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.

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

  Accordingly, as to the matter in question, the object of fear is something reckoned as an evil to come, near at hand and difficult to avoid. Therefore that which can inflict such an evil, is the efficient cause of the object of fear, and, consequently, of fear itself. While that which renders a man so disposed that thing is such an evil to him, is a cause of fear and of its object, by way of material disposition. And thus it is that love causes fear: since it is through his loving a certain good, that whatever deprives a man of that good is an evil to him, and that consequently he fears it as an evil. Reply to Objection 1: As stated above ([1393]Q[42], A[1]), fear, of itself and in the first place, regards the evil from which it recoils as being contrary to some loved good: and thus fear, of itself, is born of love. But, in the second place, it regards the cause from which that evil ensues: so that sometimes, accidentally, fear gives rise to love; in so far as, for instance, through fear of God’s punishments, man keeps His commandments, and thus begins to hope, while hope leads to love, as stated above ([1394]Q[40] , A[7]). Reply to Objection 2: He, from whom evil is expected, is indeed hated at first; but afterwards, when once we begin to hope for good from him, we begin to love him. But the good, the contrary evil of which is feared, was loved from the beginning. Reply to Objection 3: This argument is true of that which is the efficient cause of the evil to be feared: whereas love causes fear by way of material disposition, as stated above. Whether defect is the cause of fear?Objection 1: It would seem that defect is not a cause of fear. Because those who are in power are very much feared. But defect is contrary to power. Therefore defect is not a cause of fear. Objection 2: Further, the defect of those who are already being executed is extreme. But such like do not fear as stated in Rhet. ii, 5. Therefore defect is not a cause of fear. Objection 3: Further, contests arise from strength not from defect. But “those who contend fear those who contend with them” (Rhet. ii, 5). Therefore defect is not a cause of fear. On the contrary, Contraries ensue from contrary causes. But “wealth, strength, a multitude of friends, and power drive fear away” (Rhet. ii, 5). Therefore fear is caused by lack of these.

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

  Objection 4: Further, what remains after the change has taken place seems to be the subject of change. If therefore the accidents of the bread remain after the change has been effected, it seems that the accidents are the subject of the change. But this is impossible; for “an accident cannot have an accident” (Metaph. iii). Therefore the accidents of the bread and wine ought not to remain in this sacrament. On the contrary, Augustine says in his book on the Sentences of Prosper (Lanfranc, De Corp. et Sang. Dom. xiii): “Under the species which we behold, of bread and wine, we honor invisible things, i.e. flesh and blood.” I answer that, It is evident to sense that all the accidents of the bread and wine remain after the consecration. And this is reasonably done by Divine providence. First of all, because it is not customary, but horrible, for men to eat human flesh, and to drink blood. And therefore Christ’s flesh and blood are set before us to be partaken of under the species of those things which are the more commonly used by men, namely, bread and wine. Secondly, lest this sacrament might be derided by unbelievers, if we were to eat our Lord under His own species. Thirdly, that while we receive our Lord’s body and blood invisibly, this may redound to the merit of faith. Reply to Objection 1: As is said in the book De Causis, an effect depends more on the first cause than on the second. And therefore by God’s power, which is the first cause of all things, it is possible for that which follows to remain, while that which is first is taken away. Reply to Objection 2: There is no deception in this sacrament; for the accidents which are discerned by the senses are truly present. But the intellect, whose proper object is substance as is said in De Anima iii, is preserved by faith from deception. And this serves as answer to the third argument; because faith is not contrary to the senses, but concerns things to which sense does not reach. Reply to Objection 4: This change has not properly a subject, as was stated above (A[4], ad 1); nevertheless the accidents which remain have some resemblance of a subject. Whether the substantial form of the bread remains in this sacrament after the consecration?Objection 1: It seems that the substantial form of the bread remains in this sacrament after the consecration. For it has been said [4537](A[5]) that the accidents remain after the consecration. But since bread is an artificial thing, its form is an accident. Therefore it remains after the consecration.

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

  TITUS BOSTRENSIS. (non occ.) It seems indeed to me that this was a wise man. For he said not to the Saviour, “Do this or that,” but, Look on my son, for this suffices for His salvation; as the prophet said, Look on me, and have mercy on me; and he says, on my son, to shew that his was a reasonable forwardness in crying out aloud among the multitude. He adds, for he is mine only child. As if to say, There is none other I can expect to be the consolation of my old age. He next enters into the sufferings, that he may move his Hearer to compassion, saying, And, lo, the spirit taketh him. He then seems to accuse the disciples, but his answer is rather a justification of his casting aside his fear, saying, And I besought thy disciples to cast him out: and they could not. As if he said, Think not that I have come lightly unto Thee. Marvellous is Thy greatness! I did not intrude upon Thy presence at once, but went first to Thy disciples. Because they failed to work the cure, I am now compelled to approach Thee. Our Lord therefore does not blame him, but the faithless generation; for it follows, And Jesus answering said, O faithless and perverse generation. CHRYSOSTOM. (Hom. 57. in Matt.) But that this man was much weakened in faith, the writings of the Gospel shew us in several places. In that place where he says, Help thou my unbelief; (Mark 9:21, 23.) and, If thou canst. And in that where Christ said, All things are possible to him that believeth, &c. CHRYSOSTOM. (ubi sup.) Hence it seems to me more correct to account the father of the demoniac unbelieving, because he also casts reproach upon the holy Apostles, saying that they could not subdue the evil spirits. But it were better to have sought favour from God by honouring Him, for He has respect to them that fear Him. But he who says that those are weak with respect to their power over evil spirits, who have obtained that power from Christ, calumniates rather the grace than those who are adorned with that grace in whom Christ works. Christ is therefore offended with the accusation of the saints, to whom was entrusted the word of holy preaching. Wherefore the Lord rebukes him and those like-minded with him, saying, O faithless and perverse generation. As if He said, Because of your unbelief the grace has not received its accomplishment. CHRYSOSTOM. (Hom. 57. in Matt.) Now He does not direct His words to him alone, but to all the Jews, lest He should cause him to doubt. For it must have been that many were offended. THEOPHYLACT. By the word perverse, He shews that this wickedness in them was not originally or by nature, for by nature indeed they were upright, being the seed of Abraham, but became perverted through malice.

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

  DIONYSIUS OF ALEXANDRIA. (Dion. de Martyr. c. 7.) Or when He says, Let this cup pass from me, it is not, let it not come to Me, for unless it had come it could not pass away. It was therefore when He perceived it already present that He began to be afflicted and sorrowful, and as it was close at hand, He says, Let this cup pass; for as that which has passed can neither be said not to have come nor yet to remain, so also the Saviour asks first that the temptation slightly assailing Him may pass away. And this is the not entering into temptation which He counsels to pray for. But the most perfect way of avoiding temptation is manifested, when he says, Nevertheless, not my will, but thine be done. For God is not a tempter to evil, but lie wishes to grant us good things above what we either desire or understand. Therefore He seeks that the perfect will of His Father which He Himself had known, should dispose of the event, which is the same will as His own, as respects the Divine nature. But He shrinks to fulfil the human will, which He calls His own, and which is inferior to His Father’s will. ATHANASIUS. (de Incarn. et cont. Ar.) For here He manifests a double will. One indeed human, which is of the flesh, the other divine. For our human nature, because of the weakness of the flesh, refuses the Passion, but His divine will eagerly embraced it, for that it was not possible that He should be holden of death. GREGORY OF NYSSA. (non occ.) Now Apollinaris asserts that Christ had not His own will according to His earthly nature, but that in Christ exists only the will of God who descends from heaven. Let him then say what will is it which God would have by no means to be fulfilled? And the Divine nature does not remove His own will. BEDE. When He drew near His Passion, the Saviour also took upon Him the words of weak man; as when something threatens us which we do not wish to come to pass, we then through weakness seek that it may not be, to the end that we also may be prepared by fortitude to find the will of our Creator contrary to our own will. 22:43–4643. And there appeared an angel unto him from heaven, strengthening him. 44. And being in an agony he prayed more earnestly: and his sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down to the ground. 45. And when he rose up from prayer, and was come to his disciples, he found them sleeping for sorrow. 46. And said unto them, Why sleep ye? rise and pray, lest ye enter into temptation. THEOPHYLACT. To make known unto us the power of prayer that we may exercise it in adversity, our Lord when praying is comforted by an Angel. (Matt. 4:11.)

• From Stone Butch Blues (1993)

  They let me sleep over weekends on their soft old couch. Jacqueline cooked eggs at 4:00 A.M. while Al taught me. It was always the same lesson: toughen up. Al never said exactly what was coming, It was never spelled out. But I got the feeling it was awful. I knew she was worried about my surviving it. I wondered if I was ready. Al’s message was: Youre not! That was not encouraging, But I knew it was the urgency Al felt to prepare me for such a difficult life that gave her lessons a sharp edge. She never meant to cut me. She nurtured my butch strength the best way she knew how. And, she reminded me frequently, no one had ever done that when she was a baby butch, and she had survived. That was strangely reassuring, I had Butch Al for a mentor. Aland Jackie groomed me. Literally. Jacqueline gave me haircuts in their kitchen. They took me to get my first sports coat and tie at the secondhand stores. Al combed the racks, pulling out sports coats, one after another. I tried on each one. Jackie would tilt her head, then shake it. Finally, Jackie smoothed my lapels and nodded in approval. Al gave a low whistle of appreciation. I had died and gone to butch heaven! Then came the tie. Al picked it out for me. A narrow black silk tie. “You can’t go wrong with a black tie,’ she informed me solemnly. And, of course, she was right. It was fun alright. But the issue of sex was pressing on me from within and without, and Al knew it. One night at the kitchen table Al pulled out Stone Butch Blues 27 a catdboard box and handed it over to me to open. Inside was a rubber dildo. I was shocked. “You know what that is?” she asked me. “Sure,” I said. “You know what to do with it?” “Sure,” I lied. Jacqueline rattled the dishes. “Al, for Christsakes. Give the kid a break, will your” “A butch has gotta know these things,” Al insisted. Jackie threw down her dishtowel and left the kitchen in exasperation. This was to be our butch “father to son” talk. Al talked, I listened. “Do you understand?” she pressed. “Sure,” I said, “sure.” Al was satisfied she had imparted enough information by the time Jackie returned to the kitchen. “One mote thing, kid,” Al added, “don’t be like those bulldaggers who put this on and strut their stuff. Use a little decorum, you know what I mean?” “Sure,” I said. I didn’t. Al left the room to take a shower before bed. Jacqueline dried the dishes long enough that the blush drained from my face and my temples stopped pounding. She sat down on a kitchen chair next to 28 Leslie Feinberg me. “Did you understand what Al was telling you, honey?” “Sure,” I said, and vowed to never say that again. “Is there anything you don’t understand?”

• From Stone Butch Blues (1993)

  Ed put on her jacket. “Hey, Ed,” I told her. “We gotta talk, man. If you don’t talk you’ll explode. And I really got to talk to you. I’m scared, Ed.” Ed chewed her lower lip and stared at the floor. “Remember that book I gave you?” I hoped she wouldn’t quiz me on it. I'd appreciated the gift, but I hadn’t read it. “Yeah. The book by Du Bois?” Ed nodded. “‘There’s this paragraph I marked for you. I carry it in my wallet. Read it. That’s how I feel. I couldn’t say it any better.” I stood so close to her I could smell the delicate scent of her skin and her hair. “Ed,” I whispered. “I don’t want to lose you. You’re my friend. I love you so much.” Ed firmly pushed me away. “I gotta go,” she said. “Pll call you.” “Ed, um, what about the name of that doctor?” Ed sighed and jotted his name and address on a bar napkin. “Good luck,” she said. I punched her shoulder lightly. “Thanks. I need it.” It wasn’t right, how long I had stayed out. I came home tanked up, not expecting Theresa to be waiting for me. She sat so quietly on the couch in the dark I nearly went through the roof when she spoke. “Where have you been?” Something in her voice frightened me. I sat on the couch near her. I wanted to touch her but I began to realize how angry she was with me. After a while she reached out and brought my full weight against her. She was more upset than mad. “I’m sorry, baby, really,’ I told her. “I was only thinking about myself and I’m sorry.” She nodded. “Where have you been?” I didn’t answer for a long time. I was drunk and confused. “I know where I’ve been, I just don’t know where I’m going,” It was all I could think to say. She looked at my face, trying to read all my thoughts and feelings. I don’t know if she found what she was looking for, but afterward she stroked my head. “You remember I told you about Butch Al and Jacqueline?” She winced. “Theresa, I’m beginning to feel like ’'m going under, too.” Stone Butch Blues 197 Theresa looked at me. She seemed calm and worried at the same time. “Jan and Grant and Ed and I talked most of the night,” I explained. “Seems like it,’ Theresa smiled. “What'd you talk about?” “Honey, I can’t survive as a he-she much longer. I can’t keep taking the system head-on this way. ’m not gonna make it.” Theresa held me tighter. She didn’t say a word. “We were talking about maybe starting on hormones, male hormones. I was thinking I might try to pass as a guy.”

• From The Laws of Human Nature (2018)

  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. Be extra wary of sudden success and attention—they are not built on anything that lasts and they have an addictive pull. And the fall is always painful. Rising Pressure The people around you generally appear sane and in control of their lives. But put any of them in stressful circumstances, with the pressure rising, and you will see a different reality. The cool mask of self-control comes off. They suddenly lash out in anger, reveal a paranoid streak, and become hypersensitive and often petty. Under stress or any threat, the most primitive parts of the brain are aroused and engaged, overwhelming people’s reasoning powers. In fact, stress or tension can reveal flaws in people that they have carefully concealed from view. It is often wise to observe people in such moments, precisely as a way to judge their true character. Whenever you notice rising pressure and stress levels in your life, you must watch yourself carefully. Monitor any signs of unusual brittleness or sensitivity, sudden suspicions, fears disproportionate to the circumstances. Observe with as much detachment as possible, finding time and space to be alone. You need perspective. Never imagine that you are someone who can withstand rising stress without emotional leakage. It is not possible. But through self- awareness and reflection you can prevent yourself from making decisions you will come to regret.

• From The Laws of Human Nature (2018)

  He thought of escaping with his family but hesitated. Soon it was too late, as the mob arrived. On the morning of October 6, a group of citizens penetrated into the palace, killing everyone in their path. They demanded that Louis and his family be escorted back to Paris, so that the French citizens could keep an eye on him and ensure his loyalty to the new order. Louis had no choice: he and his traumatized family piled into a single carriage. As they made their way to Paris, surrounded by the crowd, Louis could see the heads of the king’s personal guard paraded on long pikes. What shocked him even more was the sight of so many men and women surrounding the carriage, dressed in rags, thinned by hunger, pressing their faces to the window and swearing at him and the queen in the vilest language. He could not recognize his own subjects. These were not the French people he had known. They must be outside agitators, brought in by enemies to destroy the monarchy. Somehow the world had gone mad. In Paris the king, his family, and the few courtiers who had remained with them were housed in the Tuileries, a royal residence that had been uninhabited for over a hundred years. Within a week of his arrival in Paris, the king received a visit from a strange man whose face and manner frightened him. It was Georges-Jacques Danton, now one of the leaders of the French Revolution. On behalf of the French people, he had come to welcome the king to Paris. He explained that he had been a member of the King’s Council, and he reassured the king that the people were grateful for his submission to their will and that there was still an important part for him to play as a monarch who swore allegiance to a new constitution. Louis could barely listen. He was transfixed by the man’s enormous head, by the strange outfit he wore (black satin breeches over white silk stockings, and buckled shoes, a mix of fashion styles Louis had never seen before), and by his whole manner, his fast way of talking, the lack of awe and respect in the king’s presence. He bowed graciously before the king, but he refused to kiss his hand, quite a breach of protocol. So this was a revolutionary, a man of the people?

• From The Laws of Human Nature (2018)

  could have offered her love and support for his new life while gently declining to follow him all the way. Such use of empathy has the opposite effect of mutual narcissism. Coming from one side, it tends to soften the other one up and invite his or her empathy as well. It is hard to stay in one’s defensive position when the other person is seeing and expressing your side and entering your spirit. It beckons you to do the same. Secretly people yearn to let go of their resistance. It is exhausting to continually be so defensive and suspicious. The key to employing empathy within a relationship is to understand the value system of the other person, which inevitably is different from yours. What they interpret as signs of love or attention or generosity tends to diverge from your way of thinking. These value systems are largely formed in early childhood and are not consciously created by people. Keeping in mind their value system will allow you to enter their spirit and perspective precisely in the moment you would normally turn defensive. Even deep narcissists can be pulled out of their shell in this way, because such attention is so rare. Measure all of your relationships on the narcissism spectrum. It is not one person or the other but the dynamic itself that must be altered. 4. The Healthy Narcissist—the Mood Reader. In October of 1915, the great English explorer Sir Ernest Henry Shackleton (1874–1922) ordered the abandonment of the ship Endurance , which had been trapped in an ice floe in Antarctica for over eight months and was beginning to take on water. For Shackleton this meant he essentially had to give up on his great dream of leading his men on the first land crossing of the Antarctic continent. This was to have been the culmination of his illustrious career as an explorer, but now a much greater responsibility weighed on his mind—to somehow get the twenty-seven men of his crew safely back home. Their lives would depend on his daily decisions. To realize this goal, he faced many obstacles: the harsh winter weather about to hit them, the drifting currents that could pull the ice floe they were to camp on in any direction, the coming days without any light, the dwindling food supplies, the lack of any radio contact or ship to transport them. But the greatest danger of all, the one that filled him with the most dread, was the morale of the men. All it would take was a few malcontents to spread resentment and negativity; soon the men would not work as hard; they would tune him out and lose faith in his leadership. Once that happened, it could be every man for himself, and in this climate that could easily spell disaster and death. He would have to monitor their group spirit even more closely than the changing weather.

• From On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous (2019)

  As the engine steamed, we felt our ribs for broken bones, then bolted out of the gasoline-reeked pickup, crossed the rest of the cornfield behind Trevor’s house, past the wheelless John Deere tractor suspended on cinder blocks, the empty chicken coop with latches rusted shut, over the small plastic white fence invisible under a choke of brambles, then through crabgrass and under the highway overpass, toward the pines. Dry leaves crashing past us. Trevor’s old man running toward the wrecked truck, the only car they owned, neither of us with the guts to look back. How do I tell you about Trevor without telling you, again, of those pines? How it was an hour after the Chevy that we lay there, the cold seeping up from the forest floor. How we sang “This Little Light of Mine” until the blood on our faces grabbed around our lips and stiffened us quiet. — The first time we fucked, we didn’t fuck at all. I only have the nerve to tell you what comes after because the chance this letter finds you is slim—the very impossibility of your reading this is all that makes my telling it possible. In Trevor’s mobile home, there was a painting of a bowl of peaches in the hallway that always caught me. The hallway was too narrow and you could only see it from inches away, more aftermath than art. I had to stand a little to the side to see it in full. Each time I walked by I slowed down, taking it in. A cheap painting from Family Dollar, mass-produced with vague indications of impressionism. When I examined the brushstrokes, I saw that they were not painted on at all, but printed on with speckled relief, suggesting a hand without enacting the real. The relief “strokes” never cohered with their shades, so that a stroke would hold two, even three colors at once. A fake. A fraud. Which was why I loved it. The materials never suggested authenticity, but rather, an inconspicuous sameness, a desire to pass as art only under the most cursory glance. It hung on the wall, hidden in the gloomy hallway that led to Trevor’s room. I never asked who put it there. Peaches. Pink peaches. Under the humid sheets, he pressed his cock between my legs. I spat in my hand and reached back, grabbed tight his heated length, mimicking the real thing, as he pushed. I glanced back and caught the thrilled mischief in his eyes. Although this was a mock attempt, a penis in a fist in place of the inner self, for a moment it was real. It was real because we didn’t have to look—as if we fucked and unfucked at a distance from our bodies, yet still inside the sensation, like a memory.

• From On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous (2019)

  A woman, not yet thirty, clutches her daughter on the shoulder of a dirt road in a beautiful country where two men, M-16s in their hands, step up to her. She is at a checkpoint, a gate made of concertina and weaponized permission. Behind her, the fields have begun to catch. A braid of smoke through a page-blank sky. One man has black hair, the other a yellow mustache like a scar of sunlight. Stench of gasoline coming off their fatigues. The rifles sway as they walk up to her, their metal bolts winking in afternoon sun. A woman, a girl, a gun. This is an old story, one anyone can tell. A trope in a movie you can walk away from if it weren’t already here, already written down. It has started to rain; the dirt around the woman’s bare feet is flecked with red-brown quotation marks—her body a thing spoken with. Her white shirt clings against her bony shoulders as she sweats. The grass all around her is flattened, as if god had pressed his hand there, reserving a space for an eighth day. It’s a beautiful country, she’s been told, depending on who you are. — It’s not a god—of course not—but a helicopter, a Huey, another lord whose wind’s so heavy that, a few feet away, a lint-grey warbler thrashes in the high grass, unable to correct herself. The girl’s eye fills with the chopper in the sky, her face a dropped peach. Her blue shawl finally made visible with black ink, like this. Somewhere, deep inside this beautiful country, in the back of a garage lit with a row of fluorescent lights, as legend has it, five men have gathered around a table. Beneath their sandaled feet, pools of motor oil reflect nothing. On one end of the table a cluster of glass bottles. The vodka inside them shimmers in the harsh light as the men talk, their elbows shifting impatiently. They fall silent each time one of them glances toward the door. It should open anytime now. The light flickers once, stays on. The vodka poured into shot glasses, some ringed with rust from being stored in a metal bullet case from the previous war. The heavy glasses thunk on the table, the burn swallowed into a darkness invented by thirst.

• From Stone Butch Blues (1993)

  All I could think of was Ruth’s arms. But by the time I got to her door I hesitated. Even though I could hear her in her apartment, I didn’t knock. I quietly took out my own house keys. They were 284 = Leslie Feinberg clotted with blood. I calmed my breathing, fearing I'd choke to death if I vomited. A moment after I’d closed my door I heard a knock. I knew it must be Ruth. I held still and didn’t move until she walked away and closed her door. Why? Why was I suddenly so afraid to see her? Because I feared bringing so much need to her? What if I asked for too much? What if she turned away from me? What if I lost her? I wanted to go to her, though. I wanted to kneel in front of her and ask her to hide me, to keep me safe. And I wanted her love to protect me from harm’s way. More than anything I just wanted to be held. But I was so afraid to ask. My head hurt and hurt and hurt. I couldn’t open my jaws. Panic burned like acid in my throat. I felt claustrophobic, trapped inside my head. My skull throbbed, and the room tilted like the fun house at Crystal Beach. For just a moment I was mote terrified not to ask for what I needed than I was to be rejected. I fumbled trying to open the lock on my door. I slammed it behind me and hurled myself against Ruth’s door, pounding it with my fist. If she didn’t answer fast ’d lose my nerve. Ruth opened her door, wearing that old- fashioned apron. She pushed her red hair out of her frightened eyes. My chin ached and trembled. I struggled to speak. She saw my gums, laced with wire. Ruth reached out one hand to me, led me into her kitchen, sat me down. I tried to repeat two words over and over again but she couldn’t understand me. She brought me a pad and pencil. I couldn’t hold the pencil in my swollen right hand. She pulled an old baking sheet from the dish drain and opened a can of Crisco, then smoothed a thick layer of lard over the aluminum and set it on the table in front of me. With my left index finger I wrote the two words I’d been repeating: Help me? Ruth knelt in front of me and buried her face in my lap. She cried so bitterly I tried to comfort her, stroking her hair and smoothing the floral material covering her wide shoulders. “This is why I didn’t want to let you in my life,” she sobbed. “Because I knew Id have to look. When it’s me I don’t have to see it. But when I care about you I have to look. I see it and I don’t want to.”

• From Stone Butch Blues (1993)

  I felt woozy with fear. It reminded me of when my parents had me committed, or the cops opened my cell door. So many people in the world had so much power to control and hurt me. I shrugged as though it wasn’t important to me. “Look, Duffy, it’s overt. Besides, the contract’s up in two months. We got other things to worry about.” Duffy looked at me like I was crazy, but when he spoke his voice was calm. “No, Jess. We’re going to worry a lot about this. We’re going to prove what Jack did to you and we’re going to tell management either he’s out or we all walk out.” I marveled at the idea that straight people would stand up for me, or for any he-she. “You know,” Duffy added, “TI don’t think I really realized how hard it is for you. I know what jerks the guys at work can be sometimes.” He leaned up against the sink and folded his arms. “But when I went to the hospital with you, I saw how they treated you, how they talked about you,” he rubbed his face. When he looked back up at me, I saw tears in his eyes. “T felt so helpless, you know? I kept yelling at them that you were a human being, that you mattered, and it was like they weren’t even listening to me. I couldn’t do anything to help you and I couldn’t make them take cate of you the way I wanted, you know.” I nodded. I did know. And now I knew that Duffy did too. Jan drove me to Abba’s on Friday night. Everyone cheered when I walked in. They hung a sign on the wall in the backroom that read: Get Well, Jess! Frankie and Grant and Johnny told me Duffy organized a union investigation of the “accident.” I was watching Jan. She looked so sad. “Where’s Ednar” I whispered to Grant. Grant drew an index finger across her throat. I waited till I saw Jan sitting alone in the back. I brought over two beers. “Can I sit with you?” She gestured towards an empty chair. Stone Butch Blues 99 “You're my friend, Jan,” I told her, “and I love you.” She looked surprised when I said that. “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s OK with me. But I can’t pretend I don’t know you're hurting.” Jan leaned forward and rested her elbows on the table. “TI lost her. I love her and I lost her. What else is there to say?” I shrugged. “I know you both loved each other a lot.” Jan took a swig of her beer. “Sometimes love just isn’t enough,” she said. I hoped she was wrong, She sighed. “The worst part is, it’s my fault. I knew she was going to leave me and I just couldn’t change fast enough to stop her. Who knows, maybe I’m just too old to change at all.”

• From Heptaméron (1559)

  Though the butcher talked of his pigs, which he called Cordeliers, the two poor friars, hearing this, set it all down to their own account, and awaited daylight with great terror. One of them was very fat, the other very lean ; and the fat one set about confessing himself to his companion, alleging that a butcher, having lost the love and fear of God, would make no more of slaughtering them than an o.x or any other beast. As they were shut up in their chamber, from which there was no issue but through their host's, they gave them- selves up for dead men, and earnestly commended their souls to God. The young man, who was not so over- come by fear as the elder, said to him, that since they FoHrth day:\ Q VEEN OF NA VA RRS. 3 1 1 could not get out at the door, they must try to escape through the window ; at the worst they could only be killed in the attempt, and death one way or the other was the same thing in the end. The fat friar consented to the expedient. The young one opened the window, and, as it was not very high, dropped lightly to the ground, and ran away as fast and as far as he could, without waiting for his companion, who was not so lucky, for, being very bulky, he fell so heavily that he hurt one leg severely, and was unable to rise from the ground. Deserted by his companion and unable to fol- low him, he looked about for some place where he might hide, and saw nothing but a pigsty, into which he dragged himself the best way he could. When he opened the door, two big porkers which were inside rushed out, and left the place free to the Cordelier, who shut himself in, hoping that he might hear people pass- ing by, to whom he would call and obtain help. As soon as daylight appeared, the butcher got ready his big knives, and told his wife to come and help him to kill the two pigs. Going to the sty, he opened the little door, and cried out, " Come, turn out here, my Cordelier. I'll have your chitterlings for my dinner to-day." The Cordelier, who could not stand on his leg, crawled out on his hands and knees, roaring for mercy. If he was in a great fright, the butcher and his wife were no less so. The first idea that came into their heads was that St. Francis was angry with them because they had called pigs Cordeliers, and under that notion they fell on their knees before the poor friar, begging pardon of St. Fran- cis and his order. On the one side was the Cordelier bawling for mercy to the butcher, on the other side the butcher making the same appeal to the Cordelier. At last the Cordelier, finding that the butcher had no inten-

• 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 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.