto you, they are spirit, and they are life,” S. John 6:63. (4) In its eternity: “Heaven and earth shall pass away; but My words shall not pass away,” S. Luke 21:33. III. On the third head it is to be noted, that Christ is about to come in the world for four purposes. (1) To condemn the wicked: “Behold, the Lord cometh, with ten thousands of His saints, to execute judgment upon all, and to convince all that are ungodly among them of all their ungodly deeds, which they have ungodly committed,” S. Jude 15. (2) To reward the good: “Behold, I come quickly; and My reward is with Me, to give to every man according as his work shall be,” Rev. 22:12. (3) To burn up the earth with fire, and to renovate it: “Our God shall come, and shall not keep silence; a fire shall devour before Him,” Ps. 50:3. (4) To reign by Himself for ever. Every other kingdom shall cease; the kingdom of Christ will remain for ever: “I saw in the night visions, and, behold, one like the Son of Man came with the clouds of heaven, and came to the Ancient of Days, and they brought Him near before Him. And there was given Him dominion, and glory, and a kingdom, that all people, nations, and languages should serve Him: His dominion is an everlasting dominion, which shall not pass away, and His kingdom that which shall not be destroyed,” Dan. 7:13, 14. OF GOD AND HIS CREATURESSAINT THOMAS AQUINAS COPYRIGHT © 2015 BY AETERNA PRESS . ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. AVAILABLE IN PAPERBACK. AN ANNOTATED TRANSLATION (WITH SOME ABRIDGEMENT) OF THE SVMMA CONTRA GENTILES OF SAINT THO^S AQUINAS BY JOSEPH RICKABY, S.J., M.A. LOND: B.SC. OXON., AUTHOR OF “AQUINAS ETHICUS” &C. &C. BURNS & OATES B. HERDER ORCHARD STREET 17 SOUTH BROADWAY LONDON W ST LOUIS MO

• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  Moreover. The reason why we become weary of what we enjoyed hitherto is that it causes some kind of change, by destroying or diminishing one’s power. Hence fatigue is incidental to the exercise of the sensitive powers through the action of the sensible objects on the bodily organ;—in fact the power may be altogether destroyed by too powerful an object;—and after a time they are loth to enjoy that which hitherto had been a pleasant sensation. For the same reason we become weary in mind after long or concentrated thought, because powers that employ organs of the body are subject to fatigue, and in this life it is not possible to give the mind to thought without employing those organs. Now the divine substance does not corrupt but, more than anything, perfects the intellect. Nor does any action performed by a corporeal organ concur in the vision of Him. Therefore it is impossible for anyone to be weary of seeing Him, when they have once enjoyed the sight of Him. Further. Nothing can be wearisome that is wonderful to him that looks on it: because as long as we wonder at it, it still moves our desire. Now the created intellect always looks with wonder on the divine substance, since no created intellect can comprehend it. Therefore the intellectual substance cannot possibly become weary of that vision: and consequently it cannot of its own choice desist from it. Besides. If two things were united before, and afterwards become separated, this must be the result of a change in one of them: because just as a relationship does not begin except through a change in one of the relatives, so does it not cease except through a fresh change in one of them. Now the created intellect sees God through being, in some way, united to Him, as proved above. Consequently if that vision cease, through the cessation of that union, this must result from a change either in the divine substance, or in the intellect of the one who sees it. But neither of these is possible: since the divine substance is unchangeable, as we proved in the First Book: and the intellectual substance is raised above all changes, when it sees the divine substance. Therefore it is impossible to lapse from the happiness of seeing God.

• From Great Authors of the Western Literary Tradition (2004)

  187 changed our basic views about human character, behavior, and motivation. Modern science and technology have fundamentally altered the ways we explain things and where we look for explanations. We start with Beowulf and the beginnings of literature in the British Isles. Beowulf is the longest poem surviving from Anglo-Saxon England, but it is by no means the only work in Old English. Old English is what we call the language of the Angles and Saxons who settled between 400 and 600 in what later became England. Angles and Saxons came from what is now Denmark and northern Germany (Saxony). The language is Germanic and closely related to Old Saxon, Old High German, and Old Dutch. Before Old English began being written down, there was Celtic literature in Old Irish and Old Welsh in the British Isles. Together, these Celtic and Old English materials are Europe’s oldest surviving vernacular literatures. Beowulf is a deeply enigmatic work. We have no idea who wrote it. We have only educated guesses as to when it was written. It is remarkable that it survives at all. The poem survives in a single manuscript written about 1000. The surviving manuscript was apparently rediscovered by Laurence Nowell in about 1563. Robert Cotton owned the manuscript in the 17 th century, and his library was severely damaged in a fi re in 1731. Scholars have had to reconstruct many aspects of the poem, adding to the problems we face in understanding it. Beowulf is a vigorous, fast-paced poem of 3,182 lines. Yale’s Fred Robinson called it “the chief glory of early Germanic poetry.” The poet clearly works with a variety of familiar tales and people, although Beowulf himself never appears in any other known work. The poet could count on a high degree of familiarity on the part of his readers/listeners. He was dealing with their ancestors and the ancestral world from which they had come. The basic story may be quickly summarized. Hrothgar, the wise and just king of the Danes, has been ruling well and happily, celebrating in his magnifi cent Beowulf is a vigorous, fast- paced poem of 3,182 lines. Yale’s Fred Robinson called it “the chief glory of early Germanic poetry.”

• From Great Authors of the Western Literary Tradition (2004)

  392 Lecture 60: Johann Wolfgang von Goethe as well the revolutionary man of genius in rebellion against conventional society. The aesthetic aims of Sturm und Drang were “Romantic” in that they intended: ● To make an iconoclastic break with received forms and values ● To use folk or “primitive” materials, ranging from ballads to puppet shows ● To engage literary ancestors outside the native tradition, that is, classical Greece and Renaissance Italy and England, especially Shakespeare. Out of an unhappy love affair came Goethe’s fi rst success, The Sorrows of Young Werther, composed in four weeks and published in 1774. Werther is an epistolary novel, that is, a novel structured through letters and, therefore, a traditionally 18 th-century kind. In 1775, Goethe moved to Weimar at the invitation of Charles Augustus, duke of Saxe-Weimar, and would live there more or less for the rest of his life. Goethe was one of the last great polymaths of European culture, like Leonardo da Vinci or John Milton or Adam Smith. Goethe served as chief minister to the duke of Saxe-Weimar, designed the Weimar theater, and was an important scientist. Goethe’s collected works of plays, novels, memoirs, and travel writing, including letters and diaries, run to 143 volumes, plus fi ve additional volumes of “conversations” with various interlocutors. Goethe’s lifetime artistic project, Faust, is like a Frankensteinian creature (but a beautiful and productive one). Goethe’s Faust is crafted to give men pleasure into the future precisely because it provides an ongoing source of wonder. Faust, a work in two parts, the second nearly twice as long and much more abstract in its action than the fi rst, is written in the form of a play, but it is virtually unstageable. Goethe himself called Faust a tragedy, especially the second part, composed almost 40 years after he began work on the fi rst part, although Faust is not condemned but saved. The Faust legend was originally published in 1587 as a chapbook and was adapted to the Elizabethan stage by Christopher Marlowe. It had been

• From Just Mercy: A Story of Justice and Redemption (2014)

  While the room was very old, the acoustics were perfect, and there was a balance and precision to the space that seemed almost magical. I studied the hundreds of Scandinavian teenagers seated in the hall while I was being introduced. I was impressed by how eager they appeared. I spoke for forty-five minutes to the strangely silent and attentive group of teens. I knew English wasn’t their first language and had real doubts about how much they were even following what I said, but when I finished, they erupted into vigorous applause. Their response actually startled me. They were so young but so interested in the plight of my condemned clients thousands of miles away. The headmaster joined me onstage to thank me and suggested to the students that they offer their own thanks with a song. The school had an internationally famous music program and student choir. The headmaster asked the choir students to stand wherever they were in the auditorium and briefly sing something. About fifty giggling kids stood up and looked around at each other. After a minute of uncertainty, a seventeen-year-old boy with strawberry blond hair stood on his chair and said something to his choirmates in Swedish. The students laughed, but they became more sober. As they became still and perfectly quiet, the boy hummed a note in a beautiful tenor voice. His pitch was perfect. Then he slowly waved his arms to prompt these extraordinary children to sing. Their voices bounced off the walls and ceiling of this ancient hall and fell into a glorious harmony the likes of which I’d never heard. After starting his classmates in song, the young man stepped off his chair and joined them in performing a heartbreaking melody with tremendous care and precision. I could not understand a word of the Swedish lyrics, but it sounded angelic. Dissonance and harmonic tension slowly resolved into warm chords—the sound was transcendent. The singing built gloriously with each line. Standing on a stage above the singers with the headmaster beside me, I looked up at the ceiling—at the majestic artwork. My mother had died a few months before this trip. She’d been a church musician most of her life and had worked with dozens of children’s choirs. When I looked up and saw the drawings of angels on the domed ceiling I thought of her. I quickly realized I would never recover my composure looking up there, so I looked back at the students and forced a smile. When the students finished their song, the rest of the students cheered and applauded wildly. I joined the applause and tried to hold myself together. When I left the stage, students came up to thank me for the talk, ask questions, and take pictures. I was completely charmed.

• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  So also was this useful for our “withdrawal from evil.” First, because man is taught by it not to prefer the devil to himself, nor to honor him who is the author of sin; hence Augustine says (De Trin. xiii, 17): “Since human nature is so united to God as to become one person, let not these proud spirits dare to prefer themselves to man, because they have no bodies.” Secondly, because we are thereby taught how great is man’s dignity, lest we should sully it with sin; hence Augustine says (De Vera Relig. xvi): “God has proved to us how high a place human nature holds amongst creatures, inasmuch as He appeared to men as a true man.” And Pope Leo says in a sermon on the Nativity (xxi): “Learn, O Christian, thy worth; and being made a partner of the Divine nature, refuse to return by evil deeds to your former worthlessness.” Thirdly, because, “in order to do away with man’s presumption, the grace of God is commended in Jesus Christ, though no merits of ours went before,” as Augustine says (De Trin. xiii, 17). Fourthly, because “man’s pride, which is the greatest stumbling-block to our clinging to God, can be convinced and cured by humility so great,” as Augustine says in the same place. Fifthly, in order to free man from the thraldom of sin, which, as Augustine says (De Trin. xiii, 13), “ought to be done in such a way that the devil should be overcome by the justice of the man Jesus Christ,” and this was done by Christ satisfying for us. Now a mere man could not have satisfied for the whole human race, and God was not bound to satisfy; hence it behooved Jesus Christ to be both God and man. Hence Pope Leo says in the same sermon: “Weakness is assumed by strength, lowliness by majesty, mortality by eternity, in order that one and the same Mediator of God and men might die in one and rise in the other—for this was our fitting remedy. Unless He was God, He would not have brought a remedy; and unless He was man, He would not have set an example.” And there are very many other advantages which accrued, above man’s apprehension. Reply to Objection 1: This reason has to do with the first kind of necessity, without which we cannot attain to the end.

• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  ORIGEN. (t. xxxii. 17.) Or thus: The word glory is here used in a different sense from that which some Pagans attach to it, who defined glory to be the collected praises of the many. It is evident that glory in such a sense is a different thing from that mentioned in Exodus, where it is said, that the glory of the Lord filled the tabernacle, (Exod. 40:34) and that the face of Moses was glorified. The glory here mentioned is something visible, a certain divine appearance in the temple, and on Moses’ face; but in a higher and more spiritual sense we are glorified, when with the eye of the understanding we penetrate into the things of God. For the mind when it ascends above material things, and spiritually sees God, is deified: and of this spiritual glory, the visible glory on the face of Moses is a figure: for his mind it was that was deified by converse with God. But there is no comparison between the excellent glory of Christ, and the knowledge of Moses, whereby the face of his soul was glorified: for the whole of the Father’s glory shines upon the Son, who is the brightness of His glory, and the express image of His Person. (Heb. 1:3) (c. 18.). Yea, and from the light of this whole glory there go forth particular glories, throughout the whole rational creation: though none can take in the whole of the divine glory, except the Son. But so far as the Son was known to the world, so far only was He glorified. And as yet He was not fully known. But afterward the Father spread the knowledge of Him over the whole world, and then was the Son of man glorified in those who knew Him. And of this glory He hath made all who know Him partakers: as saith the Apostle; We all, with open face beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same image, from glory to glory, (2 Cor. 3:18) i. e. from His glory receive glory. When He was approaching then that dispensation, by which He was to become known to the world, and to be glorified in the glory of those who glorified Him, He says, Now is the Son of man glorified. (Matt. 11:27) And because no man knoweth the Father but the Son, and he to whomsoever the Son will reveal Him, and the Son by the dispensation (ἐκ τῆς οἰκονομίας) was about to reveal the Father; for this reason He saith, And God is glorified in Him. Or compare this with the text below: He that hath seen Me, hath seen the Father. (c. 14:9) The Father who begat the Word is seen in the Word, who is God, and the image of the invisible God. But the words may be taken in a larger sense. For as through some the name of God was blasphemed among the Gentiles, so through the saints whose good deeds are seen and acknowledged by the world, the name of the Father in heaven is magnified. But in whom was He so glorified as in Jesus, Who did no sin, neither was guile found in His mouth? Such being the Son, He is glorified, and God is glorified in Him. And if God is glorified in Him, the Father returns Him more than He gave. For the glory of the Son of man, when the Father glorifies Him, far exceeds the Father’s glory, when He is glorified in the Son: it being fit that the greater should return the greater glory. And as this, viz. the glorifying of the Son of man, was just about to be accomplished, our Lord adds, And will straightway glorify Him.

• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  GREGORY NAZIANZEN. (Orat. xxxvii. 2.) For He passes from place to place, that He may not only gain many, but may consecrate many places. He sleeps and labours, that He may sanctify sleep and labour. He weeps, that He may give a value to tears. He preaches heavenly things, that He may exalt His hearers. TITUS BOSTRENSIS. For He who descends from heaven to earth, brings tidings to them that dwell on earth of a heavenly kingdom. But who ought to preach the kingdom of heaven? Many prophets came, yet preached not the kingdom of heaven, for how could they pretend to speak of things which they perceived not? ISIDORE OF PELEUSIUM. (lib. iii. ep. 206.) Now this kingdom of God some think to be higher and better than the heavenly kingdom, but some think it to be one and the same in reality, but called by different names; at one time the kingdom of God from Him who reigneth, but at another the kingdom of heaven from the Angels and Saints, His subjects, who are said to be of heaven. BEDE. But like the eagle, enticing its young ones to fly, our Lord, step by step, raises up His disciples to heavenly things. He first of all teaches in the synagogues, and performs miracles. He next chooses twelve whom He names Apostles; He afterwards takes them alone with Him, as He preached throughout the cities and villages, as it follows, And the twelve were with him. THEOPHYLACT. Not teaching or preaching, but to be instructed by Him. But lest it should seem that the women were hindered from following Christ, it is added, And certain women which had been healed of evil spirits and infirmities, Mary called Magdalene, out of whom went seven devils. BEDE. Mary Magdalene is the same of whose repentance, without mention of her name, we have just read. For the Evangelist, when he relates her going with our Lord, rightly distinguishes her by her known name, but when describing the sinner but penitent, He speaks of her generally as a woman; lest the mark of her former guilt should blacken a name of so great report. Out of whom seven devils are reported to have gone, that it might be shewn that she was full of all vices. GREGORY. (Hom. 33. in Ev.) For what is understood by the seven devils, but all vices? For since all time is comprehended by seven days, rightly by the number seven is universality represented: Mary therefore had seven devils, for she was full of every kind of vice. It follows, And Joanna the wife of Chuza Herod’s steward, and Susanna, and many others who ministered to him of their substance.

• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  CHRYSOSTOM. (Hom. lxxxiii) The Evangelist, to shew that it was not their design to do this, but that His power did it, adds, That the saying might be fulfilled which He spoke, Of them which Thou hast given Me, have I lost none. He had said this with reference not to temporal, but to eternal death: the Evangelist however understands the word of temporal death also. AUGUSTINE. (Tr. cxii. 4) But were the disciples never to die? Why then would He lose them, even if they died then? Because they did not yet believe in Him in a saving way. 18:10–1110. Then Simon Peter having a sword drew it, and smote the high priest’s servant, and cut off his right ear. The servant’s name was Malchus. 11. Then said Jesus unto Peter, Put up thy sword into the sheath: the cup which my Father hath given me, shall I not drink it? CHRYSOSTOM. (Hom. lxxxiii) Peter trusting to these last words of our Lord’s, and to what He had just done, assaults those who came to take Him: Then Simon Peter having a sword drew it, and smote the high priest’s servant. But how, commanded as he had been to have neither scrip, nor two garments, had he a sword? Perhaps he had foreseen this occasion, and provided one. THEOPHYLACT. Or, he had got one for sacrificing the lamb, and carried it away with him from the Supper. CHRYSOSTOM. (Hom. lxxxiii. 2) But how could he, who had been forbidden ever to strike on the cheek, be a murderer? Because what he had been forbidden to do was to avenge himself, but here he was not avenging himself, but his Master. They were not however yet perfect: afterwards ye shall see Peter beaten with stripes, and bearing it humbly. And cut off his right ear: this seems to shew the impetuosity of the Apostle; that he struck at the head itself. AUGUSTINE. (Tr. cxii) The servant’s name was Malchus; John is the only Evangelist who mentions the servant’s name; as Luke is the only one who mentions that our Lord touched the ear and healed him. CHRYSOSTOM. (Hom. lxxxiii) He wrought this miracle both to teach us, that we ought to do good to those who suffer, and to manifest His power. The Evangelist gives the name, that those who then read it might have the opportunity of enquiring into the truth of the account. And he mentions that he was the servant of the high priest, because in addition to the miracle of the cure itself, this shews that it was performed upon one of those who came to take Him, and who shortly after struck Him on the face.

• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  Whether there are various actions pertaining to the contemplative life?Objection 1: It would seem that there are various actions pertaining to the contemplative life. For Richard of St. Victor [*De Grat. Contempl. i, 3,4] distinguishes between “contemplation,” “meditation,” and “cogitation.” Yet all these apparently pertain to contemplation. Therefore it would seem that there are various actions pertaining to the contemplative life. Objection 2: Further, the Apostle says (2 Cor. 3:18): “But we . . . beholding [speculantes] the glory of the Lord with open face, are transformed into the same clarity [*Vulg.: ‘into the same image from glory to glory.’].” Now this belongs to the contemplative life. Therefore in addition to the three aforesaid, vision [speculatio] belongs to the contemplative life. Objection 3: Further, Bernard says (De Consid. v, 14) that “the first and greatest contemplation is admiration of the Majesty.” Now according to Damascene (De Fide Orth. ii, 15) admiration is a kind of fear. Therefore it would seem that several acts are requisite for the contemplative life. Objection 4: Further, “Prayer,” “reading,” and “meditation” [*Hugh of St. Victor, Alleg. in N.T. iii, 4] are said to belong to the contemplative life. Again, “hearing” belongs to the contemplative life: since it is stated that Mary (by whom the contemplative life is signified) “sitting . . . at the Lord’s feet, heard His word” (Lk. 10:39). Therefore it would seem that several acts are requisite for the contemplative life. On the contrary, Life signifies here the operation on which a man is chiefly intent. Wherefore if there are several operations of the contemplative life, there will be, not one, but several contemplative lives. I answer that, We are now speaking of the contemplative life as applicable to man. Now according to Dionysius (Div. Nom. vii) between man and angel there is this difference, that an angel perceives the truth by simple apprehension, whereas man arrives at the perception of a simple truth by a process from several premises. Accordingly, then, the contemplative life has one act wherein it is finally completed, namely the contemplation of truth, and from this act it derives its unity. Yet it has many acts whereby it arrives at this final act. Some of these pertain to the reception of principles, from which it proceeds to the contemplation of truth; others are concerned with deducing from the principles, the truth, the knowledge of which is sought; and the last and crowning act is the contemplation itself of the truth.

• From Great Authors of the Western Literary Tradition (2004)

  427 must combine the truth of nature with the modifying colors of imagination. In Coleridge’s Rime of the Ancient Mariner , supernatural characters help to elicit familiar human feelings. In Wordsworth’s “My Heart Leaps Up,” the sight of a rainbow becomes an object of almost supernatural wonder. Poetry is the expression of feeling tempered by recollection. Wordsworth defi nes poetry as “the spontaneous over fl ow of powerful feeling.” But he also insists that it takes its origin “from emotion recollected in tranquility.” Time and memory play crucial roles in Wordsworth’s poetry. In “Tintern Abbey” Wordsworth uses both common and elevated language to show how time has shaped his mind even while subduing his passions. Before writing “Tintern Abbey” in the summer of 1798, Wordsworth had already begun to make poetry speak “the real language of men.” In “Goody Blake,” for instance, he uses the sort of repetition we commonly fi nd in spoken language. He also uses normal syntax and redundant pronouns. Tintern Abbey. Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Division.

• From Collected Essays (1998)

  For, the church and the theater are carried within us and it is we who create them, out of our need and out of an impulse more mysterious than our desire. If this seems to be saying that the lif e of the theater and the lif e of the church are dependent on maverick freak poets and visionaries, I can only point out that these difficult creatures are also our flesh and blood, and are also created by our need and out of an impulse more mysterious than our desire. In the darkened Lafayette Theater-that moment when the house lights dim in the theater is not at all like the dimming of the house lights in the movies-I watched the narrow, hor izontal ribbon of light which connects the stage curtain to the floor of the stage, and which also separates them. That narrow ribbon of light then contains a mystery. That mystery may contain the future-you are, yourself, suspended, as mortal as that ribbon. No one can possibly know what is about to hap pen: it is happening, each time, for the first time, for the only time. For this reason, although I did not know this, I had never before, in the mm'ies, been aware of the audience: in 502 THE DEVIL FI NDS WORK the movies, we knew what was going to happen, and, if we wanted to, we could stay there all afternoon, seeing it happen over and over again. But I was aware of the audience now. Everyone seemed to be waiting, as I was waiting. The curtain rose. Between three and four years later, that is, around the time that I was seventeen, my best friend, Emile, took me to a movie at the Irving Place Theater, a Russian movie, since America and Russia were allies then. My friend is a Jew-an American Jew, of Spanish descent: he was then, and is today, one of the most honest and honorable people I have ever known. He took me to the movie because he was trying to help me leav e the church. I had not been to a film, or a theater from the time of my conversion, which came hard upon the heels of Macbeth. At this time of my lif e, Emile was the only friend I had who knew to what extent my ministry tormented me. I knew that I could not stay in the pulpit.

• From The Swimming-Pool Library (1988)

  It was Billy Budd, an opera I recalled as a gauche, almost amateur affair, and I had not in the least expected to enjoy it; and yet, when Captain Vere’s monologue ended and the scene on board the Indomitable opened up, with the men holy-stoning the deck and singing their oppressed, surging chorus, I was covered in goose-flesh. When Billy, press-ganged from his old ship, sang his farewell to his former life and comrades—‘Farewell, old Rights o’ Man, farewell’—the tears streamed down my face. The young baritone, singing with the greatest beauty and freshness, brought an extraordinary quality of resisted pathos to Billy; in the stammering music his physiognomy, handsome and forthright and yet with a curious fleshy debility about the mouth, made me believe it as his own tragedy. None of this should have surprised me. I had not heard any music for a few days, and I was all charged up, glowing and gratified, so that my sense of everything was heightened. I felt every phrase of the music in a physical way, as if I had turned into a little orchestra myself. In the interval we had champagne, though James would only take a drop, saying it would give him a headache. He was prone to bad headaches, often of a nervous kind (for instance, when he had a clear weekend after being on call for two or three weeks he would spend it supine in a darkened room, a hand pressed to his brow). The heat and intensity of a theatre always brought on a bit of a head for him too. I think he concentrated exceptionally hard—at a concert he would either follow the score or his knuckles would be white with tension—whereas I, though I was gripped and appalled by the opera, blubbing again at the despair of the poor little Novice, his body and spirit broken by his flogging, had also had periods of several minutes’ duration when I had paid no attention at all, thinking about Phil, and sex, and what I was going to do later. My grandfather looked at me apprehensively. ‘Are you enjoying it, darling?’ he asked. ‘I think it’s wonderful,’ I said. ‘It’s a funny old production, but there’s something quite touching about that.’ ‘Mm—I agree. Quite unchanged since the very first performance, of course. It’s a museum piece, still being used after thirty years. We had a lot of talk about a new production, but we felt the loot could be better spent on something else.’ ‘Yes.’ I was on for more champagne already. ‘What do you think, James?’ ‘Oh, I’m enjoying it,’ James said, with an emphasis that suggested reservations. His eyes were darkly rimmed, he looked sallow with lack of sleep, and I wondered what it would be like to come to the crowded unreality of a theatre after a day’s long concentration on illness and misery. ‘I don’t know if it’s a piece you especially care for.’

• From The Swimming-Pool Library (1988)

  I wandered alone through the shop, from the clothing department, which is like a designated school outfitters, stocked with the kit which Europeans will need for the term, through rooms with shelves of rolled & folded cloth, with grubby-suited Arab attendants climbing up tapering ladders to get down fabrics—printed cotton mostly—from the top. Occasional lethargic fans stirred the air. There seemed to be no windows, & beyond irregular pools of electric light lay mysterious, abundant semidarkness. I came to a sort of dead end, a tall, stuffy place like an airing cupboard, a store-room perhaps, with a young boy barefoot, climbing up & down the shelves, checking stock, a pressure-lamp in his raised hand, his black face concentrating, dazzling in the plane of light that he swung about him. I stayed & watched, mesmerised, feeling that nothing else mattered. Down he clambered, his supple child’s body comically bursting out of his khaki cotton uniform. When he saw me he smiled. I smiled back—though I was at the very edge of the field of light, & perhaps he cd not really see me. He kept on smiling—an immense, gentle, jolly smile—not yet a vendor’s smile, nothing calculating in it. He was a pure Negro, from far south evidently, like the people we are going to, quite different from the crossbred scamps who haunt the quays. I turned & went back, & as I did so he called out, ‘Welcome Port Said, m’sieur’—in a heartbreaking voice, its boy’s clarity just cracking into manhood. I was inordinately, unaccountably moved by this—except that I knew it for what it was, a profound call of my nature, answered first at school by Webster, muffled, followed obscurely but inexorably since. Was it merely lust? Was it only baffled desire? I knew again, as I had known when a child myself, confronting a man for the first time, that paradox of admiration, of loss of self, of dedication … call it what you will. Back in the sunshine—fiercely hot now, so that I at once put on my topi, & walked out conscious of some inner effort of self-effacement, of humility wrestling with grandeur & compassion—the scamps, repelled from Simon Artz’s door by a fearsome old Arab with a peaked cap and a cane, flocked about me, some pushy & assertive but others festive and friendly, trying to take me by the hand. I had the absurd vision of myself as a doting schoolmaster leading off his charges on some special treat, & for the first time I had to assert myself, strike out airily with my hand to repel the little demons. Then I felt childlike myself, very pink & white, laughable in my indignation, & my authority much too big for me, as if bought in anticipation of my ‘growing into it’.