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Fear

Fear is the body reading a threat as near — the breath shortens, the skin tightens, the attention collapses onto the single thing that might do harm. It arrives faster than thought and is rarely wrong about the fact of danger, only sometimes about its size. Vela reads fear as a primary emotion, distinct from the anxiety it shades into, and follows the writers who have written from inside it rather than about it from a safe distance.

Working definition · Threat-focused arousal—danger, loss, or harm feels proximate or plausible.

10570 passages · 1 Vela essay · in 1 cluster

Vela’s read on this emotion

Fear is one of the few emotions the body insists on before the mind has a vote, and that priority is the first thing the reading respects. Fear is not cowardice and not weakness; it is the oldest of the alarm systems, and the writers worth following have treated it as testimony rather than as something to be talked out of.

The reading is densest where fear has been lived under, not merely felt. Anne Frank's diary keeps fear as a daily condition — the specific dread of the footstep on the stair — held alongside the ordinary business of being fifteen. Viktor Frankl's Man's Search for Meaning reads fear inside the camps without flattening it into a lesson. The literature of illness and the body — the memoir written from inside a diagnosis — holds the particular fear of one's own body becoming the threat. The contemplative inheritance treats fear as a serious subject across centuries: the fear of the Lord in the Hebrew scriptures is closer to awe than to terror, and the distinction is one the reading keeps.

Fear is not the same as anxiety, dread, or terror. Fear has an object the body can point to; anxiety is fear without a fixed address, braced against what might come. Dread is fear stretched forward in time, waiting. Terror is fear past the point where action remains possible. The four are kin and the reading keeps them apart, because the difference is the difference between what the body can do and what it can only endure.

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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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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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10570 tagged passages

  • From The History of Christianity II: From the Reformation to the Modern Megachurch (2017)

    32 LECTURE 4 THE ANABAPTIST RADICALS I n the year 1536, St. Lambert’s Church, a Catholic establishment in the German town of Münster, contained a gruesome sight: three mutilated corpses in cages, their bloody limbs on display for everyone in the town to see. Münster hosted one of the most bizarre and brutal episodes of the Reformation. The story starts with a man named Jan Matthijszoon (simply known as Jan for the purposes of this lecture). 33Lecture 4—The Anabaptist Radicals CHAOS õJan made his living as a baker in a little town outside of Amsterdam. During the 1530s, northern Europe was a pretty chaotic place. All kinds of priests and prophets were criticizing the Catholic Church and predicting that the Kingdom of God was on its way. õJan started to find this stuff much more interesting than breads and cakes. He became a disciple of a radical German preacher named Melchior Hoffman, who said the end of the world was coming soon, and there was little time left to turn away from the blasphemous practices of the Catholic Church. õMeanwhile, in Münster, people were divided over whose side to take in the Reformation: some supported the Catholic bishop, while others had become Protestants. The leader of the Protestants was a radical named Bernhard Rothmann, who rejected the practice of baptizing babies. õJan eventually showed up in Münster, saying he was a prophet of God. He liked the radical Protestantism that was gaining steam. In February of 1534, crowds that believed that the Last Days were really approaching stormed the snowy streets of Münster and seized control of the town. But a local Catholic bishop marshaled troops and attacked; Jan died in the resulting battle. One of his followers, Jan Beukels (also known as John of Leiden), took his place. õDuring the summer of 1534, the bishop and his allies blocked all roads into town and decided to starve the radicals into surrender. John responded by declaring that he was the divinely anointed king of the world, a successor to King David of Israel. He even minted new gold and silver coins proclaiming his reign.

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

    CHRYSOSTOM. He not only requires faith which is of the mind, but confession which is by the mouth, that He may exalt us higher, and raise us to a more open utterance, and a larger measure of love. For this is spoken not to the Apostles only, but to all; He gives strength not to them only, but to their disciples. And he that observes this precept will not only teach with free utterance, but will easily convince all; for the observance of this command drew many to the Apostles. RABANUS. Or, He confesses Jesus who by that faith that worketh by love, obediently fulfils His commands; he denies Him who is disobedient. 10:34–3634. Think not that I am come to send peace on earth: I came not to send peace, but a sword. 35. For I am come to set a man at variance against his father, and the daughter against her. mother, and the daughter in law against her mother in law. 36. And a man’s foes shall be they of his own household. JEROME. He had before said, What I say to you in darkness, that speak ye in the light; He now tells them what will follow upon that preaching, saying, Think not that I am come to send peace upon earth; I am not come to send peace, but a sword. GLOSS. (interlin.) Or connect it with what has gone before, As the fear of death ought not to draw you away, so neither ought carnal affection. CHRYSOSTOM. (Hom. xxxv.) How then did He enjoin them, that when they should entor any house they should say, Peace be to this house, as also the Angels sung, Glory to God in the highest, on earth peace to men. (Luke 2:14.) That is the most perfect peace when that which is diseased is lopped off, when that which introduces strife is taken away, for so only is it possible that heaven should be joined to earth. For so does the physician save the rest of the body, namely by cutting off that which cannot be healed. So it came to pass at the tower of Babel; a happy discord broke up their bad union. So also Paul divided those who were conspired together against him. For concord is not in all cases good; for there is honour among thieves. And this combat is not of His setting before them, but of the plots of the world. JEROME. For in the matter of belief in Christ, the whole world was divided against itself; each house had its believers and its unbelievers; and therefore was this holy war sent, that an unholy peace might be broken through.

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

    EUSEBIUS. As if He said, As a lantern is lighted that it should give light, not that it should be covered under a bushel or a bed, so also the secrets of the kingdom of heaven when uttered in parables, although hid from those who are strangers to the faith, will not however to all men appear obscure. Hence he adds, For nothing is secret that shall not be made manifest, neither any thing hid that shall not be known, and come abroad. As if He said, Though many things are spoken in parables, that seeing they might not see, and hearing they might not understand, because of their unbelief, yet the whole matter shall be revealed. AUGUSTINE. (de Quæst. Ev. lib. ii. q. 12.) Or else in these words He typically sets forth the boldness of preaching, that no one should, through fear of fleshly ills, conceal the light of knowledge. For under the names of vessel and bed, he represents the flesh, but of that of lantern, the word, which whosoever keeps hid through fear of the troubles of the flesh, sets the flesh itself before the manifestation of the truth, and by it he as it were covers the word, who fears to preach it. But he places a candle upon a candlestick who so submits his body to the service of God, that the preaching of the truth stands highest in his estimation, the service of the body lowest. ORIGEN. But he who would adapt his lantern to the more perfect disciples of Christ, must persuade us by those things which were spoken of John, for he was a burning and a shining light. (John 5:35.) It becomes not him then who lights the light of reason in his soul to hide it under a bed where men sleep, nor under any vessel, for he who does this provides not for those who enter the house for whom the candle is prepared, but they must set it upon a candlestick, that is, the whole Church. CHRYSOSTOM. (Hom. 15. in Matt.) By these words he leads them to diligence of life, teaching them to be strong as exposed to the view of all men, and fighting in the world as on a stage. As if he said, Think not that we dwell in a small part of the world, for ye will be known of all men, since it cannot be that so great virtue should lie hid.

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

    CHRYSOSTOM. (Hom. lxii. 1) He had not as yet told His disciples where He was going; but now He tells them, in order to prepare them beforehand, for they are in great alarm, when they hear of it: His disciples say unto Him, Master, the Jews sought to stone Thee, and goest Thou thither again? They feared both for Him, and for themselves; for they were not yet confirmed in faith. AUGUSTINE. (Tr. xlix. 8) When men presumed to give advice to God, disciples to their Master, our Lord rebuked them: Jesus answered, Are there not twelve hours in the day? He shewed Himself to be the day, by appointing twelve disciples: i. e. reckoning Matthias in the place of Judas, and passing over the latter altogether. The hours are lightened by the day; that by the preaching of the hours, the world may believe on the day. Follow Me then, saith our Lord, if ye wish not to stumble: If any man walk in the day, he stumbleth not, because he seeth the light of this world: But if a man walk in the night he stumbleth, because there is no light in him. CHRYSOSTOM. (Hom. lxii. 1) As if to say, The upright need fear no evil: the wicked only have cause to fear. We have done nothing worthy of death, and therefore are in no danger. Or, If any one seeth this world’s light, he is safe; much more he who is with Me. THEOPHYLACT. Some understand the day to be the time preceding the Passion, the night to be the Passion. In this sense, while it is day, would mean, before My Passion; Ye will not stumble before My Passion, because the Jews will not persecute you; but when the night, i. e. My Passion, cometh, then shall ye be beset with darkness and difficulties. 11:11–1611. These things said he: and after that he saith unto them, Our friend Lazarus sleepeth; but I go that I may awake him out of sleep. 12. Then said his disciples, Lord, if he sleep, he shall do well. 13. Howbeit Jesus spake of his death: but they thought that he had spoken of taking of rest in sleep. 14. Then said Jesus unto them plainly, Lazarus is dead. 15. And I am glad for your sakes I was not there, to the intent ye may believe; nevertheless let us go unto him. 16. Then said Thomas, which is called Didymus, unto his fellowdisciples, Let us also go, that we may die with him.

  • From Bad Behavior (1988)

    He’s precious and special. Whenever I think of someone trying to harm him—any of my children really, but especially him—I picture myself turning into a mother tiger and lashing out. I would do anything to protect him.” “Why would you think of anyone trying to harm him?” asked Lily. “Just out of the blue?” She woke up feeling guilty and frightened and angry at Lily. She dimly tried to sort it out. Why should she feel any of these things? The doctors hadn’t tried to tie her tubes. There had been no conversation with Lily. She went back to sleep. When Daniel was sixteen, he had another girlfriend. She was another small girl, with dark hair and light-brown glasses. She wrote poetry and talked a lot about feminism. Virginia still had a snapshot of them on their way to the junior prom. The girl looked embarrassed and distressed in her gown and corsage. Daniel was indifferently handsome. — Charles became a delicate, pretty adolescent. His eyes were large and green and long-lashed, his neck slender. He slouched like an arrogant little cat. Girls got crushes on him, they called and asked to speak to him in scared, high-pitched voices. He was rude to them and hung up. The only girl he liked was a homely, jittery kid who wore a leather jacket and bleached her hair. But that ended when the girl was sent to some kind of institution. — Camille got married a month after she graduated. She and Kevin flew to New Jersey for the wedding. They posed for snapshots in the den. They were radiant against the jumbled background of random shoes and scattered newspapers. Everybody walked around the house talking and laughing and eating hunks of white cake. Kevin’s father shook hands with Jarold. Kevin’s mother helped in the kitchen. Camille and Kevin went to Spain for their honeymoon. Then they moved to New York and got jobs. Camille wrote letters on heavy gray stationery with “Dr. and Mrs. Kevin Spaulding” printed across the top. — Magdalen was married the following spring. She married a Southern lawyer whom she had waited on in the health-food restaurant. “Wouldn’t you know it?” said Anne. “She probably did it to shock you. She couldn’t have Camille getting all the attention.” “It’s what she wanted all along,” said Betty. “A daddy.” John was ten years older than Magdalen. He was broad-shouldered and slow-moving, with lazy gray eyes. Magdalen cuddled against him, her hand quiet on his lapel. Jarold watched them with deep approval. It relaxed him to talk about them or look at them. Virginia was happy that Magdalen had found someone normal to take care of her. She was proud of her daughter’s wedding beauty and of her successful husband.

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

    Whether there was contrariety of wills in Christ?Objection 1: It would seem that there was contrariety of wills in Christ. For contrariety of wills regards contrariety of objects, as contrariety of movements springs from contrariety of termini, as is plain from the Philosopher (Phys. v, text. 49, seq.). Now Christ in His different wills wished contrary things. For in His Divine will He wished for death, from which He shrank in His human will, hence Athanasius says [*De Incarnat. et Cont. Arianos, written against Apollinarius]: “When Christ says ‘Father, if it be possible, let this chalice pass from Me; yet not My will, but Thine be done,’ and again, ‘The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh weak,’ He denotes two wills—the human, which through the weakness of the flesh shrank from the passion—and His Divine will eager for the passion.” Hence there was contrariety of wills in Christ. Objection 2: Further, it is written (Gal. 5:17) that “the flesh lusteth against the spirit, and the spirit against the flesh.” Now when the spirit desires one thing, and the flesh another, there is contrariety of wills. But this was in Christ; for by the will of charity which the Holy Spirit was causing in His mind, He willed the passion, according to Is. 53:7: “He was offered because it was His own will,” yet in His flesh He shrank from the passion. Therefore there was contrariety of wills in Him. Objection 3: Further, it is written (Lk. 22:43) that “being in an agony, He prayed the longer.” Now agony seems to imply a certain struggle [*Greek, {agonia}] in a soul drawn to contrary things. Hence it seems that there was contrariety of will in Christ. On the contrary, In the decisions of the Sixth Council [*Third Council of Constantinople, Act. 18] it is said: “We confess two natural wills, not in opposition, as evil-minded heretics assert, but following His human will, and neither withstanding nor striving against, but rather being subject to, His Divine and omnipotent will.”

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

    On the contrary, Augustine says (Confess. ii, 6): “Fear is startled at things unwonted and sudden, which endanger things beloved, and takes forethought for their safety.” I answer that, As stated about [1388](A[3]; Q[41], A[2]), the object of fear is an imminent evil, which can be repelled, but with difficulty. Now this is due to one of two causes: to the greatness of the evil, or to the weakness of him that fears; while unwontedness and suddenness conduce to both of these causes. First, it helps an imminent evil to seem greater. Because all material things, whether good or evil, the more we consider them, the smaller they seem. Consequently, just as sorrow for a present evil is mitigated in course of time, as Cicero states (De Quaest. Tusc. iii, 30); so, too, fear of a future evil is diminished by thinking about it beforehand. Secondly, unwontedness and suddenness increase the weakness of him that fears, in so far as they deprive him of the remedies with which he might otherwise provide himself to forestall the coming evil, were it not for the evil taking him by surprise. Reply to Objection 1: The object of hope is a good that is possible to obtain. Consequently whatever increases a man’s power, is of a nature to increase hope, and, for the same reason, to diminish fear, since fear is about an evil which cannot be easily repelled. Since, therefore, experience increases a man’s power of action, therefore, as it increases hope, so does it diminish fear. Reply to Objection 2: Those who are quick-tempered do not hide their anger; wherefore the harm they do others is not so sudden, as not to be foreseen. On the other hand, those who are gentle or cunning hide their anger; wherefore the harm which may be impending from them, cannot be foreseen, but takes one by surprise. For this reason the Philosopher says that such men are feared more than others. Reply to Objection 3: Bodily good or evil, considered in itself, seems greater at first. The reason for this is that a thing is more obvious when seen in juxtaposition with its contrary. Hence, when a man passes unexpectedly from penury to wealth, he thinks more of his wealth on account of his previous poverty: while, on the other hand, the rich man who suddenly becomes poor, finds poverty all the more disagreeable. For this reason sudden evil is feared more, because it seems more to be evil. However, it may happen through some accident that the greatness of some evil is hidden; for instance if the foe hides himself in ambush: and then it is true that evil inspires greater fear through being much thought about.

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

    Objection 3: Further, anger is provoked by the infliction of wounds. But anger causes daring; for the Philosopher says (Rhet. ii, 5) that “anger makes man bold.” Therefore when man is in the midst of danger and when he is being beaten, then is he most daring. On the contrary, It is said in Ethic. iii, 7 that “the daring are precipitate and full of eagerness before the danger, yet in the midst of dangers they stand aloof.” I answer that, Daring, being a movement of the sensitive appetite, follows an apprehension of the sensitive faculty. But the sensitive faculty cannot make comparisons, nor can it inquire into circumstances; its judgment is instantaneous. Now it happens sometimes that it is impossible for a man to take note in an instant of all the difficulties of a certain situation: hence there arises the movement of daring to face the danger; so that when he comes to experience the danger, he feels the difficulty to be greater than he expected, and so gives way. On the other hand, reason discusses all the difficulties of a situation. Consequently men of fortitude who face danger according to the judgment of reason, at first seem slack, because they face the danger not from passion but with due deliberation. Yet when they are in the midst of danger, they experience nothing unforeseen, but sometimes the difficulty turns out to be less than they anticipated; wherefore they are more persevering. Moreover, it may be because they face the danger on account of the good of virtue which is the abiding object of their will, however great the danger may prove: whereas men of daring face the danger on account of a mere thought giving rise to hope and banishing fear, as stated above [1412](A[3]). Reply to Objection 1: Trembling does occur in men of daring, on account of the heat being withdrawn from the outer to the inner parts of the body, as occurs also in those who are afraid. But in men of daring the heat withdraws to the heart; whereas in those who are afraid, it withdraws to the inferior parts. Reply to Objection 2: The object of love is good simply, wherefore if it be increased, love is increased simply. But the object of daring is a compound of good and evil; and the movement of daring towards evil presupposes the movement of hope towards good. If, therefore, so much difficulty be added to the danger that it overcomes hope, the movement of daring does not ensue, but fails. But if the movement of daring does ensue, the greater the danger, the greater is the daring considered to be.

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

    655. Similarly, if someone walks along a path which happens to lead directly to a well or a brook, he does not proceed straight along that path but seems to fear that he will fall into the well or brook. This happens because he judges that to fall into a well or a brook is not equally good and not good, but he judges absolutely that it is not good. However, if he were to judge that it is both good and not good, he would not avoid the above act any more than he would desire it. Therefore, since he avoids doing this and does not desire it, obviously he judges or thinks that the one course is better, namely, not to fall into the well, because fie knows that it is better. 656. And if this is true of what is good and what is not good, the same thing must apply in other cases, so that clearly one judges that one thing is a man and another not a man, and that one thing is sweet and another not sweet. This is evident from the fact that he does not seek all things to the same degree or make the same judgment about them, since he judges that it is better to drink water which is sweet than to drink that which is not sweet; and that it is better to see a man than to see something which is not a man. And from this difference in opinion it follows that he definitely desires the one and not the other; for he would have to desire both equally, i.e., both the sweet and the not-sweet, and both man and not-man, if he thought that contradictories were the same. But, as has been said before (349:C 655), there is no one who does not seem to avoid the one and not the other. So by the very fact that a man is differently disposed to various things inasmuch as he avoids some and desires others, he must not think that the same thing both is and is not. 657. It is evident, then that all men think that truth consists in affirmation alone or in negation alone and not in both at the same time. And if they do not think that this applies in all cases, they at least are of the opinion that it applies in the case of things which are good or evil or of those which are better or worse; for this difference accounts for the fact that some things are desired and others are avoided. 658. And if they (350).

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

    I. On the first head it is to be noted, (1) That he enters into a ship who follows a holy life—S. Matt. 9:1, “He entered into a ship … and came into His own city,” just as by holiness of life man passes over and comes to his heavenly city. In the following Homily it will be explained why a holy life is likened unto a ship. (2) The disturbance of the sea by the tempest represents the temptations which rise up against holiness—Ecclus. 2:1, “Son, when thou comest to the Service of God stand in justice and in fear, and prepare thy soul for temptation.” (3) The cry of the disciples in the tempest is the prayer of the saints in tribulations and temptations—Ps. 120:1, “In my distress I cried unto the Lord, and He heard me.” (4) The calm of the tempest is the cessation of temptation—Tob. 3:2, “After a storm Thou makest a calm.” Of these four—Ps. 69:23–29, “I am come into deep waters” in the ship of holiness, behold the first; “The floods overflow me,” behold the second; “I am weary of my crying,” behold the third; “Thy salvation, O God, set me up on high” above my temptations, behold the fourth. II. On the second head it is to be noted that the tempest in the sea arose from the winds. Holy Scripture speaks of four winds when temptation arises, and trouble to the saints. Firstly, from the infestation of demons: this is a cold wind—Ecclus. 43:22, “The cold north wind bloweth, and the water congealeth into crystal.” Secondly, from the perverseness of heretics: this is a blasting wind—Gen. 41:6, 7, “Seven thin ears and blasted with the east wind sprung up after them,” and “devoured the seven rank and full ears.” Thirdly, from the cruelty of tyrants: this is a vehement wind—Job. 1:19, “Behold there came a great wind from the wilderness.” Fourthly, from the malignity of false Christians: this is a burning wind—Ecclus. 11:4, “He that observeth the wind shall not sow.” Of these four, Dan. 7:2—“The four winds of heaven strove upon the great sea.”

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

    I. On the first head it is to be noted, that peace with God implies three conditions—(1) That God must be feared: Ecclus. 1:22, “The fear of the Lord is a crown of wisdom, filling up peace and the fruit of salvation.” Again, Ecclus. 1:27, “The fear of the Lord driveth out sin.” (2) That God must be hoped in: Isai. 26:3, “Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on Thee.” (3) That the commands of God must be obeyed: Isai. 48:18, “O that thou hadst hearkened to My commandments! then had thy peace been as a river.” II. On the second head it is to be noted, that three things are needful if a man would have peace with himself—(1) That he should submit himself wholly to God: Job. 22:21, 22, “Acquaint now thyself with Him and be at peace; … lay up His words in thine heart.” (2) That he should ever guard his good-will: S. Luke 2:14, “On earth peace, good-will towards men.” (3) That he should regulate every motion of the mind and body according to wisdom: Rom. 8:6, Vulg., “The wisdom of the spirit is life and peace.” S. Matt. 5:9, “Blessed are the peacemakers.” Gloss., “The peacemakers are all who order the motions of the mind and subject them to reason, and who do not disagree in these things.” III. On the third head it is to be noted, that three things are necessary to the man who desires to be in peace with his neighbour—(1) That he should do those things which are pleasing to God: Prov. 16:7, “When a man’s ways please the Lord, He maketh even his enemies to be at peace with him.” (2) That he should do no injury to anyone: 2 Cor. 6:3, “Giving no offence;” and Ps. 119:165, “Great peace have they who love Thy law.” It is the law of God that the things which we are unwilling should be done to us, we should not do to others; but that which we should wish to be done to us, that we should do to others. (3) That we should show kindness to all: Rom. 2:10, “Glory, honour, and peace to every man that worketh good. IV. On the fourth head it is to be noted, that there are three things which chiefly destroy peace—(1) Pride: Job 9:4, Vulg., “Who hath resisted Him and hath had peace?” (2) Anger: Ecclus. 28:11, “A passionate man kindleth strife, and a sinful man will trouble his friends, and bring a debate in the midst of them that are at peace.” (3) Any kind of iniquity: Isai. 48:22, “There is no peace, saith the Lord, unto the wicked.” He who desires in this present life to have peace with God, with himself, with his neighbour, and the peace of eternity for the future, must avoid these three stumbling-blocks; to which peace may we be led, &c. Amen. HOMILY V

  • From The History of Christianity II: From the Reformation to the Modern Megachurch (2017)

    63Lecture 7—War and Witchcraft in the Holy Roman Empire war seeking independence from Catholic Spain. When Frederick, the supposed Protestant messiah, had to f lee Prague after the Battle of White Mountain, the Dutch kindly took him in and let him hide out at the Hague. õFurther complicating matters, a few years after the Protestant defeat at White Mountain, the Lutheran kings of Denmark and Sweden decided to get involved too. The Protestants, who concluded that glowing prophecies about Frederick must have been mistaken, decided that the Swedish king Gustavus Adolphus was the new Protestant savior. õThe Thirty Years’ War was extremely brutal. For example, in 1631, the imperial army sacked the largest Protestant city in the empire, Magdeburg. Soldiers ransacked the city and over 20,000 people died. õBut the imperial forces weren’t quite on their way to victory. The chief minister of France, Cardinal Richelieu, had been watching all of this unfold and was increasingly alarmed that the Holy Roman Emperor was getting too powerful. õRichelieu was, of course, a Catholic, and France was a Catholic state. But religion is never the only motivation at work. By the time he maneuvered his way to the right hand of King Louis XIII, Richelieu was a master of power politics. He wanted France to be in a strong position vis-à-vis the other European rulers, and he would do pretty much anything to achieve that—even ally with Protestants. In 1635, France declared war on Spain, and the next year France declared war on the Holy Roman Empire. 64The History of Christianity II WITCH HUNTING õIn the Holy Roman Empire, enemy soldiers weren’t the only forces people feared at this time. They were also terrified of witches. In earlier centuries, many Europeans tended to scoff at anyone who believed in witchcraft. But by the end of the 15 th century, political and religious leaders had reversed themselves: It was heresy to deny that witches were real. õA few decades later, in the thick of the Thirty Years’ War, this hysteria reached its peak. Each region within Europe had its own myths and legends about witches, but we find certain patterns across different cultures. Typically a witch was a woman—though sometimes a man— who had made a pact with the devil. õSupposedly, the devil usually approached a woman who was desperate for money, or food, or in a fit of rage—someone vulnerable. He might appear to them alone in the woods and promise help, and once his recruit agreed to turn away from God and accept the devil as master, he consummated the deal sexually. Women on trial for witchcraft often described this rape in great detail.

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

    The ministers began selecting people to be representatives in the courtroom. They told Minnie, Armelia, Walter’s children, and several others to go on in. When the ministers called out Mrs. Williams, everyone seemed to smile. Mrs. Williams, an older black woman, stood up and prepared herself to enter the courtroom. She took great care in fixing her hair just right. On top of her gray hair she wore a small hat whose placement she precisely adjusted. She then pulled out a long blue scarf that she delicately wrapped around her neck. Only then did she slowly begin to make her way to the courtroom door where the line of McMillian supporters had formed. I found her dignified ritual riveting, but when the spell was broken I realized that I needed to get going myself. I hadn’t spent the morning preparing for witnesses as I had intended but had instead been drawn into this foolish mistreatment of McMillian’s supporters. I walked past the line of patient people and went inside to begin preparing for the hearing. I was standing at counsel’s table when out of the corner of my eye I saw that Mrs. Williams had made it to the courtroom door. She was quite elegant in her hat and scarf. She wasn’t a large woman, but there was something commanding about her presence—I couldn’t help but watch her as she moved carefully through the doorway toward the metal detector. She walked more slowly than everyone else, but she held her head high with an undeniable grace and dignity. She reminded me of older women I’d been around all my life—women whose lives were hard but who remained kind and dedicated themselves to building and sustaining their communities. Mrs. Williams glanced at the available rows to see where she would sit, and then turned to walk through the metal detector—and that’s when she saw the dog. I watched all her composure fall away, replaced by a look of absolute fear. Her shoulders dropped, her body sagged, and she seemed paralyzed. For over a minute she stood there, frozen, and then her body began to tremble and then shake noticeably. I heard her groan. Tears were running down her face and she began to shake her head sadly. I kept watching until she turned around and quickly walked out of the courtroom. I felt my own mood shift. I didn’t know exactly what had happened to Mrs. Williams, but I knew that here in Alabama, police dogs and black folks looking for justice had never mixed well. —

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

    I answer that, As was said ([4085]AA[2],3), in Christ according to His human nature there is a twofold will, viz. the will of sensuality, which is called will by participation, and the rational will, whether considered after the manner of nature, or after the manner of reason. Now it was said above (Q[13], A[3], ad 1; Q[14], A[1], ad 2) that by a certain dispensation the Son of God before His Passion “allowed His flesh to do and suffer what belonged to it.” And in like manner He allowed all the powers of His soul to do what belonged to them. Now it is clear that the will of sensuality naturally shrinks from sensible pains and bodily hurt. In like manner, the will as nature turns from what is against nature and what is evil in itself, as death and the like; yet the will as reason may at time choose these things in relation to an end, as in a mere man the sensuality and the will absolutely considered shrink from burning, which, nevertheless, the will as reason may choose for the sake of health. Now it was the will of God that Christ should undergo pain, suffering, and death, not that these of themselves were willed by God, but for the sake of man’s salvation. Hence it is plain that in His will of sensuality and in His rational will considered as nature, Christ could will what God did not; but in His will as reason He always willed the same as God, which appears from what He says (Mat. 26:39): “Not as I will, but as Thou wilt.” For He willed in His reason that the Divine will should be fulfilled although He said that He willed something else by another will. Reply to Objection 1: By His rational will Christ willed the Divine will to be fulfilled; but not by His will of sensuality, the movement of which does not extend to the will of God—nor by His will considered as nature which regards things absolutely considered and not in relation to the Divine will. Reply to Objection 2: The conformity of the human will to the Divine regards the will of reason: according to which the wills even of friends agree, inasmuch as reason considers something willed in its relation to the will of a friend. Reply to Objection 3: Christ was at once comprehensor and wayfarer, inasmuch as He was enjoying God in His mind and had a passible body. Hence things repugnant to His natural will and to His sensitive appetite could happen to Him in His passible flesh.

  • From Born a Crime: Stories from a South African Childhood (2016)

    He raced along Oxford Road, the lanes empty, no other cars out. I was sitting closest to the minibus’s sliding door. My mother sat next to me, holding baby Andrew. She looked out the window at the passing road and then leaned over to me and whispered, “Trevor, when he slows down at the next intersection, I’m going to open the door and we’re going to jump.” I didn’t hear a word of what she was saying, because by that point I’d completely nodded off. When we came to the next traffic light, the driver eased off the gas a bit to look around and check the road. My mother reached over, pulled the sliding door open, grabbed me, and threw me out as far as she could. Then she took Andrew, curled herself in a ball around him, and leaped out behind me. It felt like a dream until the pain hit. Bam! I smacked hard on the pavement. My mother landed right beside me and we tumbled and tumbled and rolled and rolled. I was wide awake now. I went from half asleep to What the hell?! Eventually I came to a stop and pulled myself up, completely disoriented. I looked around and saw my mother, already on her feet. She turned and looked at me and screamed. “Run!” So I ran, and she ran, and nobody ran like me and my mom. It’s weird to explain, but I just knew what to do. It was animal instinct, learned in a world where violence was always lurking and waiting to erupt. In the townships, when the police came swooping in with their riot gear and armored cars and helicopters, I knew: Run for cover. Run and hide. I knew that as a five-year-old. Had I lived a different life, getting thrown out of a speeding minibus might have fazed me. I’d have stood there like an idiot, going, “What’s happening, Mom? Why are my legs so sore?” But there was none of that. Mom said “run,” and I ran. Like the gazelle runs from the lion, I ran. The men stopped the minibus and got out and tried to chase us, but they didn’t stand a chance. We smoked them. I think they were in shock. I still remember glancing back and seeing them give up with a look of utter bewilderment on their faces. What just happened? Who’d have thought a woman with two small children could run so fast? They didn’t know they were dealing with the reigning champs of the Maryvale College sports day. We kept going and going until we made it to a twenty-four-hour petrol station and called the police. By then the men were long gone.

  • From Stone Butch Blues (1993)

    She nodded to silence me. “Yes, I do know, but it came out just fine.” We both noticed Duffy standing nearby, waiting to congratulate me. “You were right, Jess,” he told me, as he pumped my hand. “The union did win the game. My first instincts were wrong, I’m sorry.” I got myself an ice-cold beer and a piece of fried chicken and sat down alone under a tree. The air was hot, the breeze was cool. I felt on top of the world. 96 Leslie Feinberg JIM BONEY DIDN’T SHOW UP for work on Monday. I was glad. I wouldn’t have admitted this to anyone, but I was still scared of him. So when he called in sick Monday morning I walked around the plant feeling a little smug. Jack pulled me off the line and led me to a die cutter, which punched school flashcards into the shape of decks. Normally one of the guys used a powerful air hose to blow away the trim before it jammed the machine. “The air hose is being fixed,” Jack shouted over the roar of the machinery. “You assist Jan when she needs help loading her skids. Every once in a while, you brush the shit off the press, like this.” He ran his hand across the face of the die cutter in the split second between punches. “Don’t let it jam,” he warned me, before he walked away. Jan looked at the machine and back at me. “Be cateful,” she cautioned. I watched the die cutter punch the decks, trying to learn its rhythm like a song. My hand darted out and quickly brushed some of the trim away. I got most of it. My hands were trembling. When you work around machines you grow to respect their mesmerizing power. I tried to stay in sync with the punch press. Just once my hand was slow. Just once was all it took. It happened so fast. One moment my fingers were all connected to me. The next moment I could feel my ring finger lying against my palm. My blood spurted in an arc across the machine, the decks of catds stacked on skids, and the wall in front of me. I tried not to look at my left hand, but I did. My stomach heaved before my mind could even understand what my eyes saw. I couldn’t have been heard over the thunder of the machines, but it didn’t matter. I couldn’t make a sound. Everything took place in slow motion. Jan waved her arms and shouted. People came near but froze in horror. It occurred to me I should go to the hospital. I knew I couldn’t drive my motorcycle. As I walked to the door I wondered if I had enough bus fare. Walter and Duffy ran after me. The next thing I remember was being in a car. Walter had his arm around me. Duffy was driving and

  • From Tropic of Capricorn (1934)

    Perhaps the “sister,” in searching for the kerosene can, might overturn the jar of prunes which were being stewed and thus endanger all our lives by robbing us of the required calories in the morrow’s meal. A severe beating would have to be given, not in anger, because that would disturb the digestive apparatus, but silently and efficiently, as a chemist would beat up the white of an egg in preparation for a minor analysis. But the “sister,” not understanding the prophylactic nature of the punishment, would give vent to the most bloodcurdling screams and this would so affect the old man that he would go out for a walk and return two or three hours later blind drunk and, what was worse, scratching a little paint off the rolling doors in his blind staggers. The little piece of paint that had been chipped off would bring on a battle royal which was very bad for my dream life, because in my dream life I frequently changed places with my sister, accepting the tortures inflicted upon her and nourishing them with my supersensitive brain. It was in these dreams, always accompanied by the sound of glass breaking, of shrieks, curses, groans and sobs, that I gathered an unformulated knowledge of the ancient mysteries, of the rites of initiation, of the transmigration of souls and so on. It might begin with a scene from real life—the sister standing by the blackboard in the kitchen, the mother towering over her with a ruler, saying two and two makes how much? and the sister screaming five . Bang! no , seven , Bang! no , thirteen , eighteen , twenty! I would be sitting at the table, doing my lessons, just as in real life during these scenes, when by a slight twist or squirm, perhaps as I saw the ruler come down on the sister’s face, suddenly I would be in another realm where glass was unknown, as it was unknown to the Kickapoos or the Lenni-Lenape. The faces of those about me were familiar—they were my uterine relatives who, for some mysterious reason, failed to recognize me in this new ambiance . They were garbed in black and the color of their skin was ash gray, like that of the Tibetan devils. They were all fitted out with knives and other instruments of torture: they belonged to the caste of sacrificial butchers. I seemed to have absolute liberty and the authority of a god, and yet by some capricious turn of events the end would be that I’d be lying on the sacrificial block and one of my charming uterine relatives would be bending over me with a gleaming knife to cut out my heart. In sweat and terror I would begin to recite “my lessons” in a high, screaming voice, faster and faster, as I felt the knife searching for my heart.

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

    JEROME. This word is not found in the Old Scriptures, but it is first used by the Saviour. Let us enquire then into its origin. We read in more than one place that the idol Baal was near Jerusalem, at the foot of Mount Moriah, by which the brook Siloc flows. This valley and a small level plain was watered and woody, a delightful spot, and a grove in it was consecrated to the idol. To so great folly and madness had the people of Israel come, that, forsaking the neighbourhood of the Temple, they offered their sacrifices there, and concealing an austere ritual under a voluptuous life, they burned their sons in honour of a dæmon. This place was called Gehennom, that is, The valley of the children of Hinnom. These things are fully described in Kings and Chronicles, and the Prophet Jeremiah. (2 Kings 23:10. 2 Chron. 28:3. Jer. 7:32; 32:35.) God threatens that He will fill the place with the carcases of the dead, that it be no more called Tophet and Baal, but Polyandrion, i. e. The tomb of the dead. Hence the torments and eternal pains with which sinners shall be punished are signified by this word. AUGUSTINE. (De Civ. Dei, xiii. 2.) This cannot be before the soul is so joined to the body, that nothing may sever them. Yet it is rightly called the death of the soul, because it does not live of God; and the death of the body, because though man does not cease to feel, yet because this his feeling has neither pleasure, nor health, but is a pain and a punishment, it is better named death than life. CHRYSOSTOM. Note also, that He does not hold out to them deliverance from death, but encourages them to despise it; which is a much greater thing than to be rescued from death; also this discourse aids in fixing in their minds the doctrine of immortality. 10:29–3129. Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? and one of them shall not fall on the ground without your Father. 30. But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. 31. Fear ye not therefore, ye are of more value than many sparrows. CHRYSOSTOM. Having set aside fear of death, that the Apostles should not think that if they were put to death they were deserted by God, He passes to discourse of God’s providence, saying, Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing, and one of them does not fall to the ground without your Father? JEROME. If these little creations fall not without God’s superintendence and providence, and if things made to perish, perish not without God’s will, you who are immortal ought not to fear that you live without His providence.

  • From Barclay's Guide to the New Testament (2008)

    The New Testament scholar James Moffatt writes: After the Neronic wave had passed over the capital, the wash of it was felt on the far shores of the provinces; the dramatic publicity of the punishment must have spread the name of Christian urbi et orbi, far and wide, over the entire empire; the provincials would soon hear of it, and when they desired a similar outburst at the expense of the loyal Christians, all that they needed was a proconsul to gratify their wishes and some outstanding disciple to serve as a victim. Forever after, the Christians were to live under threat. The mobs of the Roman cities knew what had happened in Rome, and the slanderous stories against the Christians persisted. There were times when the mob loved blood, and there were many governors ready to pander to their blood lust. It was not Roman law but lynch law which threatened the Christians. From now on, Christians were in peril of their lives. For years, nothing might happen; then some spark might set off the explosion, and the terror would break out. That is what lies behind i Peter; and it is confronted by that situation that Peter calls his people to hope and to courage and to that lovely Christian living which alone can give the lie to the slanders with which they are attacked and which are the grounds for taking measures against them. First Peter was not written to meet theological heresy; it was written to strengthen men and women who were in danger of losing their lives. The Doubts We have set out in full the arguments which go to prove that Peter is really the author of the first letter which bears his name. But, as we have said, a number of first-class scholars have felt that it cannot have been his work. We ourselves accept the view that Peter is the author of the letter; but in fairness we set out the other side, largely as it is presented in the chapter on i Peter in The Primitive Church by B. H. Streeter. Strange Silences Charles Bigg writes in the introduction to his commentary: `There is no book in the New Testament which has earlier, better, or stronger attestation [than i Peter].' It is true that Eusebius, the great fourth-century scholar and historian of the Church, classes i Peter among the books universally accepted in the early Church as part of Scripture (Eusebius, Ecclesiastical History, 3:25:2).

  • From Bad Behavior (1988)

    It was just before dinner, and my father was upset about something that had happened to him at work. I could hear him yelling in the living room while my mother tried to comfort him. He yelled, “I’d rather work in a circus! In one of those things where you put your head through a hole and people pay to throw garbage at you!” “No circus has that anymore,” said my mother. “Stop it, Shep.” By the time I went down to eat dinner, everything was as usual. I looked at my father and felt a sickening sensation of love nailed to contempt and panic. The last time I made a typing error and the lawyer summoned me to his office, two unusual things occurred. The first was that after he finished spanking me he told me to pull up my skirt. Fear hooked my stomach and pulled it toward my chest. I turned my head and tried to look at him. “You’re not worried that I’m going to rape you, are you?” he said. “Don’t. I’m not interested in that, not in the least. Pull up your skirt.” I turned my head away from him. I thought, I don’t have to do this. I can stop right now. I can straighten up and walk out. But I didn’t. I pulled up my skirt. “Pull down your panty hose and underwear.” A finger of nausea poked my stomach. “I told you I’m not going to fuck you. Do what I say.” The skin on my face and throat was hot, but my fingertips were cold on my legs as I pulled down my underwear and pantyhose. The letter before me became distorted beyond recognition. I thought I might faint or vomit, but I didn’t. I was held up by a feeling of dizzying suspension, like the one I have in dreams where I can fly, but only if I get into some weird position. At first he didn’t seem to be doing anything. Then I became aware of a small frenzy of expended energy behind me. I had an impression of a vicious little animal frantically burrowing dirt with its tiny claws and teeth. My hips were sprayed with hot sticky muck. “Go clean yourself off,” he said. “And do that letter again.” I stood slowly, and felt my skirt fall over the sticky gunk. He briskly swung open the door and I left the room, not even pulling up my panty hose and underwear, since I was going to use the bathroom anyway. He closed the door behind me, and the second unusual thing occurred. Susan, the paralegal, was standing in the waiting room with a funny look on her face.

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