Shame

Passages

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

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

  Evan, Emily’s husband, spoke up, “Well, my story is a little different. Emily had to force me to get help. I was about to lose everything—my wife, my kids, my future—if I didn’t do something. She reached her limit of my emotional distance and checked my internet history to see what I was looking at. I blamed her for our sexual problems, when, truth be told, I was the one avoiding her, because I felt guilty for what I was doing behind her back. It wasn’t until I went and saw a therapist that I started to unpack my story. It’s still hard to talk about.” “Do you want to tell us more?” Olivia invited. “Yeah, it’s good practice, and what I have noticed is the more I tell it, the less shame I feel about it. So, I had an older cousin and he introduced me to porn and then wanted me to do some of the stuff to him we saw. It was exciting, but also revolting, so sex got really confusing for me. This went on for three years. Even with Emily, I wanted her, but I also felt anxious about getting that close to her. “After what happened with my cousin, I just started to shut down and not let people get too close to me. Porn felt okay, because it met my need for sex without letting another human in. Since I started seeing a therapist, I have worked through the sexual abuse with my cousin and I am working on learning how to let Em in. It is a journey and I hope she will stay with me long enough for us to see if we can form a secure attachment to each other. I don’t blame her for being angry with me. She has put up with a lot.” You could see Emily soften as she reached over and took Evan’s hand. “Emily, what are you experiencing right now?” Olivia wondered. “Hearing Evan’s story gives me empathy for him—something I had lost. I feel closer to him, because he is letting me in and telling me his story,” she said. Evan replied, “Yeah, it’s the weirdest thing. I thought if she knew the real me she would run like crazy to get away from me. Instead, telling her my story has created a bond we have never experienced.” “Is anybody identifying with Evan and Emily?” Yeses could be heard and people could be seen in the room connecting to their story. “Isn’t it true, emotional vulnerability builds an emotional connection? Telling our stories helps connect us to ourselves, God, and others, and it builds shame resiliency. In other words, shame loses much of its power when we share our experiences.” HEALING IN PROCESS

• From What Belongs to You (2016)

  I grew up at the height of the AIDS panic, when desire and disease seemed essentially bound together, the relationship between them not something that could be managed but absolute and unchangeable, a consequence and its cause. Disease was the only story anyone ever told about men like me where I was from, and it flattened my life to a morality tale, in which I could be either chaste or condemned. Maybe that’s why, when I finally did have sex, it wasn’t so much pleasure I sought as the exhilaration of setting aside restraint, of pretending not to be afraid, a thrill of release so intense it was almost suicidal. As I sat flipping through brochures, waiting for someone to collect and usher me elsewhere, I remembered the first time I was tested, in my last year of high school, at a free clinic in Michigan. I had left my hometown two years before, and in that time news had reached me of friends falling ill. I knew I must have been exposed to it, I had been extravagantly reckless; and as I waited for the nurse to call my name, two weeks after the test, I was sure of the news she would bring. My best friend was beside me, and I held his hand as the woman read me the results and I felt not relief, exactly, but disappointment, or something so bewilderingly mixed I still have no good name for it. Maybe it was just that I wanted the world to have a meaning, and that the meaning I wanted it to have was chastisement. For the first time since I had arrived, the clinic door opened, and the nurse I had spoken with that morning came in. She was moving slowly, holding between two fingers of one hand a thin plastic cup of coffee, the bottom sagging, distended with heat. Hello, she said in her strange accent, are you here for your results, and when I told her that I had been waiting for some time, that I was beginning to feel forgotten, her face darkened in sympathy. Well, she said, let’s see what we can do, and she turned and began speaking quickly to the receptionist. She referred to me as gospodinut , the gentleman, which surprised me; older people here usually call me momcheto , the boy, a friendly term I like more. Come with me, she said, turning, and I followed her to the room she had taken me to before, a strange weightlessness in my abdomen. I’ll be just a moment, she said, wait here, and then she knocked sharply on the laboratory door and opened it without waiting for an answer. She left the door ajar, and I could hear something of the conversation she had, or at least her voice, which was louder than the other and tinged with something like rebuke.

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

  But there was a third factor. Every time we visited the Western Wall, my eyes were drawn upward to the golden Islamic dome on the site formerly occupied by Herod’s temple, which had been destroyed by the Romans. The Dome of the Rock, I was told, was the first major building to be constructed in the Muslim world. Here was another faith that, in its earliest days, had been proud to declare to the world that it was firmly rooted in Judaism. Ahmed and his family took me up to the Dome one Saturday, and I stared at the rock from which the prophet Muhammad was said to have ascended to heaven. It was also the rock on which the prophet Abraham had offered his son to God, Ahmed explained. Again, I felt ashamed of my ignorance. I knew nothing—nothing at all— about any of these traditions. I had had no idea that Muslims venerated Abraham, but now Ahmed told me that the Koran revered all the great prophets of the past, even Jesus. And when we visited the Mosque of al-Aqsa at the southern end of Herod’s huge platform, I felt immediately at home. There were light, space, and silence. A bird flew in from outside: the mosque seemed to be inviting the world to enter, instead of shutting the profane world out. I watched Muslims sitting on the floor, studying the Koran— looking remarkably like the Jews studying Torah in the yeshiva as their lips mouthed the sacred language. This, I realized, was a form of communion. By repeating words that God had in some sense spoken to Muhammad, Muslims were taking the Word of God into their very being. By doing what God had somehow done, they were symbolically positioning themselves in the place where God was.

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

  John and I decided that we would call the series The First Christian. After only a few weeks’ exposure to modern New Testament criticism, I realized that I needed an expert adviser. I was completely unschooled, and in my zeal to expose the truth as I saw it, I could easily make serious mistakes. After some inquiries, John produced Michael Goulder of Birmingham University, a charming and learned scholar who had recently resigned his Anglican orders because he no longer believed in God. John assumed that he would, therefore, be a kindred spirit, but Michael quickly joined the ranks of those who thought that I should not be writing this series, because, he said, I simply did not know enough. And of course, he was quite right. He wrote John a long and extremely scathing letter about me, which John airily cast to one side. Michael was very, very tough. As I produced my draft scripts, he ripped them apart verbally over the telephone, sentence by jejune sentence, line by naïve line, and page by uninformed page. I needed this, and I learned fast. By the end we had become friends, and one of the best moments of the whole project was when Michael viewed the final version of the film and agreed to allow his name to appear alongside mine among the credits, saying that, much to his surprise, he could find no errors of fact. It was a baptism of fire, but I shall always be grateful to Michael for showing me not only how important it was but how rewarding it could be to insist on absolute accuracy in theological matters.

• From Heptaméron (1559)

  There was a queen in France who had in her house- hold several young ladies of good birth, and among the rest one named Rolandine, who was her near relation. But the queen, being displeased with this young lady's father, punished the innocent for the guilty, and behaved not very well to Rolandine. Though this young lady was neither a great beauty nor the reverse, such was the propriety of her demeanour and the sweetness of her disposition, that many great lords sought her in mar- riage, but obtained no reply, for Rolandine's father was so fond of his money that he neglected the establish- ment of his daughter. On the other hand, she was so little in favour of her mistress that she was not wooed by those who wished to ingratiate themselves with the queen. Thus, through the negligence of her father and the disdain of her mistress, this poor young lady remained long unmarried. At last she took this sorely to heart, not so much from eagerness to be married, as from shame at not being so. Her grief reached such a pitch that she forsook the pomp and mundane pursuits of the court to occupy herself only with prayer and some little handiworks. In this tranquil manner she passed her youth, leading the most blameless and devout of lives. When she was approaching her thirtieth year, she became acquainted with a gentleman, a bastard of an nirdday.] QUEEN OF NAVARRE. 1 93

• From Go Tell It on the Mountain (1953)

  Her mother had taught her that the way to pray was to forget everything and everyone but Jesus; to pour out of the heart, like water from a bucket, all evil thoughts, all thoughts of self, all malice for one’s enemies; to come boldly, and yet more humbly than a little child, before the Giver of all good things. Yet, in Florence’s heart to-night hatred and bitterness weighed like granite, pride refused to abdicate from the throne it had held so long. Neither love nor humility had led her to the altar, but only fear. And God did not hear the prayers of the fearful, for the hearts of the fearful held no belief. Such prayers could rise no higher than the lips that uttered them. Around her she heard the saints’ voices, a steady, charged murmur, with now and again the name of Jesus rising above, sometimes like the swift rising of a bird into the air of a sunny day, sometimes like the slow rising of the mist from swamp ground. Was this the way to pray? In the church that she had joined when she first came North one knelt before the altar once only, in the beginning, to ask forgiveness of sins; and this accomplished, one was baptized and became a Christian, to kneel no more thereafter. Even if the Lord should lay some great burden on one’s back—as He had done, but never so heavy a burden as this she carried now—one prayed in silence. It was indecent, the practice of common niggers to cry aloud at the foot of the altar, tears streaming for all the world to see. She had never done it, not even as a girl down home in the church they had gone to in those days. Now perhaps it was too late, and the Lord would suffer her to die in the darkness in which she had lived so long. In the olden days God had healed His children. He had caused the blind to see, the lame to walk, and He had raised dead men from the grave. But Florence remembered one phrase, which now she muttered against the knuckles that bruised her lips: ‘Lord, help my unbelief.’ For the message had come to Florence that had come to Hezekiah: Set thine house in order, for thou shalt die and not live.

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

  JEROME. Many also who are naturally clever and have sharp wit, if they become neglectful, and by disuse spoil that good they have by nature, these do, in comparison of him who being somewhat dull by nature compensates by industry and painstaking his backwardness, lose their natural gift, and see the reward promised them pass away to others. But it may also be understood thus; To him who has faith, and a right will in the Lord, even if he come in aught short in deed as being man, shall be given by the merciful Judge; but he who has not faith, shall lose even the other virtues which he seems to have naturally. And He says carefully, From him that hath not, shall be taken away even that which he seemeth to have, for whatsoever is without faith in Christ ought not to be imputed to him who uses it amiss, but to Him who gives the goods of nature even to a wicked servant. GREGORY. (ubi sup.) Or, Whoso has not charity, loses even those things which he seems to have received. HILARY. And on those who have the privilege of the Gospels, the honour of the Law is also conferred, but from him who has not the faith of Christ is taken away even that honour which seemed to be his through the Law. CHRYSOSTOM. The wicked servant is punished not only by loss of his talent, but by intolerable infliction, and a denunciation in accusation joined therewith. ORIGEN. Into outer darkness, where is no light, perhaps not even physical light; and where God is not seen, but those who are condemned thereto are condemned as unworthy the contemplation of God. We have also read some one before us expounding this of the darkness of that abyss which is outside the world, as though unworthy of the world, they were cast out into that abyss, where is darkness with none to lighten it. GREGORY. (ubi sup.) And thus for punishment he shall be cast into outer darkness who has of his own free will fallen into inward darkness. JEROME. What is weeping and gnashing of teeth we have said above. CHRYSOSTOM. Observe that not only he who robs others, or who works evil, is punished with extreme punishment, but he also who does not good works. GREGORY. (Hom. in Ev. ix. 7.) Let him then who has understanding look that he hold not his peace; let him who has affluence not be dead to mercy; let him who has the art of guiding life communicate its use with his neighbour; and him who has the faculty of eloquence intercede with the rich for the poor. For the very least endowment will be reckoned as a talent entrusted for use.

• From What Belongs to You (2016)

  For a moment, as I let my head fall until my forehead lay next to my arm, before I could feel anything else I was grateful to Mitko. He stayed with me a little longer, wrapping his arms around me more tightly, as if he were holding me in place; and then there was a last pressure of his lips on my neck and he was gone. I left my head resting on the tile, taking deep breaths, feeling my organism settle with a sensation like the clicking of metal as it cools. Without opening my eyes, I pulled on the lever to flush the urinal, then again, and then a third time. I was used to feeling regret in such moments, of course, sometimes I thought it was part of my pleasure, like a bitter taste making a flavor more rich; but I felt something stronger now, I was sick, I was infectious, and children came here, I thought, remembering that locked room as I flushed the urinal again and again. Then I stepped into the stall and unwound a mass of toilet paper, which I wet at the sink and used to wipe down the lever I had just touched, as well as the wall where I had braced myself, though there could be no danger there; and then I began wiping down the porcelain itself, inside and out. I knew the whole performance was excessive, I was wiping surfaces unlikely ever to be touched, but I kept at it as the paper dissolved in my hand. Finally I carried the wet mass to the toilet, and then I stood for some time at the sink, washing my hands. Only then did I let myself think of R., as I looked at myself in the mirror, my face still flushed. He loves you, I said, whispering the words out loud. And then I said it again. I saw that Mitko had cleared the table when I stepped out of the bathroom. Only the paper cup of the milkshake was left, and he leaned over it with his elbows planted on the table, looking at me with his head quizzically cocked. He looked like a child, I thought, as I had so often before. He watched me with a kind of guarded expectancy, as if he knew he hadn’t acted strictly as he should, but thought he had been so charming he could still expect a reward. When he asked me if everything was all right, I said Yes yes, everything was fine.

• From What Belongs to You (2016)

  It had been a long, anxious weekend, and I had hardly needed to exaggerate when I wrote to my department chair that I was too ill to come in, freeing the next day for the clinic. I was caught up again in the poetry of the illness, as it were, that aura or miasma of shame; I felt unclean, I wanted to hide myself away, feeling, for all I had learned of the disease, that even touching someone might contaminate them. I washed my hands compulsively, and made obsessive use of the little bottles of antiseptic gel that most teachers keep close by. I stayed at home as much as I could, and when I had to go out I shied away from any kind of contact, careful not to bump or nudge into people on the street or in the grocery store, which is difficult to avoid here, where there’s such a different idea of personal space. I had been sick before, of course, but this felt like more than sickness, like a physical confirmation of shame. I told R. everything on Friday night. I called him on Skype as soon as I saw him online; I had been waiting for a while, he had been out with friends and got home later than planned. He was still in his street clothes when his image filled my screen, his hair mussed from the hat he had just pulled off. He was already in the middle of a sentence when his voice came through, apologizing for being so late, and it took him a moment to notice that something was wrong. What is it, he said, what happened? I couldn’t bring myself to speak for a minute and then I spoke like a child, I said I have to tell you something, I’m sorry, please don’t get mad. What is it, he said again, a little frightened now, just tell me. And I did, watching his face as I told him about Mitko’s visit and the clinic and what they had said. I didn’t know how he would respond; I thought he would be angry, I was even afraid he might end everything between us. But he only took a somewhat deeper breath and said All right, I’ll get tested, it’s not a big deal, right, the worst case is a shot. Calm down, he said, and I was flooded with gratitude and relief.

• From What Belongs to You (2016)

  Though I can’t remember the season or year or anything that was said, I remember the room, the ornamental bulbs and the tile and the water already running, the mirror obscured with fog; and I remember my father, his body large and bare, the fascination of it and its availability in the small space where, laughing, we wrestled to stay beneath the hot stream of water. I was old enough to wash myself but we still touched each other; he would ask me to wash his back, which was difficult for him to reach, and then he would wash mine in turn. Though he was often severe and sometimes cruel he was gentle with me there; if the soap ran into my eyes he would rinse them, tilting my face up with his hand, a kind of physical care he seldom undertook. We had stepped out of the water onto the tiles, which could be slick, he reminded me each time, Be careful, he said, and then I approached him, not with any specific intent but perhaps not innocently either, I can’t be sure after so many years, as I can no longer recall whether he was facing me or looking away, though he must have been looking away or he would have stopped me or avoided my touch. Or maybe it’s more true to say I was innocent but not without intent, what was it but an intention that drove me, a bodily intention; I wanted to touch him, not with an outcome in mind but with an ache, perhaps not an intention but an ache, which drove me to him and which he felt, too, when I put my arms around him and pressed my body to his and he felt my erection where it touched him. That was the end of care, he thrust me away without a thought for the slickness of the tiles; and when I looked at his face, which was twisted in disgust, it was as if I saw his true face, his authentic face, not the learned face of fatherhood. He covered himself quickly and left the room, saying nothing, but his look entered me and settled there and has never left, it rooted beneath memory and became my understanding of myself, my understanding and expectation. From that day, all the ease we had enjoyed together was gone.

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

  AN ANSWER TO THE ARGUMENTS WHICH ARE BROUGHT FORWARD, TO PROVE THAT THE POWER OF AN ARCHDEACON OR PARISH PRIEST TO RESIGN HIS DUTIES IS NO HINDRANCE TO HIS BEING IN A STATE OF PERFECTIONWE must next point out, that they argue with great inconsistency, who say that archdeacons and parish priests, in spite of their being able to resign their office, are in a state of perfection, equal to that of the episcopate or of the religious life. With regard to this point, it must be remembered, that, whoever leaves a state of perfection for one less perfect, is considered an apostate. Hence St. Paul writes concerning widows,” For when they have grown wanton in Christ they will marry; having damnation, because they have made void their first faith” (1 Tim. 5:11). On these words, the Gloss remarks, “Violation of a vow is damnable. Fidelity to a broken vow is, likewise, damnable. And they are in a state of damnation who make void their first promise of continence, and who, like the wife of Lot, look back; for this is apostasy.” Hence, if archdeacons or parish priests were in a state of perfection, they would, by renouncing the archidiaconates or parishes, put themselves in a state of damnation by becoming apostates. Those who argue against us, maintain, first, that archdeacons and parish priests can embrace the religious life, not because the religious state is more perfect than that in which they have been living, but because it is safer. This, however, is eminently untrue. It is distinctly stated, XIX. quaest. I., that, “such of the clergy as desire to become religious, in order that, thus, they may be able to lead a better life, shall be permitted by their bishops to enter monasteries.” Hence, it is clear, that their desire of embracing the religious state, must be on account of its greater perfection, not by reason of the security which it offers. Archdeacons and parish priests may not only resign their archidiaconates or parishes in order to go into monasteries, but they are free to resign them and stay in the world. This is done by those who become prebendaries of a cathedral. Likewise, if they be not in Holy Orders, they are free to marry. We thus have an incontestable proof, that they are not in a state of perfection.

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

  Firstly, in order of time. Thus, a crime committed by a religious before his conversion may be recalled to the public mind, in order to put him to shame. The words, “Men shall be lovers of themselves” (2 Tim. iii.) are applied to religious. They are accused of coming from a life of crime into a religious order, which their enemies call “creeping into houses.” St. Gregory exposes the falsity of this accusation. Commenting on the words, “Iron is taken out of the earth” (Job xxviii.), he says (18 Moral.): “Iron shall be taken out of the earth when the champion of the Church is delivered from the earthly bonds that have held him captive.” A man ought not to be despised for what he formerly was, after he has begun to lead a new life. St. Paul, after enumerating the vices of the Corinthians, concludes by saying (1 Cor. vi. 11): “Such some of you were, but you are washed, you are sanctified, you are justified.” Hence the interpretation given by the opponents of religious to the text is contrary to the meaning of St. Paul. For the Apostle did not intend to say that those to whom he wrote had led sinful lives, and afterwards begun to creep into houses. Creeping into houses is one of the vices for which he rebukes them.

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

  48. And Jesus answered and said unto them, Are ye come out, as against a thief, with swords and with staves to take me? 49. I was daily with you in the temple teaching, and ye took me not: but the Scriptures must be fulfilled. 50. And they all forsook him, and fled. 51. And there followed him a certain young man, having a linen cloth cast about his naked body; and the young men laid hold on him: 52. And he left the linen cloth, and fled from them naked. BEDE. (ubi sup.) After that our Lord had prayed three times, and had obtained by His prayers that the fear of the Apostles should be amended by future repentance, He, being tranquil as to His Passion, goes to His persecutors, concerning the coming of whom the Evangelist says, And immediately, while he yet spake, cometh Judas Iscariot, one of the twelve. THEOPHYLACT. This is not put without reason, but to the greater conviction of the traitor, since though he was of the chief company amongst the disciples, he turned himself to furious enmity against our Lord. There follows: And with him a great multitude with swords and staves from the Chief Priests and the Scribes and the elders. PSEUDO-JEROME. For he who despairs of help from God, has recourse to the power of the world. BEDE. (ubi sup.) But Judas had still something of the shame of a disciple, for he did not openly betray Him to his persecutors, but by the token of a kiss. Wherefore it goes on: And he that betrayed him had given them a token, saying, Whomsoever I shall kiss, that same is he; take him, and lead him away safely. THEOPHYLACT. See how in his blindness he thought to deceive Christ by the kiss, so as to be looked upon by Him as His friend. But if thou wert a friend, Judas, how didst thou come with His enemies? But wickedness is ever without foresight. It goes on: And as soon as he was come, he goeth straightway to him, and saith, Master, master; and kissed him. PSEUDO-JEROME. Judas gives the kiss as a token, with poisonous guile, just as Cain offered a crafty, reprobate sacrifice. BEDE. (ubi sup.) With envy and with a wicked confidence, he calls Him master, and gives Him a kiss, in betraying Him. But the Lord receives the kiss of the traitor, not to teach us to deceive, but lest he should seem to avoid betrayal, and at the same time to fulfil that Psalm, Among them that are enemies unto peace, I labour for peace. (Ps. 120:5) It goes on: And they laid hands on him, and took him. PSEUDO-JEROME.w This is the Joseph who was sold by his brethren, (Ps. 105:18) and into whose soul the iron entered. There follows: And one of them that stood by drew a sword, and smote a servant of the High Priest, and cut off his ear.

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

  BEDE. Morally too they love darkness rather than light, who when their preachers tell them their duty, assail them with calumny. But he that doeth truth cometh to the light, that his deeds may be made manifest, that they are wrought in God. CHRYSOSTOM. (Hom. xxviii. 3) He does not say this of those who are brought up under the Gospel, but of those who are converted to the true faith from Paganism or Judaism. He shews that no one will leave a false religion for the true faith, till he first resolve to follow a right course of life. AUGUSTINE. (de Pecc. mer. et Remiss. l. i. c. 33) He calls the works of him who comes to the light, wrought in God; meaning that his justification is attributable not to his own merits, but to God’s grace. AUGUSTINE. (Tr. xii. 13, 14) But if God hath discovered all men’s works to be evil, how is it that any have done the truth, and come to the light, i. e. to Christ? Now what He saith is, that they loved darkness rather than light; He lays the stress upon that. Many have loved their sins, many have confessed them. God accuseth thy sins; if thou accuse them too, thou art joined to God. Thou must hate thine own work, and love the work of God in thee. The beginning of good works, is the confession of evil works, and then thou doest the truth: not soothing, not flattering thyself. And thou art come to the light, because this very sin in thee, which displeaseth thee, would not displease thee, did not God shine upon thee, and His truth shew it unto thee. And let those even who have sinned only by word or thought, or who have only exceeded in things allowable, do the truth, by making confession, and come to the light by performing good works. For little sins, if suffered to accumulate, become mortal. Little drops swell the river: little grains of sand become an heap, which presses and weighs down. The sea coming in by little and little, unless it be pumped out, sinks the vessel. And what is to pump out, but by good works, mourning, fasting, giving and forgiving, to provide against our sins overwhelming us? 3:22–2622. After these things came Jesus and his disciples into the land of Judæa; and there he tarried with them, and baptized. 23. And John also was baptizing in Ænon near to Salim, because there was much water there: and they came, and were baptized. 24. For John was not yet cast into prison. 25. Then there arose a question between some of John’s disciples and the Jews about purifying. 26. And they came unto John, and said unto him, Rabbi, he that was with thee beyond Jordan, to whom thou barest witness, behold, the same baptizeth, and all men come to him.

• From The Triumph of Christianity (2018)

  < 102 < Lecture 15  Early Opposition to the Christian Message Clear Animosity ` It is clear, in any event, that the general idea behind the narrative of Acts is right: Christians roused animosity among Jews who rejected their claims. There are two reasons for thinking this is right, even if there is no record from Jews themselves of persecuting Christians in this period. y The fact that Christians became so upset with Jews and lashed out at them for opposing their claims almost certainly shows that Jews did oppose their claims. y More importantly, we have Paul and what he revealed in his own letters. We need to take seriously what Paul explicitly states in his letter to the Galatians. y With some shame, he says that at one point, he was bent on destroying the Church. He does not explain what he means, but his wording suggests physical violence. y Additionally, we know that once Paul became a Christian preacher, he suffered severe corporal punishment from Jewish leaders: Five different times, he received the “forty lashes minus one.” This was apparently a punishment by flogging inflicted in synagogues against troublemaking Jews (2 Corinthians 11:23–25). y In sum, there does appear to have been Jewish opposition to the earliest Christians, and sometimes it turned violent. Pagan Opposition ` Better known than the early Jewish persecutions against Christians is pagan opposition, especially opposition by Roman officials. First, though, it is important to note that Christianity was not seen as threatening in the world at large in the early decades at all. y Even by the end of the 1st century, there were probably only around 7,000–10,000 Christians in an empire of 60 million. y Christianity was not declared illegal at all until the middle of the 3rd century, more than 200 years after Jesus’s death.

• From What Belongs to You (2016)

  My father exhaled again, sharply this time, so that even before he spoke I flinched, and I could see my mother stiffen as she watched me, standing at the sink with a cigarette in her hand. My father spoke in a different tone now, almost with a different voice, the voice of his own childhood, I thought, thick with the dirt he usually worked so hard to conceal. So you like the little boys, that voice said, the voice almost of instinct, the voice of the look he had given me once and of what had once fouled the air. As young as I was, I knew what he said was absurd, I was myself a little boy, what could he be accusing me of, though now I think it was his only understanding of what I could be, the person I was was lost in it. But it didn’t matter that it was absurd, I was already crying, I was a mess of tears, and when my mother started to come toward me I motioned her away, turning my back to her. I was ashamed of my tears, I could hardly breathe, and it was all I could do to say to him But I’m your son, which was my only appeal and the last thing I would say. He made a dismissive sound, almost a laugh, and then he spoke again, with a snarling voice I had never heard before, he said The hell you are. He went on, he spoke without stopping, A faggot, he said, if I had known you would never have been born. You disgust me, he said, do you know that, you disgust me, how could you be my son? As I listened to him say these things it was as though even as I laid claim to myself I found there was nothing to claim, nothing or next to nothing, as though I were dissolving and my tears were the outward sign of that dissolution. He was still speaking, there were still things he wanted to say, but I hung the phone back on the wall, holding it there a moment as if to clutch at something, as my mother crossed the room and put her hand on my back. I laid my head against the wall, hiding my face from her.

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

  AUGUSTINE. (Tr. cxiii) But what wonder, if God foretold truly, man presumed falsely. Respecting this denial of Peter we should remark, that Christ is not only denied by him, who denies that He is Christ, but by him also who denies himself to be a Christian. For the Lord did not say to Peter, Thou shalt deny that thou art My disciple, but, Thou shalt deny Me. (Luke 22:34) He denied Him then, when he denied that he was His disciple. And what was this but to deny that he was a Christian? How many afterwards, even boys and girls, were able to despise death, confess Christ, and enter courageously into the kingdom of heaven; which he who received the keys of the kingdom, was now unable to do? Wherein we see the reason for His saying above, Let these go their way, for of those which Thou hast given Me, have I lost none. If Peter had gone out of this world immediately after denying Christ, He must have been lost. CHRYSOSTOM. (Serm. de Petro et Elia.) Therefore did Divine Providence permit Peter first to fall, in order that he might be less severe to sinners from the remembrance of his own fall. Peter, the teacher and master of the whole world, sinned, and obtained pardon, that judges might thereafter have that rule to go by in dispensing pardon. For this reason I suppose the priesthood was not given to Angels; because, being without sin themselves, they would punish sinners without pity. Passible man is placed over man, in order that remembering his own weakness, he may be merciful to others. THEOPHYLACT. Some however foolishly favour Peter, so far as to say that he denied Christ, because he did not wish to be away from Christ, and he knew, they say, that if he confessed that he was one of Christ’s disciples, he would be separated from Him, and would no longer have the liberty of following and seeing his beloved Lord; and therefore pretended to be one of the servants, that his sad countenance might not be perceived, and so exclude him: And the servants and officers stood there, who had made a fire of coals, and warmed themselves; and Peter stood with them, and warmed himself. AUGUSTINE. (Tr. cxiii) It was not winter, and yet it was cold, as it often is at the vernal equinox. GREGORY. (ii. Mor. c. 11) The fire of love was smothered in Peter’s breast, and he was warming himself before the coals of the persecutors, i. e. with the love of this present life, whereby his weakness was increased. 18:19–2119. The high priest then asked Jesus of his disciples, and of his doctrine. 20. Jesus answered him, I spake openly to the world; I ever taught in the synagogue, and in the temple, whither the Jews always resort; and in secret have I said nothing.

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

  50. And he said to the woman, Thy faith hath saved thee: go in peace. BEDE. Having said just before, And the people that heard him justified God, being baptized with the baptism of John, the same Evangelist builds up in deed what he had proposed in word, namely, wisdom justified by the righteous and the penitent, saying, And one of the Pharisees desired him, &c. GREGORY OF NYSSA. (Hom. de Mul. Peccat.) This account is full of precious instruction. For there are very many who justify themselves, being puffed up with the dreamings of an idle fancy, who before the time of judgment comes, separate themselves as lambs from the herds, not willing even to join in eating with the many, and hardly with those who go not to extremes, but keep the middle path in life. St. Luke, the physician of souls rather than of bodies, represents therefore our Lord and Saviour most mercifully visiting others, as it follows, And he went into the Pharisees’ house, and sat down to meat. Not that He should share any of his faults, but might impart somewhat of His own righteousness. CYRIL OF ALEXANDRIA. A woman of corrupt life, but testifying her faithful affection, comes to Christ, as having power to release her from every fault, and to grant her pardon for the crimes she had committed. For it follows, And behold a woman in the city, which was a sinner, brought an alabaster box of ointment. BEDE. Alabaster is a kind of white marble tinged with various colours, which is generally used for vessels holding ointment, because it is said to be the best sort for preserving the ointment sweet. GREGORY. (in Hom. 33. in Ev.) For this woman, beholding the spots of her shame, ran to wash them at the fountain of mercy, and blushed not at seeing the guests, for since she was courageously ashamed of herself within, she thought there was nothing which could shame her from without. Observe with what sorrow she is wrung who is not ashamed to weep even in the midst of a feast! GREGORY OF NYSSA. (ubi sup.) But to mark her own unworthiness, she stands behind with downcast eyes, and with her hair thrown about embraces His feet, and washing them with her tears, betokened a mind distressed at her state, and imploring pardon. For it follows, And standing behind, she began to wash his feet with her tears.

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

  Objection 2: Further, mortal sin deserves to be punished with death. But in the Law theft is punished not by death but by indemnity, according to Ex. 22:1, “If any man steal an ox or a sheep . . . he shall restore have oxen for one ox, and four sheep for one sheep.” Therefore theft is not a mortal sin. Objection 3: Further, theft can be committed in small even as in great things. But it seems unreasonable for a man to be punished with eternal death for the theft of a small thing such as a needle or a quill. Therefore theft is not a mortal sin. On the contrary, No man is condemned by the Divine judgment save for a mortal sin. Yet a man is condemned for theft, according to Zech. 5:3, “This is the curse that goeth forth over the face of the earth; for every thief shall be judged as is there written.” Therefore theft is a mortal sin. I answer that, As stated above (Q[59], A[4]; [2916]FS, Q[72], A[5]), a mortal sin is one that is contrary to charity as the spiritual life of the soul. Now charity consists principally in the love of God, and secondarily in the love of our neighbor, which is shown in our wishing and doing him well. But theft is a means of doing harm to our neighbor in his belongings; and if men were to rob one another habitually, human society would be undone. Therefore theft, as being opposed to charity, is a mortal sin. Reply to Objection 1: The statement that theft is not a great fault is in view of two cases. First, when a person is led to thieve through necessity. This necessity diminishes or entirely removes sin, as we shall show further on [2917](A[7]). Hence the text continues: “For he stealeth to fill his hungry soul.” Secondly, theft is stated not to be a great fault in comparison with the guilt of adultery, which is punished with death. Hence the text goes on to say of the thief that “if he be taken, he shall restore sevenfold . . . but he that is an adulterer . . . shall destroy his own soul.”

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

  AUGUSTINE. (de Cons. Ev. iii. 16.) It may seem that Luke contradicts this, when he describes one of the robbers as reviling Him, and as therefore rebuked by the other. But we may suppose that Matthew, shortly alluding to the circumstance, has used the plural for the singular, as in the Epistle to the Hebrews we have, Hare stopped the months of lions, (Heb. 11:33.) when Daniel only is spoken of. And what more common way of speaking than for one to say, See the country people insult me, when it is one only who has done so. If indeed Matthew had said that both the thieves had reviled the Lord, there would be some discrepancy; but when he says merely, The thieves, without adding ‘both,’ we must consider it as that common form of speech in which the singular is signified by the plural. JEROME. Or it may be said that at first both reviled Him; but when the sun had withdrawn, the earth was shaken, the rocks were rent, and the darkness increased, one believed on Jesus, and repaired his former denial by a subsequent confession. CHRYSOSTOM. At first both reviled Him, but afterwards not so. For that you should not suppose that the thing was arranged by any collusion, and that the thief was not a thief, he shews you by his wanton reproaches, that even after he was crucified he was a thief and a foe, but was afterwards totally changed. HILARY. That both the thieves cast in His teeth the manner of His Passion, shews that the cross should be an offence to all mankind, even to the faithful. JEROME. Or, in the two thieves both nations, Jews and Gentiles, at first blasphemed the Lord; afterwards the latter terrified by the multitude of signs did penitence, and thus rebukes the Jews, who blaspheme to this day. ORIGEN. The thief who was saved may be a sign of those who after many sins have believed on Christ. 27:45–5045. Now from the sixth hour there was darkness over all the land unto the ninth hour. 46. And about the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice, saying, Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani? that is to say, My God, may God, why hast thou forsaken me? 47. Some of them that stood there, when they heard that, said, This man calleth for Elias. 48. And straightway one of them ran, and took a spunge, and filled it with vinegar, and put it on a reed, and gave him to drink. 49. The rest said, Let be, let us see whether Elias will come to save him. 50. Jesus, when he had cried again with a loud voice, yielded up the ghost. PSEUDO-CHRYSOSTOM. (Pseudo Chrys. in Hom. de Cruce et Latr. ubi sup.) Creation could not bear the outrage offered to the Creator; whence the sun withdrew his beams, that he might not look upon the crime of these impious men.