Grief

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 Buddenbrooks: The Decline of a Family (1901)

  They were so silent that the director gradually fell silent too; and while over there in the hall time passed quickly for little Hanno, as if in heaven, there was a heavy, uneasy, anxious stillness in the landscape room, which still prevailed when, at half past eight, Christian returned from the club, from the Christmas party for the bachelors and suitiers. A cold cigar butt stuck between his lips and his gaunt cheeks were flushed. He came through the hall and said as he entered the landscape room: "Children, the hall is wonderful! Weinschenk, we should have brought Breslauer with us today; I'm sure he's never seen anything like it." A quiet, punishing sidelong glance met him from the Consul's eyes. He answered it with an impartial and uncomprehending questioning face. - At nine o'clock we went to table. As every year on this evening, the table was set in the columned hall. The consul spoke the traditional grace with a heartfelt expression: “Come, Lord Jesus, be our guest And bless what you have given us.« whereupon, as is also customary on this evening, she ended with a small admonishing speech, which mainly called for commemoration of all those who did not have it as good on this Christmas Eve as the Buddenbrook family ... And when this was done, one sat settle down with a clear conscience to a sustainable meal, which soon began with carp in melted butter and old Rhine wine. The senator slipped a few scales of the fish into his purse so that the money would not run out throughout the year; Christian, however, remarked gloomily that that was of no use, and Consul Kröger dispensed with such precautionary measures, since he no longer had to fear any fluctuations in the exchange rate and had long since been in port with his one and a half shillings. The old gentleman sat as far away as possible from his wife, with whom he had hardly spoken a word for years because she would not stop. to secretly give money to the disinherited Jakob, who in London, Paris or America - only she knew for sure - led his uprooted life of adventure. He scowled as, at the second course, the conversation turned to the absent family members and as he watched the frail mother wipe her eyes. The ones in Frankfurt and Hamburg were mentioned, Pastor Tiburtius in Riga was thought of without ill will, and the senator quietly toasted the health of Messrs. Grünlich and Permaneder with his sister Tony, who in a certain sense also belonged to it ... The turkey stuffed with a porridge of chestnuts, raisins and apples received universal praise. Comparisons were made with those of previous years, and it was found that this was the largest for a long time.

• From Heptaméron (1559)

  world. Having kissed her liusband she bade him fare- well, and then the holy sacrament of the altar was brousfht her after extreme unction, which she received with joy, and an entire assurance of her salvation. Finding at last that her sight was leaving her, and that her strength was failing, she began to repeat aloud her In maims, hearing which, M. D'Avannes sat up in the bed, and saw her render up with a gentle sigh her glorious soul to Him from whom it came. When he saw that she was dead, he threw himself upon the body, which he had never approached without trembling while she lived, and embraced it so that it was with difficulty he was forced away from it. The husband, who had never supposed he loved her so much, was surprised, and said, " It is too much, my lord." And thereupon they withdrew. After they had long deplored, the one his wife, the other his mistress, M. D'Avannes recounted his love to the husband, and told him that until her death the de- ceased had never shown him any other signs than those of rigid reserve. This increased the husband's admi- ration for his departed wife, and still more his grief for her loss, and all his life afterwards he rendered service to M. D'Avannes. The latter, who was then but eighteen, returned to the court, and it was a long time before he would speak to any of the ladies there, or even see them ; and for more than two years he wore mourning. You see, ladies, what a difference there is between a chaste woman and a wanton. Their love, too, produced very different effects ; for the one died a glorious death, and the other lived but too long after the loss of her reputation and her honour. As much as the death of 2 70 THE HEPTAMEROX OF THE {Navel 2b. the saint is precious before God, so is that of the sinner the reverse. ''Truly, Saffredent," said Oisille, "anything finer than the story you have just narrated one could not wish to hear; and if the rest of the company knew the per- sons as I do, they would think it still finer, for I never saw a handsomer gentleman, or one of better deport- ment, than M. D'Avannes." " Must it not be owned," replied Saffredent, " that this was a chaste and good woman, since, in order to ap- pear more virtuous than she was in reality, and to hide the love which reason and nature willed that she should have for so perfect a gentleman, she let herself die for want of giving herself the pleasure she desired without owning it." "If she had felt that desire," said Parlamente, "she would not have lacked either place or opportunity to re- veal it ; but she had so much virtue that reason always controlled her desire."

• From Heptaméron (1559)

  daughter she had chosen for her the match she thought would be most advantageous ; and Florida submitted, seeing no room was left her for deliberation, the business being already settled. To make matters worse, she heard that the Fortunate Infante was at the point of death. She never suffered the least evidence of her mortification to escape in presence of her mother or anyone else ; and so strongly did she conceal her feelings, that instead of shedding tears she was seized with a bleeding at the nose so copious as to endanger her life. By way of re- establishing her health, she married the man she would wiU'Tigly have exchanged for death. After her marriage she went with her husband to the duchy of Cardona, and took with her Aventurada, whom she acquainted, in confidence, with her mother's harshness towards her, and her regret for the loss of the Fortunate Infante ; but with regard to Amadour, she spoke of him only to con- sole his wife. Resolutely setting God and honour before her eves, she so well concealed her sorrow that none of those who were most intimate with her ever perceived that she disliked her husband. For a long time did she continue this life, which was hardly better than death. She failed not to make all known to Amadour, who, knowing the greatness of her heart, and how she had loved the Fortunate Infante, thought it impossible she could live long, and mourned for her as one whom he looked upon as worse than dead. This affliction augmented that under which he already laboured. Gladly would he have been a slave all his life, so i lorida had found a husband after her own heart ; for the thought of his mistress's sorrows made him forget his own. Meanwhile, he learned from a friend he had made at the court of Tunis, that the king was resolved to give him his choice, either to renounce his faith or be First day.] QUEEN OF NA VARRE. 87 impaled, for he wished to keep him in his service, if he could make a good Turk of him. To prevent this, Ama- dour prevailed upon his master to let him go upon his parole without speaking to the king ; and his ransom was set so high that the Turk calculated that a man who had so little wealth could never raise the amount.

• From Buddenbrooks: The Decline of a Family (1901)

  He said that he and those present here no longer begged for the life of this beloved and dear one, for they saw that it was the Lord's holy will to take him. They begged only for the grace of a gentle salvation... And then, with effective emphasis, he said two more prayers customary in such cases and stood up. He pressed Gerda Buddenbrooks and Frau Permaneder's hand, took little Johann's head between both hands and looked at his lowered eyelashes for a minute, trembling with melancholy and intimacy, greeted Fraulein Jungmann, gave Nurse Leandra another cold look and held his exit . When Doctor Longneck returned, having gone home a little, he found everything the same. He only had a brief consultation with the nurse and recommended himself again. Doctor Grabow also called again, looked with a mild face to make sure everything was in order, and left. Thomas Buddenbrook continued to move his lips and gurgling sounds, his eyes broken to expel. Dusk fell. Outside there was a little wintry sunset, and the soiled clothes that were hanging over a chair somewhere shone softly through the window. At five o'clock Frau Permaneder allowed herself to be carried away to a thoughtlessness. Sitting across from her sister-in-law on the bed, she suddenly began, using her larynx voice very loudly and with folded hands, to chant a song... "Stop it, oh Lord," she said, and everyone listened to her motionless - "do it end of all his distress; strengthen his feet and hands and let unto death …” But she prayed so deeply from the bottom of her heart that she only ever occupied herself with the word she was uttering, and did not consider that she had not finished the verse at all know and after the third verse had to get stuck miserably. She did, breaking off in a raised voice, replacing the ending with the elevated dignity of her bearing. Everyone in the room waited, cringing with embarrassment. Little Johann cleared his throat so hard it sounded like groaning. And then in the silence there was nothing to be heard but the agonizing gurgle of Thomas Buddenbrooks. It was a relief when the following girl reported that some food had been served next door. But when they started enjoying a little soup in Gerda's bedroom, Nurse Leandra appeared in the doorway and gave a friendly wave. The senator died. He sobbed softly two or three times, fell silent, and stopped moving his lips. That was the whole change that was happening to him; his eyes had been dead before. Doctor Langhals, who was there a few minutes later, placed his black ear-trumpet on the corpse's chest, listened for a long time and, after careful examination, said: "Yes, it's over." And with the ring finger of her pale, gentle hand, Sister Leandra gently closed the dead man's eyelids.

• From Buddenbrooks: The Decline of a Family (1901)

  And Uncle Hoffstede recited a poem... It's in the portfolio... I know it by heart... Venus Anadyomene... The landscape room! The dining room! Strangers …!" 'Yes, Tony, those who had to leave the house when Grandfather bought it must have thought the same thing. They had lost their money and had to move away and died and perished. Everything has it's time. Let us rejoice and thank God that we are not as far along as we were then with Ratenkamps, and that we are leaving here under more favorable circumstances than they..." Sobs, a slow, painful sob interrupted him. Frau Permaneder's devotion to her sorrow was so great that she did not even think to dry the tears that ran down her cheeks. She sat bent over and slumped, and a warm drop fell on her hands, which rested dully in her lap, without her noticing it. "Tom," she said, finding a soft, touching firmness in her voice that was choking her tears. "You don't know how I feel at this hour, you don't know. Your sister hasn't fared well in life, she's had a bad time. Everything that could be imagined came down on me... I don't know what I did to deserve it. But I accepted everything without despair, Tom, with Grünlich and with Permaneder and with Weinschenk. Because whenever God shattered my life again, I wasn't completely lost. I knew a place, a safe harbour, so to speak, where I was at home and safe, where I could flee from life's hardships... Even now, when it was all over and when Weinschenk was being taken to prison... "Mother," I said, 'May we move in with you?' 'Yes, children, come' ... When we were little and played 'wars', Tom, there was always a 'mark', a marked spot where you could run when you were in trouble and distress was, and where one was not to be cut off, but to rest in peace. Mother's house, this house was my 'mark' in life, Tom... And now... and now... sell..." She leaned back, hid her face in the handkerchief and cried bitterly. He pulled down one of her hands and took it in his. 'I know it, dear Tony, I know it all! But don't we want to be a little reasonable now? The good mother is gone...we won't call her back. What now? It's become senseless to keep this house as dead capital... I must know, don't I. Should we turn it into a tenement?... The thought is difficult for you that strangers are here should live; but it's better if you don't look at it, but take a small, pretty house for you and your family, or a floor somewhere in front of the gate, for example... Or would you prefer to live here with a number of tenants? ... And you still have your family, Gerda and me and Buddenbrooks in the Breite Straße and Krögers and also Mademoiselle Weichbrodt ...

• From Speak, Memory (1966)

  4Of her whereabouts I learned unexpectedly a month or so after my arrival in southern Crimea. My family settled in the vicinity of Yalta, at Gaspra, near the village of Koreiz. The whole place seemed completely foreign; the smells were not Russian, the sounds were not Russian, the donkey braying every evening just as the muezzin started to chant from the village minaret (a slim blue tower silhouetted against a peach-colored sky) was positively Baghdadian. And there was I standing on a chalky bridle path near a chalky stream bed where separate, serpentlike bands of water thinly glided over oval stones—there was I, holding a letter from Tamara. I looked at the abrupt Yayla Mountains, covered up to their rocky brows with the karakul of the dark Tauric pine; at the maquis-like stretch of evergreen vegetation between mountain and sea; at the translucent pink sky, where a self-conscious crescent shone, with a single humid star near it; and the whole artificial scene struck me as something in a prettily illustrated, albeit sadly abridged, edition of The Arabian Nights. Suddenly I felt all the pangs of exile. There had been the case of Pushkin, of course—Pushkin who had wandered in banishment here, among those naturalized cypresses and laurels—but though some prompting might have come from his elegies, I do not think my exaltation was a pose. Thenceforth for several years, until the writing of a novel relieved me of that fertile emotion, the loss of my country was equated for me with the loss of my love.

• From Heptaméron (1559)

  After this the wretch went away and returned no more. The poor girl remained a long time in the con- dition prescribed by her sentence ; but her mother, who had a more tender affection for her than for her other children, was surprised at not hearing from her, and said to one of her sons that she believed her daughter was dead, and that the nuns concealed her death in order the longer to enjoy the annual payment made for her main- tenance. She begged him to inquire into the matter, and see his sister, if it were possible. The brother went at once to the convent, was answered with the usual ex- cuses, and was told that for three years his sister had not quitted her bed. The young man would net be put off with that reply, and swore that unless she were shown to him he would scale the walls and break into the convent. This threat so alarmed the nuns that they brought his sister to the grating ; but the abbess followed her so closely, that she could not speak to her brother without being heard by the good mother. But Sister Marie, having her wits about her, had taken the precaution be- forehand to write down all the facts I have related, together with the details of a thousand other stratagems which the prior had employed to seduce her, and which, for the sake of brevity, I omit. I must not, however, forget to mention that, whilst her aunt was abbess, the prior, fancying it was on ac- count of his ugliness he was repulsed, caused Sister Marie to be tempted by a young and handsome monk, hoping that, if she yielded to the latter for love, he him- self might afterwards have his will of her through fear. But the young monk having accosted her in a garden, with words and gestures so infamous that I should be ashamed to repeat them, the poor girl ran to the abbess, who was talking with the prior, and cried to her, Third day.] Q UEEN OF NA VA RRE. 225

• From The Hours (1998)

  Clarissa screams, “No—” He seems so certain, so serene, that she briefly imagines it hasn’t happened at all. She reaches the window in time to see Richard still in flight, his robe billowing, and it seems even now as if it might be a minor accident, something reparable. She sees him touch the ground five floors below, sees him kneel on the concrete, sees his head strike, hears the sound he makes, and yet she believes, at least for another moment, leaning out over the sill, that he will stand up again, groggy perhaps, winded, but still himself, still whole, still able to speak. She calls his name, once. It comes out as a question, far softer than she’d meant it to. He lies where he fell, face down, the robe thrown up over his head and his bare legs exposed, white against the dark concrete. She runs from the room, out the door, which she leaves open behind her. She runs down the stairs. She thinks of calling for help, but doesn’t. The air itself seems to have changed, to have come slightly apart; as if the atmosphere were palpably made of substance and its opposite. She runs down the stairs and is aware (she will be ashamed of this later) of herself as a woman running down a set of stairs, uninjured, still alive. In the lobby she suffers through a moment of confusion over how to get to the air shaft where Richard lies, and she feels, briefly, as if she’s gone to hell. Hell is a stale yellow box of a room, with no exit, shaded by an artificial tree, lined with scarred metal doors (one bears a Grateful Dead decal, a skull crowned with roses). A door in the shadow of the stairwell, narrower than the others, leads outside, down a flight of broken cement stairs, to the place where Richard is. She knows even before she descends these last stairs that he is dead. His head is lost among the folds of the robe but she can see the puddle of blood, dark, almost black, that has formed where his head must be. She can see the utter stillness of his body, one arm extended at a peculiar angle, palm up, and both bare legs white and naked as death itself. He is still wearing the gray felt slippers she bought for him. She descends these last stairs, sees that Richard is lying amid shards of broken glass, and takes a moment to realize it is simply the remains of a shattered beer bottle that had been lying on the concrete already, and not some consequence of Richard’s fall. She thinks she must pick him up immediately, to get him off the glass.

• From Heptaméron (1559)

  thought to make satisfaction in part for his sins after his death by giving some little present to God, as if God gave his grace for money. After giving oiders respect- ing his house, he desired that a fine Spanish horse, which constituted nearly the whole of his wealth, should be sold, and the money bestowed on the poor Mendicants ; and he chars-ed his wife to do this without fail immedi- ately after his death. The burial being over, and the first tears shed, the wife, who was no more of a simple- ton than Spanish women are in general, said to the man- servant, who, like her, had heard her husband deliver his last will, " Methinks I lose enough in losing my husband, whom I so tenderly loved, without losing also the rest of my property. I would by no means, however, contra- vene the orders he laid upon me, but would rather im- prove upon his intentions. The poor man, beguiled by the avarice of the priests, thought to make a sacrifice to God, in giving away after his death a sum, one crown of which he would not have given in his lifetime, however pressing might be the need, as you very well know ; it has occurred to me, then, that we will do what he or- dered us much better than he could have done it himself had he lived a few days longer, but no one in the world must know a word about it." The man having promised to keep the secret, she continued : " You will take the horse to the market, and when you are asked the price you will say one ducat. But I have a very good cat which I want to sell also. You will sell it along with the horse, and charge for it ninety-nine ducats, making of the two one hundred ducats, which is the price at which my husband wished to sell the horse alone." The man promptly obeyed his mistress's order. As he was walking the horse about in the market-place^ Sixth day \ QUEEN OF NAVARRE. 445 carrying the cat under his arm, a gentleman who knew the horse, and had before wished to buy it, came up and asked what he would take for it at a word. " A ducat," said the man. ' I would thank you not to make game of me," said the gentleman. " I assure you, sir," said the man, " it will cost you no more. It is true you must buy this cat at the same time, and I want ninety-nine ducats for it."

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

  JEROME. The rule of the Scriptures is only to know two generations, one of good the other of bad. Of the generation of the good it is said, The generation of the righteous shall be blessed. (Ps. 112:2.) And of the bad it is said in the present passage, Generation of vipers. These then, because they did against the Apostles like things as Cain and Joas, are described as of one generation. CHRYSOSTOM. Otherwise; Because He delayed the punishment of hell which He had threatened them with, He pronounces against them threats of present evil, saying, All these things shall come upon this generation. PSEUDO-CHRYSOSTOM. As all the good things which had been merited by all the saints in each generation since the foundation of the world were bestowed upon that last generation which received Christ; so all the evil that all the wicked in every generation from the foundation of the world had deserved to suffer, came upon that last generation of the Jews which rejected Christ. Or thus; Assail the righteous of former saints, yea, of all the saints, could not merit that so great grace as was given to men in Christ; so the sins of all the wicked could not deserve so much evil as came upon the Jews, that they should suffer such things as these suffered from the Romans, and that in after time every generation of them to the end of the world should be cast off from God, and be made a mock by all the Gentiles. For what is there worse than to reject and in such sort to put to death the Son coming in mercy and lowliness! Or thus; Nations and states when they sin are not thereupon immediately punished by God, but He waits for many generations; but when He sees fit to destroy that state or nation, He then seems to visit upon them the sins of all former generations, and one generation suffers the accumulation of all that former generations have deserved. Thus this generation of the Jews seems to have been punished for their fathers; but in truth they suffered not for others, but on their own account. CHRYSOSTOM. For he who having seen many sinning yet remains uncorrected, but rather does the same or worse, is obnoxious to heavier punishment. 23:37–3937. O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets, and stonest them which are sent unto thee, how often would I have gathered thy children together, even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not! 38. Behold, your house is left unto you desolate. 39. For I say unto you, Ye shall not see me henceforth, till ye shall say, Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord. CHRYSOSTOM. The Lord next turns to address the city, desiring to instruct His hearers thereby. O Jerusalem, Jerusalem: this repetition of the name is a mark of compassion and intense love.

• From Blue Like Jazz (2003)

  The magical proposition of the gospel, once free from the clasps of fairy tale, was very adult to me, very gritty like something from Hemingway or Steinbeck, like something with copious amounts of sex and blood. Christian spirituality was not a children’s story. It wasn’t cute or neat. It was mystical and odd and clean, and it was reaching into dirty. There was wonder in it and enchantment. Perhaps, I thought, Christian spirituality really was the difference between illusion and magic. 4 Shifts Find a Penny SOME OF THE CHRISTIANS IN PORTLAND TALK about Reed College as if it is hades. They say the students at Reed are pagans, heathens in heart. Reed was recently selected by the Princeton Review as the college where students are most likely to ignore God. It is true. It is a godless place, known for existential experimentation of all sorts. There are no rules at Reed, and many of the students there have issues with authority. Reed students, however, are also brilliant. Loren Pope, former education editor for the New York Times, calls Reed “the most intellectual college in the country.” Reed receives more awards and fellowships, per capita, than any other American college and has entertained more than thirty Rhodes scholars. For a time, my friend Ross and I got together once each week to talk about life and the Old Testament. Ross used to teach Old Testament at a local seminary. Sometimes Ross would talk about his son, Michael, who was a student at Reed. During the year Ross and I were getting together to talk about the Old Testament, I had heard Michael was not doing well. Ross told me Michael had gotten his girlfriend pregnant and the girl was not allowing him to see the child. His son was pretty heartbroken about it. During his senior year at Reed, Ross’s son died by suicide. He jumped from a cliff on the Oregon coast. After it happened, Ross was in terrible pain. The next time I got together with him, about a month after the tragedy, Ross sat across from me with blue cheeks and moist eyes. It was as if everything sorrowful in the world was pressing on his chest. To this day, I cannot imagine any greater pain than losing a child.

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

  CHRYSOSTOM. The resurrection is a new life and conversation. For when the sensual man becomes chaste, the covetous merciful, the cruel man gentle, a resurrection takes place. Sin being dead, righteousness rises again. It follows, And for a sign which shall be spoken against. BASIL. (ep. 260. ad Opt.) The sign which is spoken against is called in Scripture, the cross. For Moses, it says, made a brazen serpent, and placed it for a sign. (Numb. 21:8.) GREGORY OF NYSSA. (non occ.) He has joined together honour and dishonour. For to us Christians this sign is a token of honour, but it is a sign of contradiction, inasmuch by some indeed it is received as absurd and monstrous, by others with the greatest veneration. Or perhaps Christ Himself is termed a sign, as having a supernatural existence, and as the author of signs. BASIL. (ubi sup.) For a sign betokens something marvellous and mysterious, which is seen indeed by the simple minded. ORIGEN. But all the things which history relates of Christ are spoken against, not that those who believe on Him speak against Him, (for we know that all the things which are written of Him are true,) but that every thing which has been written of Him is with the unbelievers a sign which is spoken against. GREGORY OF NYSSA. (non occ.) Though these things are said of the Son, yet they have reference also to His mother, who takes each thing to herself, whether it be of danger or glory. He announces to her not only her prosperity, but her sorrows; for it follows. And a sword shall pierce through thy own heart. BEDE. No history tells us that Mary departed this life by being slain with the sword, therefore since not the soul but the body is killed with iron, we are left to understand that sword which is mentioned, And a sword in their lips, (Ps. 59:7.) that is, grief because of our Lord’s passion passed through her soul, who although she saw Christ the very Son of God die a voluntary death, and doubted not that He who was begotten of her flesh would overcome death, could not without grief see Him crucified. AMBROSE. Or it shews the wisdom of Mary, that she was not ignorant of the heavenly Majesty. For the word of God is living and strong, and sharper than the sharpest sword. (Heb. 4:12.) AUGUSTINE. (de Nov. ac vet, Test. c. 73.) Or by this is signified that Mary also, through whom was performed the mystery of the incarnation, looked with doubt and astonishment at the death of her Lord, seeing the Son of God so humbled as to come down even to death. And as a sword passing close by a man causes fear, though it does not strike him; so doubt also causes sorrow, yet does not kill; for it is not fastened to the mind, but passes through it as through a shadow.

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

  27:31–3431. And after that they had mocked him, they took the robe off from him, and put his own raiment on him, and led him away to crucify him. 32. And as they came out, they found a man of Cyrene, Simon by name: him they compelled to bear his cross. 33. And when they were come unto a place called Golgotha, that is to say, a place of a skull, 34. They gave him vinegar to drink mingled with gall: and when he had tasted thereof, he would not drink. GLOSS. (non occ. Aug. de Cons. Ev. iii. 9.) After the Evangelist had narrated what concerned the mocking of Christ, he proceeds to His crucifixion. AUGUSTINE. This is to be understood to have been done at the end of all, when He was led off to crucifixion after Pilate had delivered Him up to the Jews. JEROME. It is to be noted, that when Jesus is scourged and spit upon, He has not on His own garments, but those which He took for our sins; but when He is crucified, and the show of His mockery is completed, then He takes again His former garments, and His own dress, and immediately the elements are shaken, and the creature gives testimony to the Creator. ORIGEN. Of the cloak it is mentioned that they took it off Him, but of the crown of thorns the Evangelists have not spoken, so that there are now no longer those ancient thorns of ours, since Jesus has taken them from us upon His revered head. CHRYSOSTOM. (Hom. de Cruc. et Lat. ii.) The Lord would not suffer under a roof, or in the Jewish Temple, that you should not suppose that He was offered for that people alone; but without the city, without the walls, that you might know that the sacrifice was common, that it was the offering of the whole earth, that the purification was general. JEROME. Let none think that John’s narrative contradicts this place of the Evangelist. John says that the Lord went forth from the prætorium bearing His cross; Matthew tells, that they found a man of Cyrene upon whom they laid Jesus’ cross. We must suppose that as Jesus went out of the prætorium, He was bearing His cross, and that afterwards they met Simon, whom they compelled to bear it.

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

  CHRYSOSTOM. Then to shew how inevitable the evils that should come upon the Jews, and how infinite their calamity, He adds, And let him which is on the housetop, not come down to take any thing out of his house, for it was better to be saved, and to lose his clothes, than to put on a garment and perish; and of him who is in the field He says the same. For if those who are in the city fly from it, little need is there for those who are abroad to return to the city. But it is easy to despise money, and not hard to provide other raiment; but how can one avoid natural circumstances? How can a woman with child be made active for flight, or how can she that gives suck desert the child she has brought forth? Woe, therefore, to them that are with child, and to them that give suck in those days; to the one, because they are encumbered, and cannot easily fly, bearing about the burden of the womb; to the other, because they are held by compassion for their children, and cannot save with them those whom they are suckling. ORIGEN. Or because that will not be a time of shewing pity, neither upon them who are with child, nor upon them who are suckling, nor upon their infants. And as speaking to Jews who thought they might travel no more upon the sabbath than a sabbath-day’s journey, He adds, But pray ye that your flight be not in the winter, neither on the sabbath. JEROME. Because in the one the severity of the cold prevents your flight to the deserts, and your lurking in mountains and wilds; in the other, you must either transgress the Law, if you will fly, or encounter instant death if you will stay. CHRYSOSTOM. Note how this speech is directed against the Jews; for when these things were done by Vespasian, the Apostles could neither observe the Sabbath nor fly, seeing most of them were already dead, and those who survived were living in distant countries. And why they should pray for this He adds a reason, For then shall be great tribulation, such as was not since the beginning of the world to this time, no, nor shall be.

• From New Testament Words (1964)

  I was stabbed to the heart, as if pierced with a five-inch nail.’ His sorrow for his sin was the sorrow of a broken heart. The word penthein tells us that we have not even begun on the Christian way until we take sin with such seriousness that our sorrow for it is like the mourning of one who mourns for the dead. Christianity begins with the godly sorrow of the broken heart. PHOBOS THE RIGHT AND THE WRONG FEAR Phobos means ‘fear’, and in all ages of Greek phobos is what is sometimes known as ‘a middle word’. That is to say, the word itself is quite neutral, and, according to the way in which it is used and the context in which it occurs, it can have either a good or a bad meaning, and can describe something which is useful and praiseworthy, or evil and contemptible. In Greek phobos, ‘fear’, can be the characteristic either of the coward or of the truly religious man. In classical Greek phobos has three main meanings. (i) In Homer it nearly always means ‘panic’ or ‘flight’. Panicstricken flight,’ says Homer, ‘which is the companion of chilliing phobos, fear’ (Iliad, 9.2). Phobos in early Greek has always in it the idea of running away, of fleeing panicstricken from the battle. The passive of the corresponding verb, phobeisthai, means ‘to be put to flight’, and it is the opposite of the verb hupomenein, from which comes hupomorie, and which means ‘to stand fast’ and ‘to endure’. The word has in it that failure of nerve which makes a man take to his heels and flee. (ii) More generally in classical Greek phobos means ‘fear’ in the widest sense of the term. It is the opposite of tharros, which means ‘courage’. (iii) Lastly, in classical Greek, phobos means ‘awe’ or ‘reverence’ for some exalted ruler and especially for some divinity or some god. It is the feeling which a man experiences in the presence of someone who is infinitely his superior. In the NT the word is common and occurs about 47 times. First of all, let us look at it in the Synoptic Gospels and in Acts. It is used of the reaction of the disciples when they saw Jesus walking on the water (Matt. 14.26) and when he stilled the storm (Mark 4.41). It is used of the reaction of the people after the healing of the paralysed man (Luke 5.26), after the raising of the widow’s son at Nain (Luke 7.16), after the healing of the Gerasene demoniac (Luke 8.37). It is used of the feeling of Zacharias when he saw the angel of the Lord beside the altar (Luke 1.12), and of the spectators when Zacharias recovered his speech (Luke 1.65). It is used of the shepherds when they heard the song of the angels (Luke 2.9).

• From Buddenbrooks: The Decline of a Family (1901)

  The first thing to do in the matter was to send wreaths, large wreaths, expensive wreaths, wreaths that could be used to honor people, that would be mentioned in the newspaper articles, and that could be seen to be from loyal people and able-bodied people came. They were sent, they flocked from all sides, from corporations as well as from families and individuals; Wreaths of laurel, of fragrant flowers, of silver, with black ribbons and those in the colors of the city, with dedications printed in black and those in gold letters. And palm fronds, immense palm fronds... All the flower shops were doing big business, not leastthe onevon Iwersen, opposite the Buddenbrook house. Mrs. Iwersen rang the bell several times a day and brought arrangements in various forms, from Senator so-and-so, from Consul so-and-so, from them and the civil service... Once she asked if she might not perhaps go upstairs and see the senator? Yes, she could, she was told, and she followed Fraulein Jungmann up the main staircase, glancing mutely up the gleaming stairwell. She walked heavily, for she was hopeful as usual. Her general appearance had become a little mean with the years, but the narrow-set black eyes and Malay cheekbones were attractive, and one could tell that she must once have been extraordinarily pretty. – She was let into the salon because Thomas Buddenbrook was lying in state there. He lay in the middle of the wide, bright room, the furniture of which had been removed, in the white silk upholstery of the coffin, dressed in white silk and covered with white silk, in a strong and intoxicating mixture of perfumes of tuberoses, violets, and a hundred other plants. At his head, in one Thorwaldsen's Blessing Christ stood in semicircles of silver candelabra, on plinths covered with flowers. The bouquets, wreaths, baskets, and bouquets stood and lay along the walls, on the floor, and on the quilt; Palm fronds leaned against the bier and bent over the dead man's feet. – His face was bruised in places, and his nose in particular showed bruises. But the hair on his head was styled as in real life, and the mustache, which old Herr Wenzel pulled out again with the curling tongs, towered long and rigid over his white cheeks. His head was turned a little to one side and an ivory cross was held between his clasped hands. Frau Iwersen stopped almost at the door and squinted at the stretcher; only when Frau Permaneder, all wrapped up in black and sniffed from crying, appeared from the living room between the porters and gently invited them to come closer, did she venture a little further forward on the parquet floor. She stood with her hands clasped on her protruding body and looked with her narrow black eyes at the plants, the candelabra, the ribbons, all the white silk and at Thomas Buddenbrook's face.

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

  Kaycie let a tear slide down her cheek. “Once in a while, especially when James and the boys are wrestling on the floor together, I notice an ache in my heart. Why couldn’t dad have stayed and wrestled with me? Why couldn’t he have stayed and told me I looked pretty, when I felt so awkward during those teen years? Why couldn’t he have been there when I went on my first date? Why couldn’t he have been there when I married James? Maybe I would have made some better decisions. I remember in junior high being so hungry for male attention I let the science teacher touch my breasts in the closet of his classroom. I felt so humiliated, but I wanted the attention. Is that sick?” Olivia asked the group if two or three of them could give Kaycie some feedback. “What are you feeling for Kaycie? Do you think she is sick?” Emily said, “Kaycie, I’m so sorry your dad wasn’t there for you. I can only imagine how hard that was for you. I hurt with you and wish you would have had the love and acceptance you needed instead of feeling so abandoned and vulnerable for male attention. You aren’t sick. You were hurt. It’s okay. I accept you.” Now the tears really started flowing. Olivia nodded at Holly, who wanted to speak. “Kaycie, you were a kid. It wasn’t your fault your dad left. You weren’t bad or inadequate; he left because of his stuff, not yours. You are enough. It’s okay for you to let yourself be close to your husband. He sounds like an okay guy and like he has worked hard on building trust with you and taking care of his side of the fence. I don’t want you to feel so alone. Thank you for letting us into your pain. I hope you feel supported and loved. You aren’t sick; it makes total sense as to why you let the science teacher touch you. Besides, he was the adult and should have known better. Remember, you were a kid. I accept you and love you.” Mary Francis then added, “Kaycie, you have made some huge connections today. I’m super proud of you. I can relate to you in so many ways. You go, girl!” Olivia sat back and asked if anyone else could relate to Kaycie. Mary Francis said, “Heck, I can’t remember the guys who I have let touch me. Some I let and some just took. I even made out with a girl in high school just to turn a guy on. I have had sex with guys at truck stops, in the back of pickups, and—well—you just name it. Talk about boundaries, I wouldn’t know where to start.” Suddenly Mary Francis looked like she wanted to throw up. “What is it, Mary Francis? What memory are you having in this moment?” Olivia asked.

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

  59. And about, the space of one hour after another confidently affirmed, saying, Of a truth this fellow also was with him: for he is a Galilæan. 60. And Peter said, Man, I know not what thou sayest. And immediately, while he yet spake, the cock crew. 61. And the Lord turned, and looked upon Peter. And Peter remembered the word of the Lord, how he had said unto him, Before the cock crow, thou shalt deny me thrice. 62. And Peter went out, and wept bitterly. AMBROSE. The wretched men understood not the mystery, nor had reverence unto an outpouring of compassion so merciful, that even His enemies He suffered not to be wounded. For it is said, Then look they him, &c. When we read of Jesus being holden, let us guard against thinking that He is holden with respect to His divine nature, and unwilling through weakness, for He is held captive and bound according to the truth of His bodily nature. BEDE. Now the Chief Priest means Caiaphas, who according to John was High Priest that year. AUGUSTINE. But first He was led to Annas, the father-in-law of Caiaphas, as John says, then to Caiaphas, as Matthew says, but Mark and Luke do not give the name of the High Priest. CHRYSOSTOM. (Hom. 83. in Matt.) It is therefore said, to the house of the High Priest, that nothing whatever might be done without the consent of the chief of the Priests. For thither had they all assembled waiting for Christ. Now the great zeal of Peter is manifested in his not flying when he saw all the others doing so; for it follows, But Peter followed afar off. AMBROSE. Rightly he followed afar off, soon about to deny, for he could never have denied if he had clung close to Christ. But herein must he be revered, that he forsook not our Lord, even though he was afraid. Fear is the effect of nature, solicitude of tender affection. BEDE. But that when our Lord was going to His Passion, Peter followed afar off represents the Church about to follow indeed, that is, to imitate our Lord’s Passion, but in a far different manner, for the Church suffers for herself, our Lord suffered for the Church. AMBROSE. And by this time there was a fire burning in the house of the High Priest; as it follows, And when they had kindled a fire, &c. Peter came to warm himself, because his Lord being taken prisoner, the heart of his soul had been chilled in him.

• From New Testament Words (1964)

  Jesus brought the good news which told not of the God of the threat, but the God of the promise. That by no means removes all obligations from life, for a promise brings its obligation just as much as a threat does, but the obligation becomes the obligation to answer to love and not to cower before vengeance. (v) The euaggelion is ‘the good news of immortality’ (II Tim. 1.10). In face of death the pagan sorrowed and feared as one who had no hope (I Thess. 4.13). One of the saddest of papyrus letters is a letter from a mother to a mother and father whose little child has died. ‘Irene to Taonnophris and Philo, good comfort. I was as sorry and wept over the departed one as I wept for Didymus. All things that were fitting I did…. But all the same in the face of such things there is nothing that anyone can do .’ That was the pagan outlook in the face of death. But the good news brings the certainty that death is not the end but the beginning of life, not the departure into annihilation but the departure to be for ever with God. (vi) The euaggelion is ‘good news of the risen Christ’ (I Cor. 15.1ff.; II Tim. 2.8). The good news which Christianity brings is that we do not worship a dead hero, but we live with a living presence. We are not left with only a pattern to copy and an example to follow, we are left with a constant companion of our way. Our faith is not a faith in a figure in a book who lived and died, but in one who rose from death and who is alive forever more. (vii) The euaggelion is ‘good news of salvation’ (Eph. 1.13). It is news of that power which wins us forgiveness for past sin, liberation from present sin, strength for the future to conquer sin. It is good news of victory. MESITĒS THE ONE BETWEEN Mesitēs is one of the great NT titles of Jesus. It is usually translated ‘mediator’. It comes from the Greek word mesos , which, in this instance, means ‘in the middle’, and mesites therefore means ‘a man who stands in the middle and who brings two parties together’. In the NT it is used in Gal. 3.19 of Moses, and in I Tim. 2.5; Heb. 8.6; 9.15; 12.24 of Jesus. It was just such a person for whom Job’s whole soul cried out in his misfortune, when he said of himself and God, ‘Neither is there any daysman, mesitēs , between us’ (Job 9.33). In classical Greek the word itself is not common, but the idea is very common. When it and its equivalents appear, they have two main meanings.

• From New Testament Words (1964)

  There is this word ptōchos. This word comes from the verb ptōssein, which means to cower or crouch; and it describes not simply honest poverty, and the struggle of the labouring man to make ends meet; it describes abject poverty, which has literally nothing and which is in imminent danger of real starvation. First, then, let us note that ptōchos does not describe genteel poverty but real, acute destitution. But behind this Greek word ptōchos, there lie two Hebrew words, the words ebion and ani. Both these words have a most interesting and significant development of meaning. Their meaning has three stages. (i) They mean simply ‘poor’, in the sense of lacking in this world’s goods (Deut. 15.4; 15.11). (ii) They go on to mean, because poor, therefore ‘downtrodden and oppressed’ (Amos 2.6; 8.4). (iii) It is then that they take their great leap in meaning. If a man is poor and downtrodden and oppressed, he has no influence on earth, no power, no prestige. He cannot look to men for help and when all the help and resources of earth are closed to him, he can only look to God. And, therefore, these words come to describe people who, because they have nothing on earth, have come to put their complete and total trust in God (Amos 5.12; Ps. 10.2, 12, 17; 12.5; 14.6; 68.10). We are now in a position to come at the real meaning of the Beatitude, ‘Blessed are the poor in spirit’. (i) It means: blessed is the man who has an utter sense of his own abject destitution in the sight of God, the man who feels not simply unsatisfactory, but who can only say, God be merciful to me, a sinner. (ii) But equally it means: blessed is the man who feels this sense of destitution and who has then put his utter and complete trust in God. So then the Beatitude means: blessed is the man who is conscious of a desperate need and who is utterly certain that in God, and in God alone, that need can be supplied. In the NT the ‘poor’ are those who realize their own abject helplessness and the wealth of the riches of the grace of God. SEMNOS AND SEMNOTĒS THE MAJESTY OF THE CHRISTIAN LIFE The adjective semnos and the noun semnotēs are characteristic words of the Pastoral Epistles. Only once does semnos occur outside the Pastoral Epistles. It is used in Phil. 4.8 in the phrase ‘whatsoever things are honest’. In the Pastoral Epistles semnos occurs three times. The deacons must be grave (I Tim. 3.8); the women, or perhaps it should be translated their wives, should have the same quality (I Tim. 3.11). The aged women must live as becometh holiness (Titus 2.3).