Fear

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.

Page 326 of 529 · 20 per page

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

  Reply to Objection 1: The fear which is a beginning of love is servile fear, which is the herald of charity, just as the bristle introduces the thread, as Augustine states (Tract. ix in Ep. i Joan.). Or else, if it be referred to initial fear, this is said to be the beginning of love, not absolutely, but relatively to the state of perfect charity. Reply to Objection 2: Initial fear does not dread punishment as its proper object, but as having something of servile fear connected with it: for this servile fear, as to its substance, remains indeed, with charity, its servility being cast aside; whereas its act remains with imperfect charity in the man who is moved to perform good actions not only through love of justice, but also through fear of punishment, though this same act ceases in the man who has perfect charity, which “casteth out fear,” according to 1 Jn. 4:18. Reply to Objection 3: Initial fear is a mean between servile and filial fear, not as between two things of the same genus, but as the imperfect is a mean between a perfect being and a non-being, as stated in Metaph. ii, for it is the same substantially as the perfect being, while it differs altogether from non-being. Whether fear is a gift of the Holy Ghost?Objection 1: It would seem that fear is not a gift of the Holy Ghost. For no gift of the Holy Ghost is opposed to a virtue, which is also from the Holy Ghost; else the Holy Ghost would be in opposition to Himself. Now fear is opposed to hope, which is a virtue. Therefore fear is not a gift of the Holy Ghost. Objection 2: Further, it is proper to a theological virtue to have God for its object. But fear has God for its object, in so far as God is feared. Therefore fear is not a gift, but a theological virtue. Objection 3: Further, fear arises from love. But love is reckoned a theological virtue. Therefore fear also is a theological virtue, being connected with the same matter, as it were. Objection 4: Further, Gregory says (Moral. ii, 49) that “fear is bestowed as a remedy against pride.” But the virtue of humility is opposed to pride. Therefore again, fear is a kind of virtue. Objection 5: Further, the gifts are more perfect than the virtues, since they are bestowed in support of the virtues as Gregory says (Moral. ii, 49). Now hope is more perfect than fear, since hope regards good, while fear regards evil. Since, then, hope is a virtue, it should not be said that fear is a gift. On the contrary, The fear of the Lord is numbered among the seven gifts of the Holy Ghost (Is. 11:3).

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

  BEDE. (in Marc. 3, 38) In all cases, the difference between the mind of the Scribes and of the people ought to be observed; for the Scribes arc never said to have shewn any devotion, faith, humility, and reverence, but as soon as the Lord was come, the whole multitude was greatly amazed and feared, and ran up to Him, and saluted Him; wherefore there follows, And running to him, saluted him. THEOPHYLACT. For the multitude was glad to see Him, so that they saluted Him from afar, as He was coming to them; but some suppose that His countenance had become more beautiful from His transfiguration, and that this induced the crowd to salute Him. PSEUDO-JEROME. Now it was the people, and not the disciples, who on seeing Him were amazed and feared, for there is no fear in love; fear belongs to servants, amazement to fools. It goes on: And he asked them, What question ye with them. Why does the Lord put this question? That confession may produce salvation, and the murmuring of our hearts may be appeased by religious words. BEDE. (ubi sup.) The question, indeed, which was raised may, if I am not deceived, have been this, wherefore they, who were the disciples of the Saviour, were unable to heal the demoniac, who was placed in the midst, which may be gathered from the following words; And one of the multitude answered and said, Master, I have brought unto thee my son, which hath a dumb spirit; and wheresoever he taketh him, he teareth him: and he foameth, and gnasheth with his teeth, and pineth away. CHRYSOSTOM. (ubi sup.) The Scriptures declare that this man was weak in faith, for Christ says, O faithless generation: and He adds, If thou canst believe. But although his want of faith was the cause of their not casting out the devil, he nevertheless accuses the disciples; wherefore it is added, And I spake to thy disciples that they should cast him out; but they could not. Now observe his folly; in praying to Jesus in the midst of the crowd, he accuses the disciples, wherefore the Lord before the multitude so much the more accuses him, and not only aims the accusation at himself, but also extends it to all the Jews; for it is probable that many of those present had been offended, and had held wrong thoughts concerning His disciples. Wherefore there follows, He answereth them and saith, O faithless generation, how long shall I be with you? how long shall I suffer you? By which He shewed both that He desired death, and that it was a burden to Him to converse with them.

• From Love & Sex: A Christian Guide to Healthy Intimacy (2018)

  Sadly, the Man is silent during the exchange, and neither the Man nor the Woman bother to consult with God. Consider if they would have looked at each other and said, “Hey, God has a stellar track record with us. He has only provided wondrous things for us, we live in paradise, we eat organic fruits and veggies, we swim whenever we want to, and we have a lot of fun together. We have never experienced Him withholding anything good from us. Let’s wait—He should be here soon—and we can talk this over with Him before we listen to this creepy snake.” But Man remained silent and Woman acted on her own. We see the same scenario today, with male and female and what harms our relationships with each other. The serpent planted doubt in Woman, and every woman has been marked by doubt since then. We ask ourselves, “Is God really good? Can I trust Him? Maybe I should take things into my own hands—maybe if I have sex with this guy he will love me and give me the love I so hunger for? Maybe he will be faithful to me, if I give him everything I have?” Or, “I don’t need a man or relationships. I can make it on my own.” Because this is a book on sexuality, I will point out how the Fall affected our sexual decision making. First, the Man was passive. Passivity paralyzes a man and leaves him feeling inadequate, feeling less than; in extremes, he begins to believe he is a loser. Some men get stuck in either one of two shame-inducing extremes. Either too fearful to even approach a female or, if he happens to find a woman, he hides himself from her, believing if she knew the real him she would run. Or he spends his life trying to prove his masculinity through sexual conquests—proving to himself and others that he is indeed adequate. The story continues, “When the Woman saw that the tree looked like good eating and realized what she would get out of it—she’d know everything!—she took and ate the fruit and then gave some to her husband, and he ate” (Gen 3:6). Yep, now we know it all. Lucky us, instead of male and female having paradise and a lot of sexual fun together in a committed, covenantal, safe relationship, now we have a lot of heartache; because when she ate, we all ate, and our eyes have been opened to evil, and sometimes it looks pretty tempting, especially before we count the cost of the consequences of shame.

• From The Laws of Human Nature (2018)

  It is often best to avoid the group setting if possible in order to maintain your reasoning powers, or to enter such moments with maximum skepticism. Be aware of demagogues who exploit the group effect and stimulate outbreaks of irrationality. They inevitably resort to certain devices. In a group setting, they begin by warming up the crowd, talking about ideas and values that everyone shares, creating a pleasant feeling of agreement. They rely on vague but loaded words full of emotive quality such as justice or truth or patriotism . They talk of abstract, noble goals rather than the solving of specific problems with concrete action. Demagogues in politics or the media try to stir a continual sense of panic, urgency, and outrage. They must keep the emotional levels high. Your defense is simple: Consider your reasoning powers, your ability to think for yourself, your most precious possession. Resent any kind of intrusion upon your independent mind by others. When you feel you are in the presence of a demagogue, become doubly wary and analytical. — A final word on the irrational in human nature: do not imagine that the more extreme types of irrationality have somehow been overcome through progress and enlightenment. Throughout history we witness continual cycles of rising and falling levels of the irrational. The great golden age of Pericles, with its philosophers and its first stirrings of the scientific spirit, was followed by an age of superstition, cults, and intolerance. This same phenomenon happened after the Italian Renaissance. That this cycle is bound to recur again and again is part of human nature. The irrational simply changes its look and its fashions. We may no longer have literal witch hunts, but in the twentieth century, not so very long ago, we witnessed the show trials of Stalin, the McCarthy hearings in the U.S. Senate, and the mass persecutions during the Chinese Cultural Revolution. Various cults are continually being generated, including cults of personality and the fetishizing of celebrities. Technology now inspires religious fervor. People have a desperate need to believe in something and they will find it anywhere. Polls have revealed that increasing numbers of people believe in ghosts, spirits, and angels, in the twenty-first century. As long as there are humans, the irrational will find its voices and means of spreading. Rationality is something to be acquired by individuals, not by mass movements or technological progress. Feeling superior and beyond it is a sure sign that the irrational is at work. Step Three: Strategies Toward Bringing Out the Rational Self Despite our pronounced irrational tendencies, two factors should give us all hope. First and foremost is the existence throughout history and in all cultures of people of high rationality, the types who have made progress possible. They serve as ideals for all of us to aim for.

• From The Laws of Human Nature (2018)

  Then in June of 1791 came the most startling news of all: the king and his family had somehow escaped from Paris in a carriage. A few days later they were caught. It would all have been rather comical if it hadn’t been so alarming. The family members had been dressed like everyday members of the bourgeoisie out on holiday, but they had ridden in a splendid carriage that did not match their outfits and that called attention to itself. They had been recognized, captured, and returned to the capital. Now Danton sensed that his moment had arrived. The liberals and moderates in the revolution were trying to maintain that the king was innocent, that he had been duped into escaping or even abducted. They feared what would happen to France if the monarchy was abolished and how the foreign armies, now within the country’s borders, would react if anything happened to the king. But to Danton this was absurd. They were merely postponing the inevitable. The monarchy had lost its meaning and purpose; the king had revealed himself to be a traitor, and they must not be afraid to say so. It was time, he proclaimed, for France to declare itself a republic and get rid of the monarchy once and for all. His call for a republic began to resonate, particularly among the sans-culottes . As a sign of his growing influence, Danton was elected to his first official position—deputy prosecutor for the commune in charge of Paris—and he began to fill the commune with his sympathizers, preparing for something large. The following summer a large contingent of sans-culottes from Marseilles was in Paris to celebrate the third anniversary of the revolution. The men from Marseilles, enthused by Danton’s calls for a republic, placed themselves under his charge, and throughout June and July they marched through Paris singing hymns to the revolution and spreading Danton’s demand for the formation of a republic. Each day more and more people joined the men from Marseilles. Quietly planning his coup, Danton gained control of the commune. Its members now voted to lift the blockade on the various bridges of Paris leading to the Tuileries from the Left Bank, effectively ending any protection for the royal family, as crowds could now march straight to the palace. On the morning of August 10, alarm bells rang out throughout the city, and accompanied by a steady drumbeat, an enormous contingent of Parisians marched across several bridges to invade the Tuileries. Most of the guards protecting the palace scattered, and soon the royal family was forced to flee for their lives, taking refuge in the nearby hall where the National Assembly met. The crowd quickly massacred the remaining soldiers guarding the palace and took it over. Danton’s gambit had worked—the people had spoken and the National Assembly voted to end the monarchy, stripping the king and his family of any powers and protections that had remained. In one

• From The Laws of Human Nature (2018)

  They can be the court cynic and scoffer, who has license to poke fun at almost everyone and everything, including sometimes the leaders themselves, who tolerate this because it shows their apparent lack of insecurity and sense of humor. Another variety is the domesticated rebel. Such types are allowed to go against the dress code, display looser behavior, and espouse unconventional opinions. They can be a bit flamboyant. In meetings, unlike anyone else, they are allowed to come up with wild opinions contrary to the group. Such nonconformists prove that the leaders encourage the free exchange of opinions, at least in appearance. These types fall into such roles because secretly they have a fear of responsibility and a dread of failing. They know that as Jesters they are not taken seriously and are given little actual power. Their humor and antics give them a place in the court without the stress of actually having to get things done. Their “rebelliousness” never really represents a threat or challenge to the status quo. In fact, they make it so others in the group can feel a bit superior to the in-house oddball, more comfortable in conforming to the norm. Never take their existence as a sign that you can freely imitate their behavior. There is rarely more than one Jester per court for a reason. If you feel the pull to rebel against the norms of the group, better to keep it as subtle as possible. Often the modern court will tolerate differences in appearances but not so much in ideas and political correctness. Better to reserve your nonconformity for your private life, or until you have amassed more power. The Mirrorer: These types are often among the most successful courtiers of all, because they are capable of playing the double game to the hilt—they are adept at charming leaders and fellow courtiers, maintaining a broad base of support. Their power is based on the idea that everyone at heart is a narcissist. They are masters at reflecting back to people their own moods and ideas, making them feel validated without sensing the manipulation, as opposed to using overt flattery. In the court of Franklin Delano Roosevelt, Frances Perkins, FDR’s secretary of labor and longtime adviser, was the consummate player of this game. She had high levels of empathy and could sense Roosevelt’s moods. She would adapt to them. She knew he loved to hear stories, so any idea she presented to him she would present with some type of story line, and this would charm him. She listened to whatever he said with much more attention than anyone else and could later refer verbatim to something “brilliant” he had said, which proved how deeply she had listened.

• From Stone Butch Blues (1993)

  The booze hit my brain like a ton of bricks. I wished I hadn’t had so many drinks. The bartender came over and began wiping the table we were sitting at. “Time to go,” he said. We recognized the hatred on the faces of men who were blocking the door we would have gone out of. The bartender nodded toward the back door. “Time to go.” We grabbed our bags and raced out the back door and into Grant’s car. I locked the doors as she started the engine. Several of the men fanned out across the parking lot. One of them had a tire iron. Grant peeled rubber. She drove right over the curb and in front of an oncoming car that swerved and hit a parked car. Grant took off at full speed until we were safely away. We stopped in front of my house. Each of us lit a cigarette. My hands trembled. “Jeez, Grant. You got a shot at the Indy 500.” She didn’t smile. I knew she was too drunk to be behind the wheel. “C’mon upstairs with me,” I told her. “You can drive home later.” Grant shook her head. “Where are you going?” I asked het. She shook her head. “I don’t know.” “C’mon upstairs with me,” I urged again, but I knew it was no use. Grant flicked her cigarette out the cat window and started up the engine. Before I closed the car door I told her, “Hey, Grant. Try telling those guys back there you’re not butch.” Grant looked at me. It was hard not to turn away from the sadness in her eyes. I pointed to the reatview mirror. “You look at yourself and tell me you're not butch. You are what you are, Grant. You don’t need to prove it.” Grant handed me her package of hormones. “Are you sure?” I asked her. She shrugged. “Pm not sure of anything right now.” When I got upstairs I called Edwin’s house and let the phone ring a long, long time. I drank a beer before I took out the syringes and looked at them. Needles scared me so much I couldn’t believe I was about to stab myself with one. I examined the vials of hormones as though their mysteries would reveal themselves to me right there at the kitchen table. They didn’t. I went into the bathroom, took off my chinos, and hung them on the bathroom door. I sat down on the toilet seat and prepared the syringe. Was I really going to do this? I thought about one of Grant’s questions that hit too close to home. Would I ever lie in a woman’s arms again? For just a moment I remembered the sheer pleasure of Theresa’s arms around me. It made me feel even more alone. I flashed with anger at Theresa. She didn’t love me enough to stay when it was hard. My life ran through my head like a movie I

• From Stone Butch Blues (1993)

  I remembered what it was like to walk a gauntlet of strangers who stare—their eyes angry, confused, intrigued. Woman or man: they are outraged that I confuse them. The punishment will follow. The 244 Leslie Feinberg only recognition I can find in their eyes is that I am “other.” I am different. I will always be different. I will never be able to nestle my skin against the comfort of sameness. “How the hell should I know what it is?” the man behind the counter remarked to a customer as I walked away. The pronoun echoed in my ears. I had gone to being an it. Before, strangers had raged at me for being a woman who crossed a forbidden boundary. Now they really didn’t know what my sex was, and that was unimaginable, terrifying to them. Woman or man— the bedrock crumbled beneath their feet as I passed by. How the hell should I know what it is? I had forgotten how hard this was to endure. But I knew I was emerging into the next phase of my life. Fear and excitement gnawed at me. There was not much keeping me in Buffalo any longer. Yet I was still afraid to leave. I wanted to believe that whatever home I was looking for, P’'d find it here. But the time had come to accept that my home might be waiting for me somewhere else. Or maybe I had to travel in order to find that home inside myself. In any case, there were jobs in New York City. The dispatcher at the temp agency told me I could get work in Manhattan. And he said the twenty-four-hour movie theaters in Times Square were the cheapest hotels in the city. While I told myself I couldn’t move because I didn’t have enough money, deep down I feared New York would chew me up and spit me out. It wasn’t just the hope of steady work that drew me there, however; it was partly the anonymity that attracted me. Somehow it seemed easier to be a stranger in a city of strangers. And I hoped I might find others like me there. Only fear kept me in Buffalo. One morning I came downstairs and found an oil slick where my Harley had been parked. I couldn’t believe it had been stolen. I walked around the block for an hour trying to convince myself I'd simply forgotten where I’d parked it. When I finally sat down on the curb and faced that my bike was gone, I knew it was time to leave Buffalo. As the Amtrak train pulled out of the Buffalo station I felt as though Td left myself behind. I didn’t know what lay ahead, but the train was hurtling through the darkness toward that destination. The winter sky was as blue as a childhood dream, and the clouds formed shapes waiting to be

• From Stone Butch Blues (1993)

  One nurse approached my bed. I could still smell the faint scent of urine on the sheets even after they'd dried. Would she take me away if she smelled it too? She studied her clipboard. “Goldberg, Jess.” It frightened me to hear her say my name. “I don’t have a signature on this one,” she told the orderlies. They all left the room. “Goldberg, Jess,” the old woman shouted over and over again. After lunch I snuck back into my room to get my yo-yo. Paula was sitting on her bed, staring at her slippers. She looked at me and cocked her head. She extended her hand to me. “I’m Paula,” she said. “Nice to meetcha.” A nurse came into the room. “You,” she said, pointing at me. I followed her back to the nurse’s station. She held out two paper cups. Beautiful colored pills rolled around in one, the other was filled with water. I stared at both cups. “Take them,” the nurse ordered. “Don’t give me a hard time.” I already sensed that giving the staff a hard time might mean never getting out of there, so I took the pills. Soon after I swallowed them the floor began to tilt as I walked. They made me feel like I was moving through glue. Stone Butch Blues V1 Every day I turned out more trivets and moccasins. I began to care about a woman who talked to ghosts I couldn’t see. And I discovered Norton’s anthology of poetry in the patients’ library—it changed my life. I read the poems over and over again before I began to grasp their meanings. It wasn’t just that the words were musical notes my eyes could sing, It was the discovery that women and men, long dead, had left me messages about their feelings, emotions I could compare to my own. I had finally found others who were as lonely as I was. In an odd way, that knowledge comforted me. Three weeks after ’d been brought to this ward, a nurse took me to an office. A man with a beard sat behind a big desk smoking his pipe. He told me he was my doctor. He said I seemed to be making progress, that being young was difficult, that I was going through an awkward stage. “Do you know why you're here?” he asked me. I had learned a lot in three weeks. I realized that the world could do more than just judge me, it wielded tremendous power over me. I didn’t care anymore if my parents didn’t love me. I had accepted that fact in the three weeks I’d survived alone in this hospital. But now I didn’t care. I hated them. And I 18 Leslie Feinberg didn’t trust them. I didn’t trust anyone. My mind was focused on escape. I wanted to get out of this place and run away from home.

• From Stone Butch Blues (1993)

  My parents didn’t talk about finding me in their bedroom in my father’s clothes. I prayed I was off the hook. But one day shortly afterward, my mother and father unexpectedly took me for a ride. They said they were bringing me to the hospital for a blood test. We rode up in an elevator to the floor where the test was supposed to be done. Two huge men in white uniforms took me off the elevator. My parents stayed on. Then the men turned and locked the gate, barring the elevator. I reached for my parents, but they wouldn’t even look at me as the elevator door closed. Terror sat on my chest like an elephant. I could hardly breathe. A nurse explained the rules of my stay: I must get up in the morning and stay out on the ward all day. I must wear a dress, sit with my knees crossed, be polite, and smile when I was spoken to. I nodded as though I understood. I was still in shock. I was the only kid on the ward. They put me in a room with two women. One was a very old white woman who they kept tied to the bed. She keened and called out the names of people who weren’t there. The other white woman was younger. “I’m Paula,” she said, extending her hand. “Nice to meetcha.” Her wrists were bandaged. She explained to me that her parents had forbade her to ever see her boyfriend again because he was Black. She slit her wrists in grief, and so they put her in this place. We played ping-pong together for the rest of the day. Paula taught me the words to “Are You Lonesome Tonight?” She laughed and applauded as I dropped my voice low like Elvis. “Make trivets and moccasins,” Paula advised me. “Make lots of ’em. The more the better. They like that.” I didn’t know what a trivet was. That night I had trouble sleeping. I heard men whispering and laughing as they came into my room. I wrapped the sheets tightly around my body and lay very still in silence. I heard the sound of a zipper opening. The smell of urine filled my nostrils. More laughter, and then the sounds of footsteps getting further and further away. My sheets were soaked. I was afraid I might be blamed and punished. Who had done this to me, and why? [’d ask Paula in the morning, Nurses and orderlies came into our room when the light was still grey behind the barred windows. “Rise and shine,” they shouted. The old woman began calling out names. Paula fought the orderlies, bit their hands. They cursed her, strapped her down, and wheeled her out of the room.

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

  JAPANESE DOMINATION õ From 1910 to 1945, Korea was under Japanese domination. The Japanese wanted Korean subjects to sever all relations with missionary groups and other foreign organizations, and to take part in the rituals of Japanese traditional religion, Shinto. õ In the Shinto worldview, Japan was a paradise created by the gods, and participating in Shinto rites at public shrines was a required demonstration of political loyalty. The Vatican saw that Korean Catholics were in a tight spot and signed a concordat with the Japanese government in 1936, basically saying that Catholics can do that; their activity at the shrines is not idol-worship but an act of patriotism. õ Protestants got into more tangles with the Japanese government: They pushed back against Japanese efforts to turn Korean schools into secular, Japanese-language operations. Christians were accused of trying to assassinate the governor general, and when some Korean activists got together in 1919 to sign a declaration of independence, nearly half of them were Protestant. õ In the government’s eyes, Christianity in general, and Protestantism in particular, seemed like a cult devoted to overthrowing the regime (even though most Korean Christians advocated for nonviolent resistance). Japanese troops burned churches, arrested and executed Christian leaders, and at least once herded Christians into their church and set it on fire. AFTER DIVISION õ With the end of World War II, the Allied powers ended Japanese rule in Korea. American forces occupied the south, and the Soviets held the north. This situation led to the establishment of two rival regimes: the Republic of Korea in the South, and the communist Democratic People’s Republic of Korea in the North. Under the leadership of 346 The History of Christianity II

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

  She went to the rubbish bin. “It’s in here.” She lifted out the rubbish, pulled out the folded newspaper underneath, and opened it up, and there was my little turd. She showed it to gran. “Look!” “What?! How did it get there?!” Koko, still blind, still stuck in her chair, was dying to know what was happening. “What’s going on?!” she cried. “What’s going on?! Did you find it?!” “It’s shit,” Mom said. “There’s shit in the bottom of the dustbin.” “But how?!” Koko said. “There was no one here!” “Are you sure there was no one here?” “Yes. I called out to everyone. Nobody came.” My mother gasped. “We’ve been bewitched! It’s a demon!” For my mother, this was the logical conclusion. Because that’s how witchcraft works. If someone has put a curse on you or your home, there is always the talisman or totem, a tuft of hair or the head of a cat, the physical manifestation of the spiritual thing, proof of the demon’s presence. Once my mom found the turd, all hell broke loose. This was serious. They had evidence. She came into the bedroom. “Trevor! Trevor! Wake up!” “What?!” I said, playing dumb. “What’s going on?!” “Come! There’s a demon in the house!” She took my hand and dragged me out of bed. It was all hands on deck, time for action. The first thing we had to do was go outside and burn the shit. That’s what you do with witchcraft; the only way to destroy it is to burn the physical thing. We went out to the yard, and my mom put the newspaper with my little turd on the driveway, lit a match, and set it on fire. Then my mom and my gran stood around the burning shit, praying and singing songs of praise. The commotion didn’t stop there because when there’s a demon around, the whole community has to join together to drive it out. If you’re not part of the prayer, the demon might leave our house and go to your house and curse you. So we needed everyone. The alarm was raised. The call went out. My tiny old gran was out the gate, going up and down the block, calling to all the other old grannies for an emergency prayer meeting. “Come! We’ve been bewitched!” I stood there, my shit burning in the driveway, my poor aged grandmother tottering up and down the street in a panic, and I didn’t know what to do. I knew there was no demon, but there was no way I could come clean. The hiding I would have to endure? Good Lord. Honesty was never the best policy when it came to a hiding. I kept quiet. Moments later the grannies came streaming in with their Bibles, through the gate and up the driveway, a dozen or more at least. Everyone went inside. The house was packed.

• From Stone Butch Blues (1993)

  Her words confirmed what I'd feared most—Id asked for too much. I stood up slowly and staggered to the door. Ruth put her hand on the door. “Jess, sit down. Where are you going?” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. I looked at her calmly, hiding the crisis of rejection. “Honey,” she stroked my cheek. “I’m so sorry. I just don’t want it to be you. C’mon, honey. Please. Come.” Ruth guided me to her bedroom. I covered my eyes against the sunlight streaming in her window. She pulled the shades. Ruth laid me down on her bed. I could feel the embroidered edges of her pillowcases against my cheek. My head hurt even worse when I lay down. I sat up, unable to explain why. Ruth touched the back of my head. I winced in pain. She stared at her hand in horror. It was coveted with blood. “Jess,” she whispered, “Tm afraid.” My eyes narrowed in anticipation of another rejection. Ruth lifted my hand in both of hers and kissed each bruised knuckle. I wasn’t afraid to die in her bed with my hand in hers. She gently pressed my head against her body. It hurt, but I needed her closeness. Her voice dropped low, like a whisper: “I once read in an old drag magazine about a time, long, long ago, when people like us were honored. If I had the power, Jess, I’d take you back and leave you there with people who would cate for you as much as I do. I’d know you were safe, and you’d be loved.” I tried to sit up. “Lean against me, Jess. You need to rest.” I moaned as I tried to lay my head against her 285 Stone Butch Blues breastbone. Ruth propped me up with pillows. She curled up between my thighs and stroked my chest with her wide hand. “Shh,” she whispered. “I know you're frightened, too, but it’s gonna be alright. It’s always the worst when they hurt my head. I’m always afraid I'll lose my thoughts, my memories. ’m scared Tl lose me. Is that how you're feeling?” She wiped the tears from my cheeks. I closed my eyes. “Try to stay awake, honey.” She pleaded. “Please. I’m afraid for you to fall asleep right now.” I wanted to go away. “T’ll tell you stories,” she smiled. “Pll tell you about where I grew up. Would you like thatr”’ I blinked back to consciousness and nodded. Ruth rested her cheek against my chest and squeezed me tight. “Oh, Jess. I wish I could show you the vineyards. I wish you could smell the grapes in the fall air.” Ruth looked up at me and smiled. “Someday I’m going to make you grape pie. After my Grandma Anne’s and my mama’s, I make the best grape pie in the valley.” Grape pie didn’t sound very good to me, but it didn’t matter much at the moment.

• From The Laws of Human Nature (2018)

  as he had done in the privacy of his own office. It was as if he were another person on those tapes. Alexander Haig, who was now his chief of staff, told Nixon he had to tear out the taping system and destroy the tapes immediately, before receiving an official subpoena. Nixon seemed paralyzed: Destroying the tapes would be an admission of guilt; perhaps the tapes would exonerate him, as they would prove he had never directly ordered the break-in. But the thought of any of these tapes becoming public terrified him. He went back and forth on this in his mind, but in the end he decided to not destroy them. By invoking executive privilege he would resist handing them over. Finally, as pressure mounted, in April 1974 Nixon decided to release edited transcripts of the tapes in the form of a 1,200-page book and hope for the best. The public was horrified by what it read. Yes, many had thought him slippery and devious, but the forceful language, the swearing, the sometimes hysterical, paranoid tone of his conversation, and the utter lack of compunction or hesitation in ordering various illegal acts revealed a side of Nixon they had never suspected. Even members of his family were shocked. When it came to Watergate, he seemed very weak and indecisive, not at all the de Gaulle image he wanted to project. He never once showed the slightest desire to get at the truth and punish the wrongdoers. Where was the man of law and order? On July 24 came the final blow: the Supreme Court ordered him to hand over the tapes themselves, and among them would be the recorded conversation of June 23, 1972, in which he had approved of using the CIA to quash the FBI investigation. This was the “smoking gun” that revealed his involvement in the cover-up from early on. Nixon was doomed, and although it was against everything he believed in, by early August he decided to resign. The morning after he delivered his resignation speech to the country, Nixon addressed his staff one last time, and fighting to control his emotions, he concluded, “Never get discouraged, never be petty; always remember, others may hate you, but those who hate you don’t win unless you hate them, and then you destroy yourself.” Along with his family, he then got into the helicopter that was to take him into political exile. • • • Interpretation: For those who worked closely with Richard Nixon, the man was an enigma. According to his chief speechwriter, Ray Price, there were two Nixons, one light, one dark. The light Nixon was “exceptionally considerate, exceptionally caring, sentimental, generous of spirit, kind.” The dark Nixon was “angry, vindictive, ill-tempered, mean-spirited.” He saw both sides as being “at constant war with one another.” But perhaps the most perceptive observer of Nixon, the one closest to figuring out the enigma, was Henry

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

  õ If Christians believe that Jesus already came and died for our sins, why does he need to show up a second time? The creed approved by the Council of Nicaea in the year 325 answers this question for us. The Nicene Creed says that Christ will “come again in glory to judge the living and the dead,” and that “his kingdom will have no end.” õ Jesus is said to be coming again as a judge in order to bring eternal justice. At that time, Jesus will finally defeat the evil forces of sin embodied in all of those beings who’ve rebelled against God, particularly Satan. õ Atonement—meaning Christ’s sacrifice for human sin through death on the cross—provided a path to salvation for humans who believe in the Christian message. But the final victory over evil wasn’t fully realized then and there. Christ will finish the job during the Second Coming. õ Many Christians—though not all—believe that the book of Revelation predicts some of the things that will happen right before and after Jesus’s Second Coming. Revelation paints a very scary picture of earthquakes, rivers running with blood, and evil leaders coming to power. There are demonic figures, like the Antichrist and the Beast, who are intent on warring against God and his saints so that they can establish their own kingdom on Earth. 232 The History of Christianity II

• From Stone Butch Blues (1993)

  I smiled. “Bet you your glove we will.” The grin melted off Boney’s face. He loved his first-base mitt the way most people love their puppy dogs. He kept it in his locker at work every day, even in the wintertime. “And if you lose?” he countered. All eyes turned toward me. The smile grew back on Boney’s face. “If you lose, Goldberg, you gotta kiss me.” “Ewww, yecch,” everyone moaned. Some of them spit on the ground for emphasis. “C’mon,” I told the other butches, “let’s get our equipment.” Jan shook her head as we gathered on the field in a huddle. “T don’t know about this,’ Grant muttered. “Look,” I admitted, “I made a mistake, OK? I knew it the minute the words were out of my damn mouth. I’m sorry. All we can do is play our best game and I'll take the consequences.” Grant threw her glove down and put her hands on her hips. “We’ll all pay if we lose, that’s what’s so fucked up about it.” Frankie intervened. “She said she was sorry. So let’s win, OK?” That was easier said than done. The men’s team scored two runs in the first inning. We couldn’t seem to handle the field at all. I wondered why we were playing so poorly. After all, most of the guys weren’t in great shape. We played every week. Maybe we were intimidated because we believed they were better than us. I suddenly got a sick feeling in my stomach when I realized three innings might not be enough for a team of he-shes to overcome out fear. “C’mon,” I said as we huddled between innings. “Can’t we show them we got power?” We scored two runs, but the guys scored two also. We were two runs down. Between innings, Frankie asked what would happen if we tied. Jan exploded. “Listen to this shit,” she growled. “Why don’t we just admit we lost the game now, huh? Why even play another inning?” Her voice got real low and menacing. “This is no fucking joke. You just think what it’d be like to have to watch Jess kiss Jim Boney. I’m not gonna stand by and let that happen.” That was my friend, Butch Jan. We took our positions to play, and play we did. We scored three runs—five to four, our favor. But when Frankie headed into home plate, Jim Boney smacked her on the back so hard with the ball she hit the dirt. We all charged Boney, ready to kill him. Jack and his assistant closed ranks with Boney. No one could tell if all the men were squared off against the he-shes, or if it was just those three guys against us. Duffy rushed up between the butches and the men. “Jack, you took Frankie out, you fucking bastard. If they’re down one man, so’s your team. You’re out of the game.” Stone Butch Blues 93

• From The Laws of Human Nature (2018)

  conveniently cause us to have to leave the scene. It could be love— desperately searching to re-create a close parental or sibling relationship in the present, triggered by someone who vaguely reminds us of the lost paradise. It could be extreme mistrust, originating from an authority figure in early childhood who disappointed or betrayed us, generally the father. This often triggers a sudden rebellious attitude. The great danger here is that in misreading the present and reacting to something in the past, we create conflict, disappointments, and mistrust that only strengthen the wound. In some ways, we are programmed to repeat the early experience in the present. Our only defense is awareness as it is happening. We can recognize a trigger point by the experience of emotions that are unusually primal, more uncontrollable than normal. They trigger tears, deep depression, or excessive hope. People under the spell of these emotions will often have a very different tone of voice and body language, as if they were physically reliving a moment from early life. In the midst of such an attack, we must struggle to detach ourselves and contemplate the possible source—the wound in early childhood—and the patterns it has locked us into. This deep understanding of ourselves and our vulnerabilities is a key step toward becoming rational. Sudden Gains or Losses Sudden success or winnings can be very dangerous. Neurologically, chemicals are released in the brain that give a powerful jolt of arousal and energy, leading to the desire to repeat this experience. It can be the start of any kind of addiction and manic behavior. Also, when gains come quickly we tend to lose sight of the basic wisdom that true success, to really last, must come through hard work. We do not take into account the role that luck plays in such sudden gains. We try again and again to recapture that high from winning so much money or attention. We acquire feelings of grandiosity. We become especially resistant to anyone who tries to warn us—they don’t understand, we tell ourselves. Because this cannot be sustained, we experience an inevitable fall, which is all the more painful, leading to the depression part of the cycle. Although gamblers are the most prone to this, it equally applies to businesspeople during bubbles and to people who gain sudden attention from the public. Unexpected losses or a string of losses equally create irrational reactions. We imagine we are cursed with bad luck and that this will go on indefinitely. We become fearful and hesitant, which will often lead to more mistakes or failures. In sports, this can induce what is known as choking, as previous losses and misses weigh on the mind and tighten it up. The solution here is simple: whenever you experience unusual gains or losses, that is precisely the time to step back and counterbalance them with some necessary pessimism or optimism.

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

  õ In 1905, Lenin published an essay describing religion as “spiritual booze” that taught people “to be submissive and patient while here on earth, and to take comfort in the hope of a heavenly reward.” But he called for religion to be treated as a “private affair,” and said people should be able to choose any religion, or none at all. õ However, the Orthodox Church was an obvious rival to the Bolsheviks for the loyalties of the people. And the Bolsheviks took aim almost immediately. They didn’t officially ban the church, but they seized church property and rounded up any priest or bishop who didn’t profess total loyalty to the Russian Revolution—and even some who did. õ Some clergy ended up in prison camps and mental hospitals—and those were the lucky ones. Others were tortured and executed as enemies of the revolution. In the 1920s, as the chaos in the provinces led to widespread famine, the Bolsheviks whipped up resentment against the church by charging that priests and bishops had refused to turn over their valuables to be sold to help feed the people. They capitalized on that long history of church privilege at the expense of ordinary believers. õ As for the dissenters who got a break after the 1905 law on religious toleration: The Bolsheviks put an end to that and turned out to be just as zealous in persecuting religious minorities as the tsars had ever been. Religious minorities fled where they could. RELIGION UNDER STALIN õ In 1929, five years after Lenin died and his successor Joseph Stalin took power, the government enacted the Law on Religious Associations, which set the rules for all religious worship, Orthodox or otherwise. õ To form a religious organization, a group of at least 20 adults had to come together and seek permission from the local magistrate to perform their “cult” in an approved building, and only in that space. No religious festivals, evangelizing, religious education, charity work, or anything else outside the registered building was allowed. 248 The History of Christianity II õ Meanwhile, the Soviet government tried to lure believers away from traditional churches by establishing a rival organization called the Living Church. Clergy of this temple of propaganda preached that the Bolshevik program was essentially the fulfillment of Christianity. The message appealed to some Christian socialists, but the Living Church was so obviously an arm of the state that it failed to win many sincere believers. Lecture 25—The Church and the Russian Revolution 249

• From Stone Butch Blues (1993)

  seen it before. The cafeteria was absolutely, right down the middle, segregated. “Get the picture, honey? Where you been?” “Can I sit with you anyway?” Karla tilted her head back and narrowed her eyes at me. “It’s a free country,” she said as she turned on her heel and walked away. “Hello, white girl! You new in town?” Darnell teased as he moved over to let me sit down next to Karla. I laughed. There was no other sound in the huge room. You could’ve heard a pin drop. My stomach tightened, and the food on my plate looked more disgusting than usual. “Karla,” I sat down next to her. “I really need to talk to you, really bad.” “Uh-oh,” someone whispered at our table. Mrs. Benson was racing toward our table. “Young lady, what are you doing?” I took a deep breath. “Pm eating lunch, Mrs. Benson.” Everyone at the table tried to stifle giggles, but when milk sprayed out of Darnell’s nose, well, it just couldn’t be controlled. “Come with me, young lady,’ Mrs. Benson told me. “Why?” I wanted to know. “I didn’t do anything,” She stormed away. “That was easy,” Darnell said. “Too easy,” Karla answered. “Karla, I really need to talk to you,” I told her. “Uh-oh,” Darryl said, “here comes Jim Crow.” Actually, his name was Moriarty. The coach was headed right for me. I was waiting for him to say something to me, but he didn’t. He grabbed me by the arms, digging his fingers into my flesh. Moriarty half dragged me to the door of the cafeteria. “You little slut,’ he whispered. “Tl take care of this, Coach.” Miss Moore, the assistant principal, intervened. She put her arm around me and led me out into the hall. “Child,’ she said, “you are in a whole lot of trouble. What the hell were you doing?” “Nothing, Miss Moote. I didn’t do anything. I was just trying to talk to Karla.” She smiled at me. “Sometimes you don’t have to do anything wrong to be in hot water.” All of my panic and fear welled up in my eyes. I wanted so badly to open up to Miss Moore. “Honey, it’s not all that bad,” she reassured me. I couldn’t speak. “Are you OK, Jess? Are you in trouble?” She looked at my swollen lip; no one else had noticed. “Do you want to talk, Jess?” I did want to talk. But my mouth wouldn’t move. “Here’s the other troublemaker,’ Moriarty said. He had Karla in his grip. Miss Moore pulled Karla close to her. “Tl take cate of this, Coach. You go back to being lunch monitor.” He looked at her with open hatred. I could see what a racist he was. “C’mon girls.” Miss Moore put her arm around each of us. “T’ll explain to the principal that you didn’t mean any harm.”

• From The Laws of Human Nature (2018)

  in this way, if you experience it several times, it is probably an indication of something more intense stirring within them. Backbiting: If people like to gossip a lot, particularly about common acquaintances, you can be sure they will gossip about you. And gossip is a frequent cover for envy, a convenient way to vent it by sharing malicious rumors and stories. When they talk about others behind their backs, you will see their eyes light up and their voice become animated—it gives them a joy comparable to schadenfreude. They will elicit any kind of negative report about a common acquaintance. A frequent theme in their gossip is that no one’s really that great, and people aren’t what they pretend to be. If you ever get wind of a story they have spread about you, subtly or not so subtly negative, only one such instance should be enough to raise your antennae. What indicates active envy in this case is that they are your friend and they feel the need to vent their underlying hostility to a third party rather than keep it to themselves. If you notice that friends or colleagues are suddenly cooler to you than before for no apparent reason, such gossiping might be the source and would be worth ferreting out. In any event, serial gossipers do not make loyal and trustworthy friends. The push and pull: As we saw in the Jane Williams story, enviers often use friendship and intimacy as the best way to wound the people they envy. They display unusual eagerness to become your friend. They saturate you with attention. If you are in any way insecure, this will have great effect. They praise you a little too effusively too early on. Through the closeness they establish they are able to gather material on you and find your weak points. Suddenly, after your emotions are engaged, they criticize you in pointed ways. The criticism is confusing, not particularly related to anything you have done, but still you feel guilty. They then return to their initial warmth. The pattern repeats. You are trapped between the warm friendship and the occasional pain they inflict. In criticizing you, they are experts at picking out any possible flaws in your character or words you might have regretted, and giving them great emphasis. They are like lawyers building a case against you. When you’ve had enough and decide to defend yourself or criticize them or break off the friendship, they can now ascribe to you a mean or even cruel streak and tell others of this. You will notice in their past other intense relationships with dramatic breakups, always the other person’s fault. And at the source of this pattern, something hard to discern, is that they choose to befriend people whom they envy for some quality, then subtly torture them. In general, criticism of you that seems sincere but not directly related to anything you have actually done is usually a strong sign of