Humiliation
Humiliation is shame inflicted by another. The verdict travels in from outside and lands on the self — the agency runs in the wrong direction. The body recognizes the difference: where shame lowers the head, humiliation often raises it first, in the half-second before the lowering, because the self is still trying to refuse the witness.
Working definition · A crushing sense of lowered status or forced visibility in front of others.
753 passages · in 1 cluster
Vela’s read on this emotion
Humiliation has a relational shape that shame on its own does not. The exposure has a face, or a crowd, or an institution behind it — and the inflicting witness keeps acting on the self long after the moment ends.
The reading runs through several literatures. Ta-Nehisi Coates, in *Between the World and Me*, writes humiliation as the inheritance of a body marked for surveillance — the daily, civic shape of it, not the spectacular kind. Trevor Noah's *Born a Crime* names humiliation routed through racial law: the child whose existence was illegal, the mother who refused the verdict the state was trying to install. Roxane Gay's *Hunger: A Memoir of (My) Body* tracks humiliation across the years a survivor's body is read by strangers who do not know what the body has held. The testimony from the AIDS years — including the personal essays and oral histories that came out of ACT UP, the activist coalition that confronted the early epidemic — preserves humiliation as a public condition of dying in a society refusing to look.
Humiliation also runs through the literature of cults and total institutions. Carolyn Jessop's *Escape*, Donna M. Johnson's *Holy Ghost Girl*, and Patricia Walsh Chadwick's *Little Sister* each preserve the texture of being made small inside a community that has named smallness as virtue.
Humiliation is not the same as shame, guilt, or embarrassment. Shame is the self's own verdict on the self; humiliation is another's verdict imposed. Guilt is about an act; humiliation is about a witnessing. Embarrassment is the brief, social register of having been seen out of order; humiliation cuts deeper and stays longer because the witness is still there.
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An essay on how this word lives in language, in the tagged corpus, and in figurative art when curators pair passage with image — not a list of stages, not permission to feel.
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From Introduction to the Hebrew Bible and Deutero-Canonical Books (2018)
gives a banquet for the women at the same time. Persian kings were famous for their banquets, but the description given in Esther is clearly hyperbolic. No banquet would have lasted for 180 days (half a year!). In all, Esther describes no fewer than seven banquets at the royal court. Banquets become, in effect, a major structuring device of the story, which also includes three Jewish feasts toward the end of the narrative. The feasting, however, takes an unpleasant turn. The king orders the queen to appear before him “wearing the royal crown, in order to show the peoples and the officials her beauty” (1:11). Vashti refuses. The king’s desire to put his wife on display is of a piece with the ostentatiousness of his banquet. Herodotus tells a story about a Lydian king, Candaules, who was so proud of the beauty of his wife that he insisted that his bodyguard, Gyges, should see her naked (Herodotus 1.8-12). The queen was enraged when she discovered the plot and insisted that Gyges murder Candaules. Some ancient commentators supposed that Vashti was ordered to appear wearing only her crown, but this is not necessarily so. The idea of being put on display before a roomful of drunken men was offensive enough, even if she was fully clothed. The honor of the queen required that she refuse, but by so doing she slighted the honor of the king. Vashti’s refusal is elevated into an issue of imperial concern: if the queen can disobey her husband with impunity, so might any wife disobey her husband. So Vashti is banished from the king’s presence by a law of the Medes and the Persians that cannot be altered. The notion that a royal decree cannot be altered is a folkloric motif, found also in the book of Daniel. It heightens the drama of the story by creating circumstances that are beyond the king’s control (this motif is absent from the AT). The removal of Vashti sets the story of Esther in motion by creating the vacancy at the royal court that she would fill.
From A Hebrew and English Lexicon of the Old Testament (BDB) (1907)
Toppy n.m."*” dry earth, dust ;—abs. ‘y Gn 27 + , 0862. עפר Gn 13+; sf. עפרף Ez 26”, MY Dt 9%, ete.; pl. estr. עפרת Jb 28° Pr 8*; —1. lit.: a. dry, loose earth, thrown (in malice) 28 16: (|| N28); ויעלו ע' עלהראש Jos 7° (JE; sign of grief), so Ez 27" La 2”, and )6. P12) Jb 2”; loose earth (on surface of ground) 1K 18% Am2’ Mir™ Is 347° א1 17*%(H) Ez 24’ (in fig.), גוא 57 154 38% 39, Gn26"*(R), made into siege works Hb 1"; of sand-storm Dt 28% (+P38); as serpent’s food, token of punishment and humiliation, Gn 3% (J) Is 65” (cf. Miz” 2 6 infr.); זחלי ע' Dt 32% (poem ; 01. 2 6(. b. 56011. as material of human body Gn 27 3" (J), Ec 3”, cf. Jb 4% 8% ץ 103", to which it returns (“28 (שוּב Gn 3” 1510" 104” Ee 3”; so (c. (על 0 34* 180 12. ¢.=surface of ground Ex 89-55 (P; הָאָרֶץ ’Y), Jb 19” Is 25” 26° (both | (אֶרֶץ , surface of (whole) earth Jar vs niontp Is 2 (for hiding), so “y alone לו ek. Yon Fb 307 = sort SR” ד powder of anything pulverized Dt 9” (cf. Pa [Ex 32”), 2K 23°° so insim. 28 22¥=y18%, hence=ashes גוא יט 107. | 6. debris, of ruined city 1 K 20% Ez 26*5 Ne 3% 41+ 02". The 1011. are late: f. earth of the grave: IBV ’ yd Jb 77, so )66. by) 20! 217% 66 ree) Ve yy 22% 'ע 238 Ts 26%, אַדְמַתדע' U9 Dn 12°; NYY ע' ;"22 ש in fig. ץ 30". | ₪. mortar (i.e. dried mud) for plastering houses Ly 14%" #45(P), hh, (iron-) ore Jb 28°; AM עפרת +" gold- dust (but v. 2D). i. material of earth Is 40", of. 228 NAY ראש Pr 8% the first of the earth- - 0 עפר particles of the world. 2. fig.: a. of abun- dance Gn 135 28” (all J) 2 Ch 7 0% 787 ,(חול יָמִים||) ef. APY עפר Nu 23” (JE); with added idea of commonness, worthlessness Zp 1% Ze 95 b. of worthlessness (alone) Jb 22, ¢. sim. of the scattered, dispersed 2 K 13’; ‘YB Is 417 (so van 0. 11. Ginsb; Baer /Y3; on meaning v. Du Che, rdg. תִּשִימָם for jM). 6. of self-abasement Gn 187 (+ 788), rynby ְנַחַמְתִּי TAN) Jb 42°, פיה “Ya JM La 3%. | 6. of humilia- tion (sitting or lying in dust) Is 47! ef. 29%, Jb 16” 40% ץ 7° 44° 119”, sim. Jb 30%; lick- ing dust p 72° Is 49% Mi7™, cf. TelAm. tikalu tpra (of enemies, v. Wk] A! Forsch. iil. 291. also of serpent 1 a supr.); of י' raising from the dust 1S 2°=wyW113', 1K 16°; of lifting oneself 15 1 עפר] [ vb. denom. Pi. 72y3 72y1 2S 16" and kept dusting (him) with dust (throwing [lumps 04 [ dry earth at him).
From The Great Believers (2018)
“I don’t understand why you did it,” she said. “You can’t sacrifice your career just to be noble!” He imitated her voice. “Just like you can’t sacrifice your college education just to be noble!” Fiona decided she wanted a soda, and so as Roman came out, she went in. Roman looked comically out of place next to the scattered Wisconsinite families with their puffy coats. He wore a black bomber jacket over his black T-shirt, and of course his jeans and shoes and glasses were black as well. Like a terribly chic undertaker. He came and stood next to Yale, who pretended to read a historical sign about Marquette and Joliet. He was still thinking about Bill, about Asher, and now here was Roman, reading the sign too, close enough that Yale could hear him breathe. Their arms, after a minute, were touching. Their shoulders, their hips. Roman moved his hand behind Yale as if he were going to touch it to his back, but Yale never felt any pressure. He seemed to be just hovering his hand there, daring himself. Roman said, “I didn’t know Marquette was a priest.” “Wasn’t everyone a priest back then?” “Well.” The sidewalk exploded under them. Or rather, it shattered, glass fragments all around, the concrete still in place, their shoes and feet still there. Yale spun to see a large woman with teased-out hair and a jean jacket—looking back at them, but walking toward the rest-stop doors. Another woman walked quickly ahead of her, laughing. Her friend, maybe, embarrassed by the scene. It was a bottle that had broken at their feet, a root beer bottle, the remnants of the drink foaming up around the glass shards. “You make me ill!” the large woman shouted, and then she ran to catch up to her friend. “Fucking pedophile perverts!” They disappeared inside. Roman took a step back, into the mess. He made his mouth into a small O and blew out slowly. Yale said, “I guess she’s not a fan of historical signs.” He was shaking, but he wanted to make everything okay. He felt responsible, as if by giving Roman that hand job he’d made this all happen, turned Roman noticeably gay. It was ridiculous, he knew. Roman got off the sidewalk and rubbed his shoes on the hardened snow. “She couldn’t even see our faces. All she saw was our backs.” Yale said, “Are you okay? I’m sorry. That—” “It’s not like I haven’t heard it before.” “I mean, it’s Wisconsin.” “Don’t pretend that happened because we crossed the Wisconsin border.” Yale said, “Look, let’s not tell Fiona.” And here she came. —They found Nora looking better than last time, her wheelchair pulled up to the dining table, where she had her shoebox letters laid out in stacks. She stood precariously to hug Fiona, to tell Yale he looked tired. Debra had seen them in, pecked Fiona coldly on the cheek, avoided Yale entirely, and then left to go grocery shopping.
From Christianity: The First Three Thousand Years, Part 4 (300 – 1300, Rome) (2009)
Umar’s first monument with an extraordinary domed structure, now often called the Mosque of Umar – a double error, since it was built neither as a mosque nor by Umar. The function of this ‘Dome of the Rock’ seems originally to have been to mark the victory of Muhammad’s revelation over Christianity, by creating a building which would be as impressive as anything that Christianity had put up – the Caliph would have known the reputation of the Church of Hagia Sophia in Constantinople, then already a century and a half old (see pp. 429–31). The Dome of the Rock bears the earliest datable set of texts from the Qur’an, including the famous rebuke to those who worship the Trinity, and it exhibits the earliest datable use of the word ‘Muslim’. Even though it reversed Christian mistreatment of the Temple, it was probably built by Christian craftsmen, and its architectural forms are derived from those of Byzantium.12 Really this was logical. What the Dome of the Rock proclaimed was the arrival of a new empire which would replace the surviving Christian empire of the Byzantines; the city of Constantinople was now the goal of what seemed an unstoppable programme of conquest. Islam did not succeed in this ultimate aim – yet. In 678, after five years of repeated attacks, the Byzantine Emperor Constantine IV finally repulsed the besiegers, but other Islamic armies pressed on to the furthest coasts of North Africa. From their conquest of Alexandria and all Egypt by 641, they took a half-century of hard fighting to reach the Straits of Gibraltar, but then they went on to seize virtually the entire Iberian peninsula: they were checked in their advance northwards only in central France at a battle near Poitiers in 732 or 733. The two Christian victories at Constantinople and in France between them preserved a Europe in which Christianity remained dominant, and as a result the centre of energy and unfettered development and change in the Christian world decisively shifted west from its old Eastern centres. By contrast, a crushing Islamic victory over Chinese armies in what is now Kyrgyzstan in 751 laid open Central Asia to Islam, bringing eventual ruin to the Church of the East. ISLAM AND THE EAST In the Middle East and around the African shore of the Mediterranean most Christians would now have to live with a new reality: they had lost their position at the centre of society. The new situation was at its most extreme in Arabia itself, where Muslims put into practice what was said to have been one of Muhammad’s deathbed commands and set about eliminating Christianity from the peninsula. After a century or so, there were only a few Christian
From The Second Sex (1949)
The male deposits his sperm; the female receives it. Thus, although she plays a fundamentally active role in procreation, she endures coitus, which alienates her from herself by penetration and internal fertilization; although she feels the sexual need as an individual need—since in heat she might seek out the male—she nevertheless experiences the sexual adventure in its immediacy as an interior story and not in relation to the world and to others. But the fundamental difference between male and female mammals is that in the same quick instant, the sperm, by which the male’s life transcends into another, becomes foreign to it and is separated from its body; thus the male, at the very moment it goes beyond its individuality, encloses itself once again in it. By contrast, the ovum began to separate itself from the female when, ripe, it released itself from the follicle to fall into the oviduct; penetrated by a foreign gamete, it implants itself in the uterus: first violated, the female is then alienated; she carries the fetus in her womb for varying stages of maturation depending on the species: the guinea pig is born almost adult; the dog close to a fetal state; inhabited by another who is nourished by her substance, the female is both herself and other than herself during the whole gestation period; after delivery, she feeds the newborn with milk from her breasts. This makes it difficult to know when it can be considered autonomous: at fertilization, birth, or weaning? It is noteworthy that the more the female becomes a separate individual, the more imperiously the living continuity is affirmed beyond any separation. The fish or the bird that expels the virgin ovum or the fertilized egg is less prey to its offspring than the female mammal. The female mammal recovers her autonomy after the birth of the young: a distance is thus established between her and them; and starting from this separation, she devotes herself to them; she takes care of them, showing initiative and invention; she fights to defend them against other animals and even becomes aggressive. But she does not usually seek to affirm her individuality; she does not oppose either males or females; she does not have a fighting instinct;5 in spite of Darwin’s assertions, disparaged today, the female in general accepts the male that presents himself. It is not that she lacks individual qualities—far from it; in periods when she escapes the servitude of maternity, she can sometimes be the male’s equal: the mare is as quick as the stallion, the female hound has as keen a nose as the male, female monkeys show as much intelligence as males when tested. But this individuality is not asserted: the female abdicates it for the benefit of the species that demands this abdication.
From The Sexual Life of Catherine M. (2001)
I have methodically laid out the markers of a sexual territory within a professional location. Some places lend themselves particularly well, such as a photographic darkroom or those windowless store-rooms in which parcels of newspapers are usually kept. The first is closed off by a blackout curtain. It is so small that you have to stay standing, bathed in cabaret-like light. This light makes the skin look soft as velvet, and this optical impression exacerbates the touch; you only need to brush your hands lightly over each other. Especially as you feel disembodied: the red light makes pale skin almost transparent, and swallows up the darker areas, hair or one’s clothes. In a store-room the most unsettling thing is choosing a place. The area carved up into parallel alleys by the shelving is perfectly uniform, you are no less sheltered from intruders in one alley than another, and you would anyway be seen through the blank spaces between the piles of paper. The net result is that you settle in this place of accumulation as arbitrarily as you would in an empty space, and not before you have turned and looked about you a few times. In this sort of place fellatio was preferable for me as the act that was easiest to interrupt. I think that it was to do with the gloominess of the place. In a wood, on a deserted track, in any sort of public place, there is always a good reason to choose to hide behind this clump of trees or in that doorway, either because it offers the greatest comfort or safety, or because it has some playful or aesthetic quality. But here there was none of that. So your stop here was necessarily brief because you could just as easily move a few metres away, and migrate from place to place. I would add to that the fact that, if we are happy to contemplate being caught in flagrante delicto in a picturesque setting, there would be something almost humiliating about being caught in somewhere as ugly as that.
From Christianity: The First Three Thousand Years, Part 1 (1000 BCE – 100 CE) (2009)
the first of the Roman emperors, with a succession which lasted until 1453. This was the title that mattered: it signified his control of the army, which had traditionally bestowed the honour by acclamation, the real basis for imperial power from now on. The virtually perpetual warfare which so dominated the Roman past meant that the best justification for holding power in the Republic had been a track record of military success: hence the importance of the imperator title. Augustus made sure that his various publicists magnified a personal record as a military commander which was in reality decidedly unimpressive.35 Ordinary people raised few objections to Augustus’s new role as imperator; they had little nostalgia for the Roman Republic, which had done nothing for seven decades but produce misery. As far as they were concerned, the old forms had been a sham anyway, so what difference would it make if Augustus elaborated the pretence through traditional titles and institutions? He paid particular attention to beautifying Rome. Central to various symbols of his achievements was a monumental ‘Altar of Peace’ (Ara pacis) voted him by a grateful (or at least politically realistic) Senate, which can still be admired in Rome, albeit now on a new site chosen by that latter-day failed Augustus, Benito Mussolini. The theme of peace was well chosen: most Romans were more interested in the fact that Augustus brought them peace and prosperity than they were in the Republic. For all that his own military prowess was dubious, Augustus and his successors tore down political frontiers all round the Mediterranean, and by controlling piracy, they made it comparatively safe and easy to travel from one end of the sea to the other. The first great exponent of a worldwide Christianity, the Apostle Paul, made the most of this, and so would the Christian faith as a whole. Without the general peace brought by Roman power, Christianity’s westward spread would have been far more unlikely. Yet the new order of politics was deeply depressing for the battered remains of the old Roman upper classes. They were no more taken in than anyone else by the Emperor’s Republican window-dressing. They had done well out of the old Republic, and they had the sense to see that they could do well out of Augustus’s regime, but they felt the humiliation deeply. Worst of all was the increasing reverence paid to Augustus. He did not actually claim divine honours, but he raised no objection to a system of honours in which offerings and sacrifices were made to his genius, the sacred force or guardian spirit which guided his personality and actions; Roman religion had already accommodated the habit of paying divine honours to such abstractions.36 After Augustus’s death, his successors in any case did declare him a god, and subsequent emperors saw the usefulness of this: the consecration of a predecessor as divine gave the living
From New Testament Words (1964)
In origin the word is Persian; it comes from the noun aggaros, which means a ‘courier’; it became naturalized into Greek, just as the Italian word estafette has been to some extent naturalized into English with the same sense of a ‘military courier’ or an ‘express messenger’. The Persians had a remarkably efficient courier system, like an express post. Herodotus has a description of it (Herodotus 8.98). ‘Nothing travels so fast as these Persian messengers. The entire plan is a Persian invention; and this is the method of it. Along the whole line of road there are men (they say) stationed with horses, in number equal to the number of days which the journey takes, allowing a man and a horse to each day; and these men will not be hindered from accomplishing at their best speed the distance which they have to go, either by snow, or rain, or heat, or by the darkness of the night. The first rider delivers his despatch to the second, and the second passes it to the third; and so it is borne from hand to hand along the whole line, like the light in the torch race…. The Persians give the riding post in this manner the name aggareion.’ Xenophon has an even more vivid description of it (Cyropaedia 8.6.17). He says that Cyrus had to find some way of finding out what was going on in his vast empire. He experimented and found out how far a horse and rider could go in one day without breaking down, and so arranged his stations. At each station there was a permanent official to see to the transference of the letters and to change the horses. Night and day this express service went on. ‘It is undeniable,’ says Xenophon, ‘that this is the fastest overland travelling on earth.’ Aeschylus in the Agamemnon tells how there came to Greece news of the capture of Troy. The chorus will hardly believe Clytaemnestra that word could have come so quickly. She tells how the news was transmitted by torch from Ida to Lemnos, from Athos to Olympus by what she calls ‘the courier fire’ (aggarou puros). Now it was the law that anyone could be compelled to provide a horse or to act as guide to keep this service going. And therefore aggareuein came to mean ‘forcibly to impress some one to service’, to compel him to serve whether he liked it or not. In an occupied country that was a grave and serious thing. Anyone could be impressed to carry the baggage of the army for a certain distance; anyone could be compelled to perform any service that the occupiers chose to lay upon him. That is what happened to Simon of Cyrene. This business of impressment was one of the bitterest and most constant humiliations that subject nations had to endure. Epictetus (4.1.79) is talking about how a man must submit to whatever the gods lay upon him. He may not even desire health, if the gods wish to take it away. ‘You ought to possess your whole body as a paltry ass with a pack-saddle on, as long as may be, as long as it is allowed you. But if there should come an act of impressment (aggareia) and a soldier should lay hold on it, let it go. Do not resist or murmur. If you do, you will first be beaten and lose the ass after all.’ A man had no appeal when this humiliation came upon him.
From History of the Christian Church: The Complete Set of Eight Volumes (1858)
During the two centuries and a half since Hildebrand had entered the city of Rome with Leo IX., popes had been imprisoned by emperors, been banished from Rome by its citizens, had fled for refuge and died in exile, but upon no one of them had a calamity fallen quite so humiliating and complete as the calamity which now befell Boniface. A plot, formed in France to checkmate the pope and to carry him off to a council at Lyons, burst Sept. 7 upon the peaceful population of Anagni, the pope’s country seat. William of Nogaret, professor of law at Montpellier and councillor of the king, was the manager of the plot and was probably its inventor. According to the chronicler, Villani,23 Nogaret’s parents were Cathari, and suffered for heresy in the flames in Southern France. He stood as a representative of a new class of men, laymen, who were able to compete in culture with the best-trained ecclesiastics, and advocated the independence of the state. With him was joined Sciarra Colonna, who, with other members of his family, had found refuge in France, and was thirsting for revenge for their proscription by the pope. With a small body of mercenaries, 300 of them on horse, they suddenly appeared in Anagni. The barons of the Latium, embittered by the rise of the Gaetani family upon their losses, joined with the conspirators, as also did the people of Anagni. The palaces of two of Boniface’s nephews and several of the cardinals were stormed and seized by Sciarra Colonna, who then offered the pope life on the three conditions that the Colonna be restored, Boniface resign, and that he place himself in the hands of the conspirators. The conditions were rejected, and after a delay of three hours, the work of assault and destruction was renewed. The palaces one after another yielded, and the papal residence itself was taken and entered. The supreme pontiff, according to the description of Villani,24 received the besiegers in high pontifical robes, seated on a throne, with a crown on his head and a crucifix and the keys in his hand. He proudly rebuked the intruders, and declared his readiness to die for Christ and his Church. To the demand that he resign the papal office, he replied, "Never; I am pope and as pope I will die." Sciarra was about to kill him, when he was intercepted by Nogaret’s arm. The palaces were looted and the cathedral burnt, and its relics, if not destroyed, went to swell the booty. One of the relics, a vase said to have contained milk from Mary’s breasts, was turned over and broken. The pope and his nephews were held in confinement for three days, the captors being undecided whether to carry Boniface away to Lyons, set him at liberty, or put him to death. Such was the humiliating counterpart to the proud display made at the pope’s coronation nine years before!
From White Trash: The 400-Year Untold History of Class in America (2016)
emotionally stunted poor white men and recognize that everyday burdens fall more heavily on their women. 13 In Allison’s Bastard Out of Carolina, young Anne “Bone” Boatwright endures physical and sexual abuse at the hands of her mother’s second husband, Daddy Glen Waddell. In the town of Greenville, South Carolina, as it is for the Beans of Egypt, Maine, the Boatwrights are despised. Daddy Glen’s festering hatred of Bone comes from deeply lodged feelings of humiliation. He comes from a middle-class family, and he is the one member who never amounted to anything. He is a manual laborer and longs for a home like those of his brothers, one a dentist, the other a lawyer. “Nothing I do goes right,” he grouses. “I put my hand in the honey jar and it comes out shit.” He is jealous of Earle Boatwright’s prowess with women too. Unlike the Beans, though, the Boatwright men tend to be affectionate and protective of the women and children in their extended family. 14 Allison is fascinated by the thin line that separates the stepfather’s family from the mother’s; they might have more money, but they’re shallow and cruel. Her cousins whisper that their car is like “nigger trash.” Like Chute’s Pomerleaus, they feel compelled to snub those below them. It is shame that keeps the class system in place. 15 By the end of the novel, Bone frees herself from Glen, and in the process loses out to him when her psychically damaged mother decides to abandon the family and take off for California with him. In running away, her mother repeats the strategy of crackers a century earlier: to flee and start over somewhere else. Ruminating on her mother’s life—pregnant at fifteen, wed then widowed at seventeen, and married a second time to Glen by twenty-one—Bone wonders whether she herself is equipped to make more sensible decisions. She won’t condemn her mother, because she doesn’t know for certain that she will be able to avoid some of the same mistakes. 16 The lesson here is that the choices people make are both class- and gender- charged. Allison’s story serves as a reminder that many more people—women especially—remain trapped in the poverty into which they are born; it is the exception who becomes, like the author Allison, a successful person capable of understanding the poor without condemning. The American dream is double- edged in that those who are able to carve out their own destiny are also hard- pressed not to condemn those who get stuck between the cracks. As it is with the character Scout in To Kill a Mockingbird, an awareness of the routine nature of injustice is most forcefully depicted when it is seen through the eyes of a child.
From History of the Christian Church: The Complete Set of Eight Volumes (1858)
In its application in Spain it was customary to attach weights to the feet and to suspend the body in such a manner that the toes alone touched the ground, and the Spanish rule required that the body be raised and lowered leisurely so as to increase the pain. The final penalties for heresy included, in addition to the spiritual impositions of fasting and pilgrimage, confiscation of goods, imprisonment, public scourging, the galleys, exile and death. Confiscation and burning extended to the dead, against whom the charge of heresy could be made out. At Toledo, July 25, 1485, more than 400 dead were burnt in effigy. Frequently at the autos no living victims suffered. In cases of the dead their names were effaced from their tombstones, that "no memory of them should remain on the face of the earth except as recorded in our sentence." Their male descendants, including the grandchildren, were incapacitated from occupying benefices and public positions, from riding on horseback, carrying weapons and wearing silk or ornaments. The penalty of scourging was executed in public on the bodies of the victims, bared to the waist, by the public executioner. Women of 86 to girls of 13 were subjected to such treatment. Galley labor as a mode of punishment was sanctioned by Alexander VI., 1503. The sentence of perpetual imprisonment was often relaxed, either from considerations of mercy or for financial reasons. Up to 1488, there had been 5000 condemnations to lasting imprisonment.978 The saco bendito, or sanbenito, another characteristic feature of the Spanish Inquisition, was a jacket of gray or yellow texture, furnished before and behind with a large cross as prescribed by Torquemada. This galling humiliation was aggravated by the rule that, after they were laid aside, the sanbenitos should be hung up in the churches, together with a record of the wearer’s name inscribed and his sentence. To avoid the shame of this public display, descendants often sought to change their names, a practice the law soon checked. The precedent for the sanbenito was found in the covering our first parents wore to hide their nakedness, or in the sackcloth worn in the early Church as a mark of penance. The auto de fe, the final act in the procedure of the Inquisition, shows the relentlessness of this tribunal, and gave the spectators a foretaste of the solemnities of the day of judgment. There heretics, after being tried by the inquisitorial court, were exposed to public view,979 and received the first official notice of their sentence. The ceremonial took place on the public squares, where platforms and staging were erected at municipal expense, and such occasions were treated as public holidays. On the day appointed, the prisoners marched in procession, led by Dominicans and others bearing green and white crosses, and followed by the officials of the Holy Office. Arrived at the square, they were assigned seats on benches.
From History of the Christian Church: The Complete Set of Eight Volumes (1858)
He thus gave them the papal sanction; yet he must have known that a large portion of this forged collection, though claiming to proceed from early popes, did not exist in the papal archives. Hincmar protested against the validity of the new decretals and their application to France, and the protest lingered for centuries in the Gallican liberties till they were finally buried in the papal absolutism of the Vatican Council of 1870. § 62. Hadrian II. and John VIII A.D. 867 to 882. Mansi: Conc. Tom. XV.–XVII. Migne: Patrol. Lat. Tom. CXXII. 1245 sqq. (Hadrian II.); Tom. CXXVI. 647 sqq. (John VIII.); also Tom. CXXIX., pp. 823 sqq., and 1054 sqq., which contain the writings of Auxilius and Vulgarius, concerning pope Formosus. Baronius: Annal. ad ann. 867–882. Jaffé: Regesta, pp. 254–292. Milman: Lat. Christianity, Book V., chs.5 and 6. Gfrörer: Allg. Kirchengesch., Bd. III. Abth. 2, pp. 962 sqq. Baxmann: Politik der Päpste, II. 29–57. For nearly two hundred years, from Nicolas to Hildebrand (867–1049), the papal chair was filled, with very few exceptions, by ordinary and even unworthy occupants. Hadrian II. (867–872) and John VIII. (872–882) defended the papal power with the same zeal as Nicolas, but with less ability, dignity, and success, and not so much in the interests of morality as for self-aggrandizement. They interfered with the political quarrels of the Carolingians, and claimed the right of disposing royal and imperial crowns. Hadrian was already seventy-five years of age, and well known for great benevolence, when he ascended the throne (he was born in 792). He inherited from Nicolas the controversies with Photius, Lothair, and Hincmar of Rheims, but was repeatedly rebuffed. He suffered also a personal humiliation on account of a curious domestic tragedy. He had been previously married, and his wife (Stephania) was still living at the time of his elevation. Eleutherius, a son of bishop Arsenius (the legate of Nicolas), carried away the pope’s daughter (an old maid of forty years, who was engaged to another man), fled to the emperor Louis, and, when threatened with punishment, murdered both the pope’s wife and daughter. He was condemned to death. This affair might have warned the popes to have nothing to do with women; but it was succeeded by worse scenes. John VIII. was an energetic, shrewd, passionate, and intriguing prelate, meddled with all the affairs of Christendom from Bulgaria to France and Spain, crowned two insignificant Carolingian emperors (Charles the Bald, 875, and Charles the Fat, 881), dealt very freely in anathemas, was much disturbed by the invasion of the Saracens, and is said to have been killed by a relative who coveted the papal crown and treasure.
From The Second Sex (1949)
Adler departed from Freud because he understood the inadequacies of a system that bases the development of human life on sexuality alone: he means to reintegrate sexuality into the total personality; while for Freud all behavior is driven by desire, that is, by seeking pleasure, Adler sees man as aiming at certain goals; he replaces drives with motives, finality, and plans; he raises intelligence to such heights that for him sexuality often has only symbolic value. According to his theories, the human drama is divided into three steps: each individual has a will to power but along with it an inferiority complex; this conflict leads him to use countless ruses rather than confront real-life obstacles that he fears may be insurmountable; the subject establishes a distance between himself and the society he fears: thus develop neuroses that are disturbances of the social sense. As for woman, her inferiority complex manifests itself in a rejection out of shame of her femininity: it is not the absence of a penis that unleashes this complex but the total situation; the girl envies the phallus only as a symbol of the privileges granted to boys; the father’s place in the family, the universal predominance of males, and upbringing all confirm her idea of masculine superiority. Later, in the course of sexual relations, even the coital posture that places the woman underneath the man is an added humiliation. She reacts by a “masculine protest”; she either tries to masculinize herself or uses her feminine wiles to go into battle against man. Through motherhood she can find in her child the equivalent of the penis. But this supposes that she must first accept herself completely as woman, and thus accept her inferiority. She is far more deeply divided against herself than is man.
From The New Testament (Great Courses) (1997)
Some scholars go even further, and maintain that more than two letters are embodied here, based on the uneven flow of Paul's argument throughout chapters 1-9 (see box 19.3). The History of Paul's Relationship with the Community We can map out the history of Paul's interaction with the Corinthians in terms of a sequence of vis- its and letters. There is, of course, a good deal of information that we do not have; but what we do have, including the bits and pieces that come from 1 Corinthians, falls out along the following lines. 2,82 THE NEw TEST,,'ENT: A HSTOC,,.. INTRODUCTION Paul's First Visit. This was when Paul and Silvanus and mothy first arrived in Corinth, set up shop, preached the gospel, won a number of converts, and provided them with some rudimen- tary instruction before leaving for other areas ripe for mission (2 Cor 1:19). Paul's First Letter. Paul evidently wrote a letter to the Corinthians that has been lost. He refers to it in 1 Corinthians 5.9. It appears to have dealt, at least in part, with ethical issues that had arisen in the community. The Corinthians' First Letter to Paul. Some of the Corinthians, either in response to Paul's first letter or independently of it, wrote Paul to inquire further about ethical matters, for example, about whether Christians should have sex with their spouses ( 1 Cor 7:1 ). Paul's Second Letter: 1 Corinthians. In response to the Corinthians' queries and in reaction to information that he received from "Chloe's peo- ple," Paul wrote 1 Corinthians from Ephesus. In it he announced his plans to travel through Macedonia south to Corinth, where he hoped to spend the winter (1 Cor 16:5-7). He apparently sent the letter back with Stephanas and his two companions, who were members of the Corinthian church ( 1 Cor 16:15-17). Paul's Second Visit. In 2 Cor 2:1-4 Paul indicates that he does not want to make "another" painful visit; this suggests that his most recent visit had been painful. It appears, then, that after the writ- ing of 1 Corinthians, Paul fulfilled his promise to come to Corinth for a second time. But he was not well received. Someone in the congregation did something to cause him pain and possibly public humiliation (2 Cor 2:5-11). He left, uttering dire threats that he would return in judgment against them (2 Cor 13:2). The Arrival of the Superapostles. Either prior to Paul's departure or soon thereafter, other apostles of Christ arrived in town, claiming to be true spokespersons of the gospel.
From The New Testament (Great Courses) (1997)
After hearing the good news from Titus, Paul wrote a friendly letter to express his pleasure at the Corinthians' change of heart (2 Cor 2:5-11; 7:5-16). He also wanted to explain why he had not come for another visit, to 284 THE NEW TEST/W4ENT: A HSTOC, INTRODUCTION assure them that he was not simply being fickle in making and revising his plans (1:15-2:4). Part of this letter (without, at least, its closing) is found in 2 Corinthians 1-9, or possibly only chapters 1-7, since some scholars think that chapters 8-9 are part of another letter, or possibly even two letters (see box 19.3). The Overarching Points of the Letter After someone edited the two (or three or four or five) letters into the one book that we call 2 Corinthians, we lose sight of Paul's relationship with this congregation. Thus, we can never know whether all the problems were solved, or whether any more stormy incidents occurred. Nor can we determine whether the Corinthians decided to adopt Paul's point of view and reject the perspec- tives brought in by others from the outside. Clearly, though, the basic message that Paul tried to convey in 1 Corinthians is very much in evidence in the collection of letters we are investi- gating here. Consider first the fragment of the painful letter (chaps. 10-13), written in part to address the claims of superiority made by the super- apostles. Rather than simply attacking them on their own terms, for example, by arguing that he could do better miracles than they, Paul dismisses their very grounds for considering themselves apos- tles. This is reminiscent of the way he treated the leaders of the divisive factions in 1 Corinthians 1-4, where he denies that earthly wisdom and power are signs of the divine. For him, the creden- tials of an apostle are not the glorious acts that he or she can perform, as if this were an age of exalta- tion and splendor. The true apostle will suffer, much as Christ suffered. For the end has not yet come, and those who rely on spectacular acts of power in this age must be suspected of collusion with the cos- mic forces that are in charge of this age, namely, Satan and his vile servants ( 11:12-15). This is why Paul goes to such lengths to "boast in his weaknesses" in this letter (12:5), principally by detailing all the ways that he has suffered as Christ's apostle (11:17-33). It may not seem like much to boast about being beaten up regularly, living in constant danger and in fear for one's life--but for Paul these are signs that he is the true apostle of Christ, who himself suffered the ignominious fate of crucifixion.
From Christianity: The First Three Thousand Years, Part 2 (4 BCE – 451 CE) (2009)
force) to the Jewish crowds, who in his narrative roared out, ‘His blood be on us, and on our children!’45 The Christian Church has drawn much out of Matthew’s literary decision. It would have been better for the moral health of Christianity if the blame had stayed with Pilate. If that lingering and humiliating death on the Cross had been the end of the story, then the tale of Jesus would have remained embedded in Judaism. Jesus might have made it into the history books, even inspired a new departure in Jewish faith, but there would have been little likelihood of a separated or wider religion. Jesus’s public ministry had been to Jews; otherwise he made some forays into the territory of their despised cousins the Samaritans and Mark and Matthew once record him straying out of this Judaic world, into ‘the region of Tyre and Sidon’, where he met his match in wit with a Greek-speaking ‘Canaanite’ woman desperate for him to cure her mentally disturbed daughter.46 Jesus spoke Aramaic as his first language. As the encounter with the Canaanite woman seems to indicate, and is in any case to be expected, he could speak marketplace Greek when he needed to, but that knowledge has left no trace even where one might expect it, in the filtered versions of his story in the Greek New Testament. Jesus left no writings – in fact the only record of his writing is of some doodles in the dirt as a diversion in a tricky situation, and we have no idea what might have been read in them on that day which saved the life of a woman taken in adultery.47 What the Gospels tell us happened after the Crucifixion was the ultimate good news: Jesus came back to human life after three days in the tomb. Somehow a criminal’s death and defeat on the Cross, ‘Good Friday’, as Christians came to call it, were transformed by his followers into a triumph of life over death, and the Passion narratives ended with the story of Easter Resurrection. This Resurrection is not a matter which historians can authenticate; it is a different sort of truth, or statement about truth. It is the most troubling, difficult affirmation in Christianity, but over twenty centuries Christians have thought it central to their faith. Easter is the earliest Christian festival, and it was for its celebration that the Passion narratives were created by the first Christians. Belief in the truth of the Resurrection story and in Jesus’s power to overcome death has made Christians act over twenty centuries in the most heroic, joyful, beautiful and terrible ways. And the fact that Christianity’s Jesus is the resurrected Christ makes a vital point about the misfit between the Jesus whose teachings we have excavated and the Church which came after him. It mattered much less to the first Christ-followers after the Resurrection what Jesus had said than what he did and was doing now, and who he was (or whom people thought him to be). And as he emerged in the first Christian writings, they now thought
From History of the Christian Church: The Complete Set of Eight Volumes (1858)
He lays, however, no great stress on the outer sensible miracles, and makes more account of the inner moral miracles and the constant manifestations of the power of the Holy Spirit in regenerating and sanctifying sinful men in an utterly corrupt state of society. 1 Cor. 12 to 14; 6:9–11; Gal. 5:16–26; Rom. 6 and 8. 5. The existence of much earnest controversy in these young churches, not indeed about the great facts on which their faith was based, and which were fully admitted on both sides, but about doctrinal and ritual inferences from these facts, especially the question of the continued obligation of circumcision and the Mosaic law, and the personal question of the apostolic authority of Paul. The Judaizers maintained the superior claims of the older apostles and charged him with a radical departure from the venerable religion of their fathers; while Paul used against them the argument that the expiatory death of Christ and his resurrection were needless and useless if justification came from the law. Gal. 2:21; 5:2–4. 6. The essential doctrinal and spiritual harmony of Paul with the elder apostles, notwithstanding their differences of standpoint and field of labor. Here the testimony of the Epistle to the Galatians 2:1–10, which is the very bulwark of the skeptical school, bears strongly against it. For Paul expressly states that the, "pillar"-apostles of the circumcision, James, Peter, and John, at the conference in Jerusalem A.D. 50, approved the gospel he had been preaching during the preceding fourteen years; that they "imparted nothing" to him, gave him no new instruction, imposed on him no now terms, nor burden of any kind, but that, on the contrary, they recognized the grace of God in him and his special mission to the Gentiles, and gave him and Barnabas "the right hands of fellowship" in token of their brotherhood and fidelity. He makes a clear and sharp distinction between the apostles and "the false brethren privily brought in, who came to spy out our liberty which we have in Christ Jesus, that they might bring us into bondage," and to whom he would not yield, "no, not for an hour." The hardest words he has for the Jewish apostles are epithets of honor; he calls them, the pillars of the church, "the men in high repute" (oiJ stu'loi, oiJ dokou'nte", Gal. 2:6, 9); while he considered himself in sincere humility "the least of the apostles," because he persecuted the church of God (1 Cor. 15:9). This statement of Paul makes it simply impossible and absurd to suppose (with Baur, Schwegler, Zeller, and Renan) that John should have so contradicted and stultified himself as to attack, in the Apocalypse, the same Paul whom he had recognized as a brother during his life, as a false apostle and chief of the synagogue of Satan after his death. Such a reckless and monstrous assertion turns either Paul or John into a liar.
From The Work of Theology (2015)
On the confiscation and return of the estates to widows of the rebels, see Washburn, The Governor and the Rebel, 141–42; and Wilcomb E. Washburn, “The Humble Petition of Sarah Drummond,” William and Mary Quarterly 13, no. 13 (July 1956): 354–75, esp. 356, 358, 363–64, 367, 371. Lyon G. Tylor, “Maj. Edmund Chisman,” William and Mary Quarterly 1, no. 2 (October 1892): 89–98, esp. 90–91, 94–97; Susan Westbury, “Women in Bacon’s Rebellion,” in Southern Women: Histories and Identities, eds. Virginia Bernhard, Betty Brandon, Elizabeth Fox-Genovese, and Theda Perdu (Columbia: University of Missouri Press, 1992), 30–46, esp. 39–42. 70 . Webb, 1676, 102, 132–63. 71 . See Behn, The Widow Ranter, 3, 12, 42, 45, 48; Jenny Hale Pulsipher, “‘The Widow Ranter’ and Royalist Culture in Colonial Virginia,” Early American Literature 39, no. 1 (2004): 41–66, esp. 53–55; and Snyder, Brabbling Women, 11–12, 117, 122–23. 72 . Jane D. Carson, “Frances Culpeper Berkeley,” in Notable American Women , 1607–1950, ed. Edward James et al., 3 vols. (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1971), 1:135–36; Snyder, Brabbling Women, 19–25. 73 . Kathleen M. Brown, Good Wives, Nasty Wenches, and Anxious Patriarchs: Gender, Race, and Power in Colonial Virginia (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1996), 129–33; Tomlins, Freedom Bound, 455, 457–58. 74 . Morgan, Laboring Women, 77–83; Anderson, “Animals into the Wilderness,” 403. 75 . For the quotation see Francis Bacon, The Two Books of Francis Bacon, of the Proficience and Advancement of Learning, Divine and Human (London, 1808), 72; for a different interpretation of this quotation, see Parrish, “The Female Opossum and the Nature of the New World,” 489. 76 . Turk McClesky, “Rich Land, Poor Prospects: Real Estate and the Formation of a Social Elite in Augusta County, Virginia, 1738–1770,” Virginia Magazine of History and Biography 98, no. 3 (July 1990): 449–86; John Combs, “The Phases of Conversion: A New Chronology for the Rise of Slavery in Virginia,” William and Mary Quarterly 68, no. 3 (July 2011): 332–60; Emory G. Evans, A “Topping People”: The Rise and Decline of Virginia’s Old Political Elite, 1680–1790 (Charlottesville: University of Virginia Press, 2009), 1–30. Chapter Two: John Locke’s Lubberland: The Settlements of Carolina and Georgia 1 . On the words Jefferson borrowed from Locke, see John Locke, Two Treatises of Government, ed. Peter Laslett (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1988), 523, 415. For the idea that Locke should be read by everyone, men, women, and children, see advertisement for Locke’s Second Treatise on Government, in Massachusetts Evening Gazette, March 4, 1774; also see Boston Evening Gazette, October 19, 1772; and New London Gazette, October 9, 1767. Locke’s major critic (and of his “disciples”) was Welsh clergyman Josiah Tucker; see Josiah Tucker, A Series of Answers to Certain Popular Objections, Against Separating from the Rebellious Colonies, and Discarding Them Entirely; Being the Concluding Tract of the Dean of Gloucester, on the Subject of American Affairs (Gloucester, UK, 1776), in Four Tracts on Political and Commercial Subjects (Gloucester, 1776; reprint ed., New York, 1975), 21–22, 102–3.
From A Hebrew and English Lexicon of the Old Testament (BDB) (1907)
3t.; 3 fs. VID Ju 3°; 2ms. VID 2 K 22” 2 ES ; 3 mpl. ‘IBN 2Ch +*ל 5 6; W325) 1 Ch ; Inf. 9139 2°Ch33™; sf הנעו 2 Ch 12’ 3) on 2. reflex. humble oneself ‘Ly 264 (A; i subj. pa), 2 Ch 7 1297735 401 32% 33° before some one, ep) 2 Ch 347; ‘Bb 1K PF od 2 Ch33!233.47 362: 2B 1K 21” 2K 22", 2. pass. be humbled, subdued 1 ₪ 7™ 1 Ch 20% 2 Ch 13") aq, ְפָנִי pers. מַפָּנִי ;8% גו Ju 11%; under some one תחת Ju3* ו 106%, Hiph. Pf. 3 ms. yD) 2 Ch 28”; rs.HYI3 ד Ch17”; Impf. 3 ויכָנַע Tug? 1075 sf. DY": Dto*+ 2+.; 2 תָכְנִיע Is 25°; וַתִכְנַע Neo”; 1s. אכְנִיעַ 81% Ime. הַכְנִיעָהוּ Jb 40”;—1. humble 2 Ch 29) Tb 40” y 107” (obj. 3), Is 25° (obj. שאון זָרִים 2. subdue enemies 2§ 8'=1 Ch 18,1 Ch ry Wy 81; sq. "BD Dt 9? Ju 4” א / [בַּנְעַהז n.f. bundle, pack (cf. Ar. sense of Vv, spr.) ; ;--86. JNYID PIS “BOX Je rol! 5 thy | bundle (and take it) out of the la dh, 1. WD, n.pr.m. et terr. Canaan (6 Xavaav, Ph. 199 = Phoenicia; 5 Svo=5; Heil - taeus, v. 111116 15 &' a]; Eoypt. Ka-n--na ור ster 1 Europa, tet ‘Ata Kinahna, Kinahhi, etc., Berl BM Tablets, 150 Wx] TAS etym. dub. GFM PAOS Oct. 1890, Ixvii "ש v. also GASm Geogr. 4 f. Buhl S22": se +1. as IL.pr. 0 son of Ham Gn "37 "סז (as ancestor of Canaanites and Phoenicians; all J); ro® (P); 1 Ch 1® 5 (fr. Gnimopey: 2. a. land, W. of Jordan, into wh. Hebrews came, and where they settled, subduing the inhabitants; {Y33 230 Jus, ’9 מלך Ju 42; hence מִלָבוּת כ כ' ;"135 ש ‘av Ex "מז (song מ:ג ₪ 2 מלְחָמות Ju 3'; עִצִבִּי כ' y 106* 40078 of Ca- naan, 1.e. of the former inhabitants: 3 esp. 75 Ors, 75 אַרְצָה Gn 448 46% שה ₪ / (all 0 5 ו 4 Jos 243 (all ₪ Gn ינז 12** 13” (opp. 1330 עָרִי yb), 16* 17 (all P)+ 40 t. 2, Ju2r” 1 Ch 16% = 1 = also הָאָרֶץ כ' Nu 34? (P); 1 daughters of Canaan = women of the land, so v®8 36? (all P); בנען is personif. Ho 12° = apostate Israel; ‘2 NBY Is19*%=the Hebre lang. (without evil implication). b. the coa 1; of. OWE PIS כ' Zp esp. Phoenicia Is 23"; n.[m.] merchant(s) (becau כ Pao esp. Phoenicians, were traders) ; Hz 16” (om. GBal. אָרֶץ כ' py-bs Zp1; כָּנען-- Co), 17* a land of merchants; cf. 3y32 ad fim 1
From Christianity and the Social Crisis (1907)
The rest of us may be sympathetic onlookers and helpers, but to them it is a question of life and death. Every great movement which so profoundly stirs men, unlocks the depths of their religious nature, just as great experiences in our personal life make the individual susceptible to religious emotion. When the chaotic mass of humanity stirs to the throb of a new creative day, it always feels the spirit of God hovering over it. The large hope which then beckons men, the ideal of justice and humanity which inspires them, the devotion and self-sacrifice to the cause which they exhibit—these are in truth religious. As long as the people are still patriotic and religious, their first impulse is to march under the banner of their inherited religion, sure that it must be on their side. When the German peasants in 1525 set forth their simple and just demands in the celebrated “Twelve Articles,” they based them all on the Bible and offered to surrender any demand which should be proved out of harmony with God’s word. Thus again the people of St. Petersburg on January 22, 1905, moved to the Winter Palace to present their petition to “the Little Father,” led by a priest in the vestments of religion, and bearing before them the portrait of the Czar and the cross of Christ. In both cases the response to their petition was a massacre. It is humiliating to say that the confidence with which the people at the beginning of such risings have turned to their religion for moral backing has not been justified in the past. Luther had scant sympathy with the peasants at the outset, and as soon as they used force against the castles of the barons and the monasteries, he called for forcible repression in the most violent language. The pope, too, wrote a congratulatory letter to those who had been most active in repressing the movement. The state Church in Russia is certainly not on the side of the revolution, though many of her priests may be. The churches in Europe were almost universally hostile to the French Revolution. When the people find their aspirations opposed and repudiated by their churches, they turn away chilled or angry. It is then a question whether the discipline of the Church is sufficiently strong to turn the people back from the popular movement and retain them in obedience to the Church. That is the problem which the Roman Catholic Church is now confronting in its opposition to socialism. It is trying to quarantine the Catholic workingmen in organizations of their own and to keep them immune from the bacillus of socialism. It is far fitter for such paternal repression than the Protestant churches, but its ultimate success is dubious. The mass of the people are more likely to sweep on and away from churchly religion.