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Hope

Hope is not optimism. Optimism is a temperament; hope is a posture taken inside conditions that do not warrant it. The body leans forward; the eye looks ahead; the breath lengthens a little — and the lean is held against evidence, not because of it. Vela reads hope through writers who have lived close enough to despair to know the difference.

Working definition · Forward-leaning expectancy—the felt possibility that something good can still arrive.

4320 passages · 1 Vela essay · in 1 cluster

Vela’s read on this emotion

Hope is one of the most counterfeited of the emotions Vela reads. Optimism counterfeits it. Wishful thinking counterfeits it. The motivational register counterfeits it most loudly. The reading attends to a more specific posture: hope as the leaning-forward the body assumes under conditions in which the future is not guaranteed and the leaning still matters.

The memoir is densest where hope has had to be argued for. Anne Frank's diary keeps hope as a daily decision under conditions designed to refuse it. Vaclav Havel — the Czech dissident and later president, writing under late-Communist censorship — distinguished hope from optimism in a passage now widely cited: hope is an *orientation of the spirit*, an *orientation of the heart*, not a confidence that things will turn out well. The civil-rights tradition — Martin Luther King's *Letter from Birmingham Jail*, James Baldwin's essays, Audre Lorde's prose — preserves hope as discipline rather than feeling. The literature of chronic illness and disability — Christina Crosby's *A Body, Undone*, Paul Kalanithi's *When Breath Becomes Air* — holds hope inside conditions that have refused the easy version.

The contemplative tradition treats hope as a theological virtue, alongside faith and love. Paul, writing to the early church in Rome, named hope as what is *seen* but *not yet*. Julian of Norwich — the fourteenth-century English mystic — wrote *all shall be well* under conditions of plague, not under conditions of safety. Gandhi held hope as a political method — the long, attritional patience of *satyagraha*. Each of these reads hope as work, not as feeling.

Hope is not the same as optimism, expectation, or wishful thinking. Optimism is a temperament; hope is a posture. Expectation requires evidence; hope holds the future open without it. Wishful thinking faces away from the present; hope faces toward it. The four are kin; the reading keeps them distinct because the writers who have been most honest about each have kept them separate.

Study and magazine

Long-form guide in the magazine

An essay on how this word lives in language, in the tagged corpus, and in figurative art when curators pair passage with image — not a list of stages, not permission to feel.

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Passages

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

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4320 tagged passages

  • From The Spiral Staircase: My Climb Out of Darkness (2004)

    I started to eat normally again, quite spontaneously and without any real difficulty, which suggests to me that I was never truly anorexic. The pounds came back on and I barely noticed them. That phase was over. I had given up crying for help, because I had given up expecting any. Of course, I was grateful to the Harts and to Jane for their generosity to me during the crisis, but they could not touch the essential problem, nor could they ease my passage back to the world. Only I could do that, and toward the end of my third year of graduate study, I gave up psychiatry. Maybe this therapy could help others, but it had had no effect upon me at all. And besides, I told myself, I had submitted to other people’s programs and agendas for far too long. That, perhaps, was part of my trouble. It was now time to take my life into my own hands, instead of handing it over to other people, no matter how well intentioned. From now on, I was on my own. Thus, during the third year of my doctoral studies and some four and a half years after leaving my order, I turned a corner. I may have imbibed some of the spirit of the time, because during the late sixties and early seventies, laws that had hitherto seemed to be part of the very nature of things were being severely challenged. It was starting to be impossible now to assume that men were superior to women, that homosexuality was a crime, that whites should rule blacks. Women were taking command of their own lives, were campaigning for equal rights—and beginning to get them. In November 1970, the Gay Liberation Front had held its first public demonstration in Britain. In the United States, South Africa, and Europe, an unprecedented racial equality was beginning—slowly and painfully—to overturn centuries of enslavement and oppression. Nelson Mandela and Martin Luther King were heroes to students all over the world. People were beginning to think in new ways, to cast aside a discredited past, and were gradually transforming the world. In my own small way, when I left the religious life, I too had faced the unthinkable, broken a taboo, and crossed a frontier that had once seemed impassable. I too was beginning to think differently, and to realize that assumptions that had hitherto held me in thrall were by no means cast in stone. It was even possible that one day I would be able to sing “We Shall Overcome” with the rest of my generation.

  • From The Spiral Staircase: My Climb Out of Darkness (2004)

    But that was his privilege; it was not for me. This moment of grace was precious for its own sake, because it was an earnest of recovery. Of course, I realized that there was still a long way to go, but I now knew that I could feel things, that I was not emotionally dead, as I had feared, and that my mind was beginning to come to life again. I was also aware that my full recovery depended upon my obeying certain rules. I was especially struck by Eliot’s line “I rejoice that things are as they are.” For years I had told myself that black was white and white black; that the so-called proofs of God’s existence had truly convinced me; that I might not be feeling happy, but that I really was happy because I was doing God’s will; that sewing for hours at a machine without a needle was the most profitable way of spending time. I had deliberately told myself lies and stamped hard on my mind whenever it had reached out toward the truth. As a result I had warped and incapacitated my mental powers. From now on I must be scrupulous about telling the truth, especially to myself. I realized that this would not be a popular stratagem. I had noticed how frequently people rushed to put an optimistic gloss on a disaster or a difficulty, even when their interpretation seemed at obvious variance with the facts. As Eliot had said in another poem: “Human kind / Cannot bear very much reality.” It was probably natural for us to deny pain or at least to try to push it out of sight. I could see that this could be a useful survival technique. While you were marveling at your silver lining, you could be making all kinds of unconscious adjustments so that when the storm finally broke you were in fact prepared. But I could not afford to do this. I was like a recovering alcoholic, who could not allow herself even a sip of this positive elixir, because it could awaken old destructive habits. That was why I could not go along with Dr. Piet and his theories any longer. For me, they did not reflect the way things really were. By making a habit of gazing unflinchingly at reality, however unpleasant, I too might learn to rejoice in it. So now I had a new project: to construct my own recovery by correcting the bias of my mind toward delusion, thus helping it to regain its former integrity. But I was only on the very first steps of Eliot’s winding stair; I had no idea how far I still had to go. For one thing, I was not nearly as resigned to my fate as I pretended.

  • From A Theology for the Social Gospel (1918)

    The modern conception of inspiration not only recog- nizes the free operation and the contributions of the dis- tinctive psychical equipment of the inspired person, but seeks in every way to get beyond the individual to the social group which produced him, to the spiritual prede- cessors who inspired him, and to the audience which moved him because he hoped to move it We might characterize the progress of the historical study of re- ligion in the last fifty years as a progressive effort to in- terpret religious individuals by their social contacts. The great work of biblical criticism has been to place every biblical book in its exact historical environment as a pre- liminary to understanding its religious message. The religionsgeschichtliche Methode’’ takes up the work where the critical method drops it, and reaches out still further, beyond the ideas and purposes of the literary per- son to the religious drifts and desires and beliefs of his age, to which he more or less consciously reacted. Every one who has shared in the results of this work will* appreciate how helpful and fruitful this process at its THE HOLY SPIRIT, REVELATION I9I best has been. It has opened up the inspiration of the past and released social values which had been completely locked away under the individualistic method of inter- pretation. The historical method has already done what the social gospel might wish it to do. Here we have a completed laboratory experiment proving the value and efficiency of a social understanding of religion. The only question is whether we can win just as strong a sense of the presence of God from this complicated social process of inspiration, as when God was believed to have dic- tated the books by a psychological miracle. It can be done, but the interpreter needs personal acquaintance with inspiration to do it. In another direction, however, we have not yet over- come the narrowing influence of the old, mechanical views of inspiration. Those who have had first-hand experience of inspira- tion either in their own souls or in the life of others, have always combined reverence for the authority of the word of the Lord and a realization of the human frailty and liability to error in the prophet. Paul and his churches had a rich experience of inspiration. Writing to the Thessalonians he asserts the right of prophesying, but takes the duty of critical scrutiny by the hearers as a matter of course: ‘‘Quench not the spirit (in your- selves) ; despise not prophesying (in others) ; scrutinize all utterances; appropriate what is good.’’ Inspiration did not involve infallibility when men knew it by ex- perience. When the inspirationalism of the primitive Church died 192 A THEOLOGY FOR THE SOCIAL GOSPEL

  • From Worried about Everything Because I Pray about Nothing (2022)

    Don’t be surprised if your prayer times morph into brainstorming sessions. That might be God gently nudging you into action. If prayer rarely leads to action, you’re doing it wrong. Some of my most creative moments have come from prayer. They didn’t start in creativity, of course. They started with whining. With me telling God how much a particular situation sucked and how He clearly needed to intervene. But they ended with me pacing the room, excitedly dreaming about how we could solve a problem that fifteen minutes earlier seemed overwhelming. If peace is the first benefit we receive from prayer, as we saw in the last chapter, purpose is a close second. The two go hand in hand. Peace refers to the assurance that God has a plan. Purpose refers to the part you and I play in that plan. Both are beautiful. God is committed to awakening our purpose and prodding us toward it. He knows what we can do, even if we don’t think we can do it. God cares about our present and our future. He sees the purpose, the plans, the potential written all over our lives. He placed those things within us, after all, and He calls them into existence day by day. When you go to God in prayer, you walk away with purpose. He gives you direction, guidance, instructions, challenges. He shows you dreams to chase and giants to conquer. Don’t ask God to guide your steps if you’re not ready to get off the couch. LET’S DO IT TOGETHER This principle that God involves us in the answers to our own prayers helps resolve a common misconception about prayer: that we either ask God to do something or we do it ourselves, but not both. Usually, when we face a problem, we try to solve it ourselves. When that doesn’t work, we call out to God in prayer for help. But if He doesn’t answer right away, we get frustrated and decide we’re going to handle it on our own. And so on and so forth, swinging like a pendulum between the “God will do it” and “I will do it” extremes. But those two options—God does it or I do it—are a false dichotomy. That is, they are not the only two options. They are also not mutually exclusive. When it comes to fixing problems, does God do it, or do I do it? Yes. It’s almost always both/and. We work and pray, and pray and work, and work and pray because life is a partnership with God . The beauty and mystery of prayer are found in that partnership of purpose. We can’t separate God’s work from ours, which is why we can’t separate prayer from action.

  • From A Theology for the Social Gospel (1918)

    Here again new social elements sprang up. The prac- tical necessities of the case created a social backing for the young candidate. Since his owix responses were still inarticulate, grown-up sponsors recited the creed and other formulas for him, and this service established a social relationship which often lasted for life. Since the faith of the child was still undeveloped, theology taught that the sponsors and the Church were to supply it. In modern time much finer ideas have been attached to infant baptism. The act is based on the organic unity of the family ; the parents thereby dedicate the child to God and pledge themselves to give it Christian nurture; the child is by baptism incorporated into the organism of the Church and made to share in its saving power ; the act ex- 200 A THEOLOGY FOR THE SOCIAL GOSPEL presses the consciousness of the Church that the child is a child of God and has a right to claim the divine pater- nity. These are much more Christian ideas than those which first called infant baptism into existence. Scarcely any Christian institution has experienced such changes and deteriorations as baptism, but of them all the loss of outlook toward the Kingdom of God was one of the most regrettable. Could the social gospel — at least in some instances — fill baptism with its original meaning? We could imagine a minister and a group of candidates who unite in feeling the evil of the present world-order and the promise and claims of the impend- ing Christian world-order, together using baptism to ex- press their solemn dedication to the tasks of the Kingdom of God, and accepting their rights as children of God within that Kingdom. In those churches in which bap- tism is administered in infancy, confirmation would of- fer the next best opportunity to impress and express such convictions. In the catechumenate the ancient Church put the candidate through long processes of exorcization to expel the demon powers which had infected him in his pagan life. Those churches which practise confirmation have shifted the instruction of the catechumenate to pre- cede confirmation; those churches which practise adult baptism are much in need of a period of systematic instruction before baptism. It would be a really rational and Christian form of exorcization to break the infection of the sinful and illusive world-order and to explain the nature of a distinctively Christian order of life. Siich a restoration of its earliest meaning might save BAPTISM AND THE LORD’s SUPPER 201

  • From A Theology for the Social Gospel (1918)

    THE HOLY SPIRIT, REVELATION 189 revelation was to be a message. Their religious experi- ences were moments of intense social consciousness. The Christian Church began its history as a commun- ity of inspiration. The new thing in the story of Pente- cost is not only the number of those who received the tongue of fire but the fact that the Holy Spirit had be- come the common property of a group. What had seemed to some extent the privilege of aristocratic souls was now democratized. The spirit was poured on all flesh ; the young saw visions, the old dreamed dreams ; even on the slave class the spirit was poured. The char- ismatic life of the primitive Church was highly impor- tant for its coherence and loyalty in the crucial days of its beginning. It was a chief feeder of its strong affections, its power of testimony, and its sacrificial spirit. Re- ligion has been defined as the life of God in the soul of man.’’ In Christianity it became also the life of God in the fellowship of man. The mystic experience was socialized. The doctrine of the inspiration of the Bible, as we all know, has passed through profound changes in recent years. The change has all been away from religious in- dividualism and toward a social comprehension of the religious facts. The process of inspiration was formerly conceived as a transaction between God and the individual. The higher the doctrine of inspiration, the more .solitary was the in- spired individual. It would have defeated the purpose of the doctrine to admit the presence of outside influences. Even the intellect and personality of the recipient were ipo A THEOLOGY FOR THE SOCIAL GOSPEL sometimes represented as passive and quiescent. Philo, whose ideas the early Church followed, said : A prophet gives forth nothing at all of his own, but acts as interpreter at the prompting of another in all his utter- ances, and as long as he is under inspiration he is in ig- norance, his reason departing from its place, and yielding up the citadel of the soul, when the divine Spirit enters into it and strikes at the mechanism of the voice.'' In extreme orthodoxy it was a liberal concession to grant that the divine power utilized and respected the literary style and individual outlook of the writer.

  • From A Theology for the Social Gospel (1918)

    6. The coming of the Kingdom of God will not be by peaceful development only, but by conflict with the Kingdom of Evil. We should estimate the powxr of sin too lightly if we forecast a smooth road. Nor does the insistence on continuous development eliminate the possibility and value of catastrophes. Political and social revolutions may shake down the fortifications of the Kingdom of Evil in a day. The Great War is a catastrophic stage in the coming of the Kingdom of God. Its direct effects will operate for generations. Our de- scendants will have a better perspective than we to see how all the sins of modern civilization have brought forth death after their own kind, and how the social repentance of nations may lay the foundation for a new beginning. Christ and the establishment of his Kingdom on earth embodied the ideal of an earthly realization of the Kingdom of God. It set up the extensive and intensive penetration of humanity by the Christian spirit as the aim and task of history. The victorious coming and kingly rule of Christ on earth is achieved by the organization of all mankind in a fellowship of children of God, and by the continuous ethical transformation of all society through the power of the Christian spirit. But since this takes place within the historic life of nations, the process is bound to human conditions and limits.” ESCHATOLOGY 227 7. An eschatology which is expressed in terms of historic development has no final consummation. Its consummations are always the basis for further develop- ment. The Kingdom of God is always coming, but we can never say “ Lo here.” Theologians often assert that this would be unsatisfactory. ‘‘ A kingdom of social righteousness can never be perfect; man remains flesh; new generations would have to be trained anew; only by a world-catastrophe can the Kingdom of glory be realized.” Apparently we have to postulate a static condition in order to give our minds a rest; an endless perspective of development is too taxing. Fortunately God is not tired as easily as we. If he called humanity to a halt in a “ kingdom of glory,” he would have on his hands some millions of eager spirits whom he has himself trained to ceaseless aspiration and achievement, and they would be dying of ennui. Besides, what is the use of a perfect ideal which never happens? A progres- sive Kingdom of righteousness happens all the time in instalments, like our own sanctification. Our race will come to an end in due time; the astronomical clock is already ticking which will ring in the end. Meanwhile we are on the march toward the Kingdom of God, and getting our reward by every fractional realization of it which makes us hungry for more. A stationary hu- manity would be a dead humanity. The life of the race is in its growth.

  • From History of the Christian Church: The Complete Set of Eight Volumes (1858)

    Socrates, Plato, Cicero, Seneca, and Plutarch rose highest among the ancient philosophers in their views of the future life, but they reached only to belief in its probability—not in its certainty. Socrates, after be was condemned to death, said to his judges: "Death is either an eternal sleep, or the transition to a new life; but in neither case is it an evil;"1104 and he drank with playful irony the fatal hemlock. Plato, viewing the human soul as a portion of the eternal, infinite, all-pervading deity, believed in its pre-existence before this present life, and thus had a strong ground of hope for its continuance after death. All the souls (according to his Phaedon and Gorgias, pass into the spirit-world, the righteous into the abodes of bliss, where they live forever in a disembodied state, the wicked into Tartarus for punishment and purification (which notion prepared the way for purgatory). Plutarch, the purest and noblest among the Platonists, thought that immortality was inseparably connected with belief in an all-ruling Providence, and looked with Plato to the life beyond as promising a higher knowledge of, and closer conformity to God, but only for those few who are here purified by virtue and piety. In such rare cases, departure might be called an ascent to the stars, to heaven, to the gods, rather than a descent to Hades. He also, at the death of his daughter, expresses his faith in the blissful state of infants who die in infancy. Cicero, in his Tusculan Questions and treatise De Senectute, reflects in classical language "the ignorance, the errors, and the uncertainty of the ancient philosophers with regard to the immortality of the soul." Though strongly leaning to a positive view, he yet found it no superfluous task to quiet the fear of death in case the soul should perish with the body. The Stoics believed only in a limited immortality, or denied it altogether, and justified suicide when life became unendurable. The great men of Greece and Rome were not influenced by the idea of a future world as a motive of action. During the debate on the punishment of Catiline and his fellow-conspirators, Julius Caesar openly declared in the Roman Senate that death dissolves all the ills of mortality, and is the boundary of existence beyond which there is no more care nor joy, no more punishment for sin, nor any reward for virtue. The younger Cato, the model Stoic, agreed with Caesar; yet before he made an end to his life at Utica, he read Plato’s Phaedon. Seneca once dreamed of immortality, and almost approached the Christian hope of the birth-day of eternity, if we are to trust his rhetoric, but afterwards he awoke from the beautiful dream and committed suicide. The elder Pliny, who found a tragic death under the lava of Vesuvius, speaks of the future life as an invention of man’s vanity and selfishness, and thinks that body and soul have no more sensation after death than before birth; death becomes doubly painful if it is only the beginning of another indefinite existence. Tacitus speaks but once of immortality, and then conditionally; and he believed only in the immortality of fame. Marcus Aurelius, in sad resignation, bids nature, "Give what thou wilt, and take back again what and when thou wilt."

  • From The Spiral Staircase: My Climb Out of Darkness (2004)

    In 1989, my heart newly sensitized to pain, I found that I was constantly jolted out of my bitter, frustrated introspection by the spectacles of suffering that assailed me every time I turned on my television or opened a newspaper. I knew what it was like when people ignored your needs, but my little woes paled into insignificance when compared with the suffering of the Lebanese, the people of El Salvador or South Africa. I was beginning to act according to the Golden Rule, even though my new awareness of the world’s pain did not seem religious to me, because I didn’t associate religion with this type of sympathy. But it was not sufficient simply to emote in front of the television screen. This habit of empathy had to become a regular part of my life, and it had to find practical expression. It could easily degenerate into self-indulgence, and would not have changed me had I not acted upon it. These were momentous months. During the autumn and winter of 1989 one Communist government in the former Soviet Union fell after another. Crowds smashed the Berlin Wall and danced upon this hated symbol of a divided Europe. On December 22 the Brandenburg Gate was ceremonially opened, uniting East and West. The world that had come into being after the Second World War seemed to be undergoing radical change. I was still feeling frightened and depressed about my own circumstances, but it was impossible not to feel stirrings of hope. The Berlin Wall had seemed an unshakable reality; it had been an image of nearly everything that had gone wrong in Europe, but now it was no more. If unthinkable change could take place on this scale, could not something—anything—move for me? And indeed it did, when my new agent, Felicity Bryan, managed at about this time to find a publisher for A History of God. Helen Fraser of Heinemann, who had been at St. Anne’s with me and had even made a brief appearance in Through the Narrow Gate, offered a modest advance, and we agreed that I would submit the manuscript sometime in 1992. We decided to wait until after the book was finished before trying to find an American publisher, when Felicity felt that we would have a better chance. I was delighted. With the money that I was beginning to earn from reviewing and writing the occasional article, I could just keep afloat financially. But most important, I felt that I now had a future. I settled down to work with a greater sense of purpose and direction, looking forward to two years of uninterrupted research. But in February 1990, this tidy program was interrupted by a new confrontation with the Islamic world.

  • From Worried about Everything Because I Pray about Nothing (2022)

    a way to get people to wake up and return to God, Elijah prayed that the rains would stop in Israel. From that day on, it didn’t rain. Three years later, God spoke to Elijah and said it was time for the drought to end. He was going to bring rain to the land. But first, Elijah needed to confront the nation about their idolatry and ask them to repent. What followed was the most epic showdown imaginable between Elijah and the false religion of Baal worship that had captivated Israel. Essentially, Elijah challenged the priests of Baal to a divine duel. Their god didn’t do a thing, of course. Then God sent fire from heaven, and Israel realized they needed to get their act together. It still hadn’t rained, but Elijah knew what God had promised. This is where the story really gets interesting. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and it hadn’t rained in three years, but Elijah told the king, Ahab, “There is the sound of a heavy rain” (1 Kings 18:41). Ahab probably raised his eyebrows at that crazy statement, but he had just seen Elijah call down fire from heaven, so he wasn’t about to argue. The story continues. Elijah climbed up a mountain, “bent down to the ground and put his face between his knees” (verse 42). I know that sounds like a yoga position, but it was a posture of prayer. It’s one you won’t ever find me using because I’m in my forties and not as flexible as I used to be, but Elijah was an amazing guy. And apparently very fit. It’s fascinating to me that Elijah’s response to the promise of God was to pray. He knew God was in charge, but he also realized he had a part to play in the process. Not a huge part, granted, because he was as human as you and me, and therefore couldn’t control weather patterns—but an important part, nonetheless. So he prayed. And nothing happened. No rain. No wind. No clouds. Elijah sent his servant to look toward the Mediterranean Sea, sparkling in the distance. He was expecting to see a storm on the horizon, but the servant told him, “There is nothing there” (verse 43).

  • From A Theology for the Social Gospel (1918)

    4. As to the way in which the Christian ideal of society is to come, — we must shift from catastrophe to development. Since the first century the divine Logos has taught us the universality of Law, and we must ap- ply it to the development of the Kingdom of God. It is the untaught and pagan mind which sees God's presence only in miraculous and thundering action; the more Christian our intellect becomes, the more we see God in growth. By insisting on organic development we shall follow the lead of Jesus when, in his parables of the sower and of the seed growing secretly, he tried to edu- cate his disciples away from catastrophes to an under- standing of organic growth. We shall also be follow- ing the lead of the fourth gospel, which translated the terms of eschatology into the operation of present spir- itual forces. We shall be following the lead of the Church in bringing the future hope down from the clouds and identifying it with the Church; except that we do not confine it to the single institution of the Church, but see the coming of the Kingdom of God in all ethical and spiritual progress of mankind. To convert the catastrophic terminology of the old eschatology into developmental terms is another way of expressing faith in the immanence of God and in the presence of Christ. It is more religious to believe in a present than in an absent and future Christ. Jesus saw the Kingdom as present and future. This change from catastrophe to development is the most essential step to enable modern men to appreciate the Christian hope.^ ^Pfleiderer, “Grundriss der christlichen Glaubenslehre, ’ §I77» has this fine summary : “ The primitive Christian faith in the return or 226 A THEOLOGY FOR THE SOCIAL GOSPEL 5. This process will have to utilize all constructive and educational forces in humanity. In our conception of personal regeneration, likewise, we have been compelled to think less of emotional crises and more of religious nur- ture and education. The coming of the Kingdom of God will be the regeneration of the super-personal life of the race, and will work out a social expression of what was contained in the personality of Christ.

  • From The Fermata (1994)

    They don’t even explode when you use them as temp shoehorns; they just tingle for a second as your impassive heel forces itself past.) Even so, I knew I was on the right track experimentally when, just around that time, I came across a paperback about UFOs in a carousel at a Mass Pike gift shop. It was a collection of letters from the general public to the air force describing flying-saucer sightings, interior layouts, and so on. One of the letters was from a man who thought that UFOs were generating the antigravity forces on which they supposedly hovered by spinning quantities of loose dirt and boulders in a doughnut-shaped inner ring built into the perimeter of the spacecraft. The author of the letter supplied a rough illustration which showed the rotating fill and the resultant lift. I knew that his idea was flawed and foolish, but I also knew that he had rightly sensed, as I had, centrifugation’s evocative peculiarity, its possibly mystical potential. It wasn’t the pull of gravity that spin would neutralize, I felt; it was the pull of time. The longer I studied our washing machine with the lid open, the more I realized that “for best results” I would have to be directly linked to the unnatural forces that my clothes were experiencing. But I hesitated to climb into the clothes basket. I had heard stories of broken fingers and dislocated shoulders. I thought, however, that if I had a way of plucking something of my own abruptly from a state of extreme spin and putting it on while it was still damp, time would be shocked to a stop until my garment dried. It was worth a try, anyway. Just at the close of a rinse cycle, I tied a length of brown twine around a dripping dark-red T-shirt as tightly as I could and tossed it back in the machine. When the spinning began I stood on a chair and held the end of the twine above the basket so that it could bobbin freely. At the right moment I jerked hard on the twine, shouting, “Now!” My red T-shirt flew twirling into the room like a flushed duck. I put it on and ran outside, full of hope. But the two-tone leaves were aflutter on the lindens and I could hear the usual traffic, so I knew that I had failed. I liked letting the shirt dry and its color lighten on me, though. A few days later, when there were enough dirty clothes to make another load, I hammered a finishing nail into the table next to the washing machine and mounted a spool of heavy-duty thread onto it. I wound the end of the thread clockwise around the spindle of the washing machine at the commencement of spin.

  • From Tipping the Velvet (1998)

    But there was something very appealing about that Fe-Male. I saw myself in it - in the hyphen.I memorised the address. It was for a road named Green Street, which turned out to be wonderfully near - a narrow little street off the Gray’s Inn Road itself, with a well-kept terrace on one side, and a rather grim-looking tenement on the other. The number I sought was one of the houses, and looked very pleasant, with a pot of geraniums upon the step and, beside that, a three-legged cat, washing its face. The cat gave a hop as I approached, and lifted its head for me to tickle.I pulled on the bell, and was greeted by a kind-faced, white-haired lady in an apron and slippers; she let me in at once when I explained my visit, introduced herself as ‘Mrs Milne’, then spent a moment fussing over the cat. While she did so I looked about me, and blinked. The hallway was as crowded with pictures, almost, as Mrs Dendy’s old front parlour. These pictures were not, however, theatrical in theme; indeed, so far as I could make out, they had nothing in common at all save the fact that each of them was very brightly-hued. Most seemed rather cheap - some had evidently been cut from books and papers, and pinned frameless to the wall - but there were one or two rather famous images. Above the umbrella-stand, for example, hung a copy of that gaudy painting The Light of the World; beneath it was an Indian picture, of a slender blue god wearing spit-black on the eyes, and holding a flute. I wondered whether Mrs Milne was perhaps some form of religious maniac - a theosophist, or a Hindoo convert.When she saw me looking at the walls, however, she smiled in a most Christian-like way. ‘My daughter’s pictures,’ she said, as if that explained it all. ‘She does like the colours.’ I nodded, then followed her up the stairs.She took me directly to the room that was for rent. It was a pleasant, ordinary kind of chamber, and everything in it was clean. Its chief attraction was its window: this was long, and split down the middle to form a pair of glass doors; and these opened on to a little iron balcony, that overlooked Green Street and faced the shabby tenement.‘It’ll be eight shillings for the rent,’ said Mrs Milne as I gazed about me. I nodded. ‘You’re not the first girl that I’ve seen,’ she went on, ‘but, to be honest, I was hoping for an older lady - I thought perhaps a widow. My niece was here until very recently, but had to leave us to get married.

  • From The Chronology of Water (2011)

    At my senior prom in Florida I armwrestled five boys about to become men. I lost once. After the dance we all got drunk and climbed the fence of the pool in Gainesville, Florida. We went skinny dipping in a 50-meter competition pool - the same pool I spent two hours every morning, two hours every evening in swimming. My body was stronger than it has ever been in my life. I looked like someone’s son. The biceps of a son. The jaw. The shoulders. My hair whiting out gender. Breastless. When it came time for everyone to make out, I did laps. That summer was long and wet differently for me than it was for other people. The air got thick with more than heat. In June, letters began to arrive in our mailbox. They were scholar - ship offers. For swimming. Exit visas. In the evenings, I’d go out to the mailbox. My breathing would jackknife in my lungs just before I opened the box, and I’d shuffle through our idiotic mail waiting to feel the weight of something different. Waiting for my leaving. Five letters came. The first scholarship letter was cool and weighted in my hands. It was from Brown. The red and black logo of Brown University on the envelope looked royal to me. I ran my fingertips across it. The envelop felt smooth - the paper announcing its difference. I smelled it. I closed my eyes. I held it against my heart. I walked it to the house almost believing in something. Inside, I put it on the kitchen table. It sat there all through dinner - which we ate in the living room watching TV. Barney Miller. I could feel the blood in my ears. After dinner, after Taxi, after my father smoked three cigarettes, he finally went into the kitchen. And my mother. And me. We sat at the kitchen table like I guess families do. My mother and I breathing. He opened the letter more slowly than a retarded person. He read it silently. I watched his eyes. Blue like mine. In my head I swam laps. My mother sat to the side of me like a drunk lump patting her one hand with the other. I tried not to bite my tongue off. Finally, he spoke. A¾ ride. At a Snob school. A snob school for silver spoon girls and rich assholes. My mother looked out the window into the Florida night. I stared at the paper with the Brown logo on it. And my name. I knew it wasn’t money. We had money. It was what came out of his mouth next, his cigarette smoke making shame swirls around my face. Did I think I was special? Like someone squeezing my neck. In my throat I swallowed language.

  • From A Theology for the Social Gospel (1918)

    3, The hope of a higher life for the race does not solve the problem of the individual. It is a matter of pro- found satisfaction to those whose life has really matured and been effective to think that they have made a con- tribution to the richness and the redemption of the race. But none of us lives out his life fully. There arc en- dowments in us which have never been put to use for others, and tastes and cravings which have been starved and suppressed. Moreover only a small percentage of men and women under present conditions are able to develop their powers beyond the feeblest beginnings. A large percentage die in childhood; uncounted others have been used up by labour, — shrunken and intimi- dated souls. Where do they come in? Is it enough for them to think that they have been laid like sills in the mud that future generations may live in the mansion erected on their dead bodies and souls? Besides, the best society on earth can not last for ever. This planet may end at any time and it is sure to die by collision or old age some time. What then will be the net product of all our labours? Plainly a man has a larger and completer hope if he looks forward to eternal life for himself as well as to a better destiny for the race. 4. It is our business, however, to christianize both expectations. It is possible to fear hell and desire heaven in a pagan spirit, with a narrow-minded selfish- ness that cares nothing for others, and is simply an extension to the future life of the grabbing spirit fos- 230 A THEOLOGY FOR THE SOCIAL GOSPEL tered by the Kingdom of Evil. The desire for heaven gets Christian dignity and quality only when it arises on the basis of that solidaristic state of mind which is cul- tivated by the social gospel. 5. Two theories, quite unlike, are held as private opinions by many Christian individuals, though not sanctioned by traditional theology. The theory of con- ditional immortality is largely based on evolutionary ideas. It holds that only those will survive who have attained to a spiritual life capable of surviving. The theory of re-incarnation, which has been held by a few eminent minds in theology and by many outside of it, comes to us mostly through theosophical channels from the East. It teaches that we live in a succession of lives, each of them adapted to the spiritual attainments of the individual and disciplinary in its effect; through them we can gradually exhaust the possibilities of human life and rise to spiritual levels above man.

  • From A Theology for the Social Gospel (1918)

    The mingling of populations and religions in modern life makes the influence of religion less noticeable, but it still works as a bond of sympathy. It is easiest to trace it where the religious cleavage coincides with the racial or political cleavages. The French Catholics in Quebec and the English Protestants in Ontario; the Irish and the Ulstermen ; the Catholic Belgians and the Protestant Dutch; the Latin nations of America and the United States ; — the mention of the names brings up the prob- lem. The Balkans are a nest of antagonisms partly be- cause of religious differences. It has been fortunate for the American negro that the antagonism of race and so- cial standing has not been intensified in his case by any difference of religion.^ The spread of a monotheistic faith and the recognition of a single God of all mankind is a condition of an ethical union of mankind in the future. This is one of the long- range social effects of Christian missions. The effects of Christianity will go far beyond its immediate converts. Every competing religion will be compelled to emphasize its monotheistic elements and to allow its polytheistic in- gredients to drop to a secondary stage. ^ I have seen Southern pamphlets undertaking to prove that the negroes are not descended from Adam, but have evolved from African jungle beasts. The very orthodox authors were willing to accept the heretical philosophy of evolution for the black people, i86 A THEOLOGY FOR THE SOCIAL GOSPEL But it is essential to our spiritual honesty that no im- perialism shall masquerade under the cover of our re- ligion. Those who adopt the white man’s religion come under the white man’s influence. Christianity is the re- ligion of the dominant race. The native religions are a spiritual bulwark of defence, independence, and loyalty. If we invite men to come under the same spiritual roof of monotheism with us and to abandon their ancient shel- ters, let us make sure that this will not be exploited as a trick of subjugation by the Empires. As long as there are great colonizing imperialisms in the world, the propa- ganda of Christianity has a political significance. God is the common basis of all our life. Our human personalities may seem distinct, but their roots run down into the eternal life of God. In a large way both philos- ophy and science are tending toward a recognition of the truth which religion has felt and practised. The all- pervading life of God is the ground of the spiritual one- ness of the race and of our hope for its closer fellow- ship in the future.

  • From Worried about Everything Because I Pray about Nothing (2022)

    When you go to God in prayer, you walk away with purpose. He gives you direction, guidance, instructions, challenges. He shows you dreams to chase and giants to conquer. Don’t ask God to guide your steps if you’re not ready to get off the couch. LET’S DO IT TOGETHER This principle that God involves us in the answers to our own prayers helps resolve a common misconception about prayer: that we either ask God to do something or we do it ourselves, but not both. Usually, when we face a problem, we try to solve it ourselves. When that doesn’t work, we call out to God in prayer for help. But if He doesn’t answer right away, we get frustrated and decide we’re going to handle it on our own. And so on and so forth, swinging like a pendulum between the “God will do it” and “I will do it” extremes. But those two options—God does it or I do it—are a false dichotomy. That is, they are not the only two options. They are also not mutually exclusive. When it comes to fixing problems, does God do it, or do I do it? Yes. It’s almost always both/and. We work and pray, and pray and work, and work and pray because life is a partnership with God. The beauty and mystery of prayer are found in that partnership of purpose. We can’t separate God’s work from ours, which is why we can’t separate prayer from action. We pray according to His will. (1 John 5:14) We ask for His heavenly purposes to come to pass on the earth. (Luke 11:2) We know and follow His voice. (John 10:27) He created good works beforehand for us to walk in them. (Ephesians 2:10) He has called us according to His purpose. (Romans 8:28) Can you see how connected all of this is? What we do and what God does are literally inseparable.

  • From How to Be Yourself: Quiet Your Inner Critic and Rise Above Social Anxiety (2018)

    Just like Jim, the courage to face your fears is in you, too. You can shrink how much time you spend with social anxiety. Now you know how to question your worries with “How bad would that really be?,” “What are the odds?,” and “How would I cope?” You know how to talk to yourself with compassion and understanding, creating a supportive environment from which you can do hard things. You know that if you jump in before you’re confident your confidence will catch up. You know that if you choose a role, a goal, or otherwise create some structure for yourself, you’ll feel more certain and focused. You know that each trip over the anxiety peak erodes it. You know to drop your safety behaviors—those life preservers that do nothing but hold you under, and by doing so you’ll reap the authenticity that follows. You know to shift your attention to the task at hand, the person in front of you, or even, mindfully, to your breath. You can see yourself as others see you instead of the funhouse mirror image. You can dare to be average. You can trust that your foibles and blunders make you more endearing. You know to keep showing up, to disclose bits of your life, and to show others you like them. And most of all, you know to be kind and trustworthy. All these tools are in your toolbox, a shiny new set. Plus, they’ve all been shown to work again and again by some of the most brilliant research minds out there. But just like it took you time and practice to learn to ride a bike or drive a car, it will take time and practice to master these new tools. But you don’t have to master all of them (remember, we’re toning down the perfectionism). Choose your two or three favorites and make them your go-tos. For me, asking myself, “How bad would that really be?,” turning my attention inside out, and showing people I like them are my go-tos. These get me through 90 percent of my anxious moments. And the other 10 percent? Well, either I get a good story out of it or, yes, sometimes I fold ’em and try again later. Best yet, you can lose social anxiety without losing the good things that come along with it. The good things? Yes, remember, a propensity toward social anxiety comes as a package deal. We are empathetic—we have the ability to understand and share the feelings of others. We are conscientious—we do things thoroughly and well. Those high standards of ours propel us to success in what we do. Finally, we value getting along. And in an increasingly fractious world, the ability to get along—to be kind, to be trusted—is ultimately what will draw others to you.

  • From A Theology for the Social Gospel (1918)

    ESCHATOLOGY 233 diversification in Danteshows the possibility of the other view. 1 We want the possibility of growth. We can not conceive of finite existence or of human happiness except interms of growth. It wouldbemore satis- factory formodern mindsand for Christian minds to think of anunlimited scale ofascent toward God, reach- ing from the lowestto the highest, withinwhich every spirit wouldhold the place forwhich it was fitted, and each couldadvance as it grew. This would satisfy our* sense of justice. Believers in the social gospel will probably agree that some people have deservedhell and ought to get theirs. But no man, in any human sense of justice, hasdeserved an eternity of hell.On theother hand, it jars our sense of justice to see some individuals go to heaven totally exempt. They have given hellto others and ought to have ataste ofit somewhere, even if they are regenerate and saved men. 7. Thisidea wouldalso satisfy ourChristian faith in the redeeming mercy of God. In this ascending scale of beings none would beso high that he couldnot be drawn still closer to God, and noneso low thathe would be beyond the love of God. God would still be teaching and saving all. Ifwe learned in heaven that a minority were in hell, weshould look at Godto seewhat he was going todo about it; and ifhe did nothing, weshould look at Jesus to see how this harmonized with what he taught us about his Father; and if he did nothing, some- thing would die out of heaven. Jonathan Edwards l Prof. William Adams Brown, in the closingpages of his * Christian Theology in Outline" .points out the needfor progress, and explains the hold whichthe doctrine of purgatory has on Catholics.

  • From A Theology for the Social Gospel (1918)

    228 A THEOLOGY FOR THE SOCIAL GOSPEL our conceptions of the life hereafter are deeply af- fected by the fundamental convictions of the social gos- pel. 1. There is no inherent contradiction whatever be- tween the hope of the progressive development of man- kind towardthe Kingdom of God and the hope of the consummation ofour personal life inan existence after death. The religious belief in the future lifeis often bitterly attacked by social radicals because inactual practice the deep interest init which is cultivated by the Church, weakens interest in social justice and acts as a narcotic tonumb the sense of wrong. The more the social gospel does its work within the Church, the more will this moral suspicion against the doctrine of the future life lessen. 2. Belief in afuture life is not essential to religious faith. The religious minds who speak to us from the pages of the Old Testament, though they probably be- lieved infuture existence, apparently gained neither comfort nor incentive from that belief. Thereis doubt- less an increasing number of religious men and women today whofind theirsatisfaction in serving God now, but expect their personal existence toend at death. The hope that we shallsurvive death is not a self- evident proposition. When it is intelligent, itis anact of faith, a tremendous assertion of faith. It may get support from science, from philosophy, orfrom psychical research, butitsmain supports are the resurrection of Christ, his teachings, and thecommon faith ofthe Christian Church, which all embolden theindividual. Further, the sense of personality, which isintensified

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