Tenderness
Tenderness is the hand that doesn't grip — the soft, attentive register the body finds when it is protecting something fragile and choosing not to control it. Vela holds tenderness apart from sentimentality, which is what tenderness looks like when no one is paying attention; tenderness keeps its eyes open.
Working definition · Soft care, protectiveness, or gentle regard toward something fragile.
2890 passages · 9 Vela essays · in 1 cluster
Vela’s read on this emotion
Tenderness is the emotion most likely in this culture to be softened into sentiment — confused with sweetness, with reassurance, with the kind of greeting-card affect that flatters its reader without seeing them. Vela reads tenderness differently.
In the passages Vela returns to, tenderness arrives as attention that does not try to fix what it is attending to. A parent at a child's bedside. A partner holding a small failure without commenting on it. A nurse adjusting a sheet. A witness who stays. The defining gesture is care that does not pretend the fragility isn't there. Trevor Noah in *Born a Crime* writes his mother's tenderness as protection of a child whose very existence was illegal — care as the form love takes when the cost is mortal. Joy Harjo in *Crazy Brave* writes tenderness inside survival — the older self the memoir is becoming holding the younger self the memoir is remembering.
Tenderness is not the same as love, gratitude, or admiration. Love is the sustained orientation that survives the day's weather. Gratitude is the recognition of a gift. Admiration is the approach toward something held above. Tenderness is the somatic register those three share when the beloved becomes fragile — the hand-on-shoulder quality, the lowered voice, the body knowing to be small around a smaller thing.
*On Tenderness* — the slower companion essay in the magazine — tracks the etymology and the difference between tenderness and its sentimental imitator.
Study and magazine
Long-form guide in the magazine
*On Tenderness* — the slower companion essay. The architecture of an emotion most often softened into sentiment; what the word holds in language and what the writers keep saying when the sentimental reading is set aside.
Read the guidePassages
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.
Page 142 of 145 · 20 per page
2890 tagged passages
From The Principles of Psychology (Volume 1 of 2) (1890)
This case may almost be taken as typical for the other cases of self-love. On close examination, we shall almost always find that a great part of our feeling about what is ours is due to the fact that we live closer to our own things, and so feel them more thoroughly and deeply. As a friend of mine was about to marry, he often bored me by the repeated and minute way in which he would discuss the details of his new household arrangements. I wondered that so intellectual a man should be so deeply interested in things of so external a nature. But as I entered, a few years later, the same condition myself, these matters acquired for me an entirely different interest, and it became my turn to turn them over and talk of them unceasingly. . . . The reason was simply this, that in the first instance I understood nothing of these things and their importance for domestic comfort, whilst in the latter case they came home to me with irresistible urgency, and vividly took possession of my fancy. So it is with many a one who mocks at decorations and titles, until he gains one himself. And this is also surely the reason why one's own portrait or reflection in the mirror is so peculiarly interesting a thing to contemplate . . . not on account of any absolute 'c'est moi,' but just as with the music played by ourselves. What greets our eyes is what we know best, most deeply understand; because we ourselves have felt it and lived through it. We know what has ploughed these furrows, deepened these shadows, blanched this hair; and other faces may be handsomer, but none can speak to us or interest us like this." [269] Moreover, this author goes on to show that our own things are fuller for us than those of others because of the memories they awaken and the practical hopes and expectations they arouse. This alone would emphasize them, apart from any value derived from their belonging to ourselves. We may conclude with him, then, that an original central self-feeling can never explain the passionate warmth of our self- regarding emotions, which must, on the contrary, be addressed directly to special things less abstract and empty of content. To these things the name of 'self' may be given, or to our conduct towards them the name of 'selfishness,' but neither in the self nor the selfishness does the pure Thinker play the 'title-rôle.' Only one more point connected with our self-regard need be mentioned. We have spoken of it so far as active instinct or emotion. It remains to speak of it as cold intellectual self-estimation.
From On Becoming a Person: A Therapist's View of Psychotherapy (1961)
Fiedler, in a much quoted study (7), found that expert therapists of differing orientations formed similar relationships with their clients. Less well known are the elements which characterized these relationships, differentiating them from the relationships formed by less expert therapists. These elements are: an ability to understand the client’s meanings and feelings; a sensitivity to the client’s attitudes; a warm interest without any emotional over-involvement. A study by Quinn (14) throws light on what is involved in understanding the client’s meanings and feelings. His study is surprising in that it shows that “understanding” of the client’s meanings is essentially an attitude of desiring to understand. Quinn presented his judges only with recorded therapist statements taken from interviews. The raters had no knowledge of what the therapist was responding to or how the client reacted to his response. Yet it was found that the degree of understanding could be judged about as well from this material as from listening to the response in context. This seems rather conclusive evidence that it is an attitude of wanting to understand which is communicated. As to the emotional quality of the relationship, Seeman (16) found that success in psychotherapy is closely associated with a strong and growing mutual liking and respect between client and therapist. An interesting study by Dittes (4) indicates how delicate this relationship is. Using a physiological measure, the psychogalvanic reflex, to measure the anxious or threatened or alerted reactions of the client, Dittes correlated the deviations on this measure with judges’ ratings of the degree of warm acceptance and permissiveness on the part of the therapist. It was found that whenever the therapist’s attitudes changed even slightly in the direction of a lesser degree of acceptance, the number of abrupt GSR deviations significantly increased. Evidently when the relationship is experienced as less acceptant the organism organizes against threat, even at the physiological level. Without trying fully to integrate the findings from these various studies, it can at least be noted that a few things stand out. One is the fact that it is the attitudes and feelings of the therapist, rather than his theoretical orientation, which is important. His procedures and techniques are less important than his attitudes. It is also worth noting that it is the way in which his attitudes and procedures are perceived which makes a difference to the client, and that it is this perception which is crucial. “MANUFACTURED ” RELATIONSHIPS Let me turn to research of a very different sort, some of which you may find rather abhorrent, but which nevertheless has a bearing upon the nature of a facilitating relationship. These studies have to do with what we might think of as manufactured relationships. Verplanck (17), Greenspoon (8) and others have shown that operant conditioning of verbal behavior is possible in a relationship.
From History of the Christian Church: The Complete Set of Eight Volumes (1858)
Moreover, the strict meaning of a positive hatred seems impossible in the nature of the case, since it would contradict all we know from the Bible of the attributes of God. A God of love, who commands us to love all men, even our enemies, cannot hate a child before his birth, or any of his creatures made in his own image. "Can a woman forget her sucking child," says the Lord, "that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb? Yea, these may forget, yet will I not forget thee" (Isa. 49:15). This is the prophet’s conception of the tender mercies of God. How much more must it be the conception of the New Testament? The word hate must, therefore, be understood as a strong Hebraistic expression for loving less or putting back; as in Gen. 29:31, where the original text says, "Leah was hated" by Jacob, i.e. loved less than Rachel (comp. 29:30). When our Saviour says, Luke 14:26: "If any man hateth not his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot be my disciple," he does not mean that his disciples should break the fifth commandment, and act contrary to his direction: "Love your enemies, pray for them that persecute you" (Matt. 5:44), but simply that we should prefer him above everything, even life itself, and should sacrifice whatever comes in conflict with him. This meaning is confirmed by the parallel passage, Matt. 10:37: "He that loveth father and mother more than me is not worthy of me." (b) Rom. 9:17. Paul traces the hardening of Pharaoh’s heart to the agency of God, and so far makes God responsible for sin. But this was a judicial act of punishing sin with sin; for Pharaoh had first hardened his own heart (Ex. 8:15, 32; 9:34). Moreover, this passage has no reference to Pharaoh’s future fate any more than the passage about Esau, but both refer to their place in the history of Israel. (c) In Rom. 9:22 and 23, the Apostle speaks of "vessels of wrath fitted unto destruction" kathrtismevna eij" ajpwvleian), and "vessels of mercy which he (God) prepared unto glory" (a} prohtoivmasen eij" dovxan). But the difference of the verbs, and the difference between the passive (or middle) in the first clause and the active in the second is most significant, and shows that God has no direct agency in the destruction of the vessels of wrath, which is due to their self-destruction; the participle perfect denotes the result of a gradual process and a state of maturity for destruction, but not a divine purpose. Calvin is too good an exegete to overlook this difference, and virtually admits its force, although he tries to weaken it.
From On Becoming a Person: A Therapist's View of Psychotherapy (1961)
But we are getting ahead of our client. Let us examine some of the other aspects of this experience as it occurred to her. In earlier interviews she had talked of the fact that she did not love humanity, and that in some vague and stubborn way she felt she was right, even though others would regard her as wrong. She mentions this again as she discusses the way this experience has clarified her attitudes toward others. C: The next thing that occurred to me that I found myself thinking and still thinking, is somehow—and I’m not clear why—the same kind of a caring that I get when I say “I don’t love humanity.” Which has always sort of—I mean I was always convinced of it. So I mean, it doesn’t—I knew that it was a good thing, see. And I think I clarified it within myself—what it has to do with this situation, I don’t know. But I found out, no, I don’t love, but I do care terribly. T: M-hm. M-hm. I see. . . . C: . . . It might be expressed better in saying I care terribly what happens. But the caring is a—takes form—its structure is in understanding and not wanting to be taken in, or to contribute to those things which I feel are false and—It seems to me that in—in loving, there’s a kind of final factor. If you do that, you’ve sort of done enough. It’s a— T: That’s it, sort of. C: Yeah. It seems to me this other thing, this caring, which isn’t a good term—I mean, probably we need something else to describe this kind of thing. To say it’s an impersonal thing doesn’t mean anything because it isn’t impersonal. I mean I feel it’s very much a part of a whole. But it’s something that somehow doesn’t stop. . . . It seems to me you could have this feeling of loving humanity, loving people, and at the same time—go on contributing to the factors that make people neurotic, make them ill—where, what I feel is a resistance to those things. T: You care enough to want to understand and to want to avoid contributing to anything that would make for more neuroticism, or more of that aspect in human life. C: Yes. And it’s—(pause). Yes, it’s something along those lines. . . . Well, again, I have to go back to how I feel about this other thing. It’s—I’m not really called upon to give of myself in a—sort of on the auction block. There’s nothing final. . . . It sometimes bothered me when I—I would have to say to myself, “I don’t love humanity,” and yet, I always knew that there was something positive. That I was probably right.
From History of the Christian Church: The Complete Set of Eight Volumes (1858)
When his son Henry, in 1553, went to Strassburg, Wittenberg, and Vienna to prosecute his theological studies, be wrote down for him wise rules of conduct, of which the following are the most important: 1) Fear God at all times, and remember that the fear of God is the beginning of wisdom. 2) Humble yourself before God, and pray to him alone through Christ, our only Mediator and Advocate. 3) Believe firmly that God has done all for our salvation through his Son. 4) Pray above all things for strong faith active in love. 5) Pray that God may protect your good name and keep thee from sin, sickness, and bad company. 6) Pray for the fatherland, for your dear parents, benefactors, friends, and all men, for the spread of the Word of God; conclude always with the Lord’s Prayer, and use also the beautiful hymn, Te Deum laudamus [which he ascribes to Ambrose and Augustin]. 7) Be reticent, be always more willing to hear than to speak, and do not meddle with things which you do not understand. 8) Study diligently Hebrew and Greek as well as Latin, history, philosophy, and the sciences, but especially the New Testament, and read daily three chapters in the Bible, beginning with Genesis. 9) Keep your body clean and unspotted, be neat in your dress, and avoid above all things intemperance in eating and drinking. 10) Let your conversation be decent, cheerful, moderate, and free from all uncharitableness.317 He recommended him to Melanchthon, and followed his studies with letters full of fatherly care and affection.318 He kept his parents with him till their death, the widow of Zwingli (d. 1538), and two of her children, whom he educated with his own. Notwithstanding his scanty income, he declined all presents, or sent them to the hospitals. The whole people revered the venerable minister of noble features and white patriarchal beard.
From History of the Christian Church: The Complete Set of Eight Volumes (1858)
When the sinner gives reasonable evidence of repentance he is to be restored. Calvin objects to "the excessive austerity of the ancients," who refused to readmit the lapsed. He approves of the course of Cyprian, who says: "Our patience and kindness and tenderness is ready for all who come; I wish all to return into the Church; I wish all our fellow-soldiers to be assembled in the camp of Christ, and all our brethren to be received into the house of God our Father. I forgive everything; I conceal much. With ready and sincere affection I embrace those who return with penitence." Calvin adds: "Such as are expelled from the Church, it is not for us to expunge from the number of the elect, or to despair of them as already lost. It is proper to consider them as strangers to the Church, and consequently to Christ, but this only as long as they remain in a state of exclusion. And even then let us hope better things of them for the future, and not cease to pray to God on their behalf. Let us not condemn to eternal death the offender, nor prescribe laws to the mercy of God who can change the worst of men into the best." He makes a distinction between excommunication and anathema; the former censures and punishes with a view to reformation and restoration; the latter precludes all pardon, and devotes a person to eternal perdition. Anathema ought never to be resorted to, or at least very rarely. Church members ought to exert all means in their power to promote the reformation of an excommunicated person, and admonish him not as an enemy, but as a brother (2 Cor. 2:8). "Unless this tenderness be observed by the individual members as well as by the Church collectively, our discipline will be in danger of speedily degenerating into cruelty." 2. As regards the discipline of the clergy, Calvin objects to the exemption of ministers from civil jurisdiction, and wants them to be subject to the same punishments as laymen. They are more guilty, as they ought to set a good example. He quotes with approval the ancient canons, so shamefully neglected in the Roman Church of his day, against hunting, gambling, feasting, usury, commerce, and secular amusements. He recommends annual visitations and synods for the correction and examination of delinquent clergymen.
From History of the Christian Church: The Complete Set of Eight Volumes (1858)
"Pardon me for loading your breast with these miserable though ineffectual groans. Adieu, most illustrious sir, and ever worthy of my hearty regard. May the Lord continue to guide you by his Spirit, and sustain you by his might. May his protection guard you. Amen." We have here a repetition of the scene between Paul and Peter at Antioch, concerning the rite of circumcision; and while we admire the frankness and boldness of Paul and Calvin in rebuking an elder brother, and standing up for principle, we must also admire the meekness and humility of Peter and Melanchthon in bearing the censure. Melanchthon himself, after a brief interruption, reopened the correspondence in the old friendly spirit, during the disturbances of war between Elector Maurice and the Emperor Charles, which made an end of the controversy about the Adiaphora. "How often," wrote Melanchthon, Oct. 1, 1552,572 "would I have written to you, reverend sir and dearest brother, if I could find more trustworthy letter-carriers. For I would like to converse with you about many most important matters, because I esteem your judgment very highly and know the candor and purity of your soul.573 I am now living as in a wasp’s nest;574 but perhaps I shall soon be called from this mortal life to a brighter companionship in heaven. If I live longer, I have to expect new exiles; if so, I am determined to turn to you. The studies are now broken up by pestilence and war. How often do I mourn and sigh over the causes of this fury among princes." In a lengthy and interesting answer Calvin says:575 "Nothing could have come to me more seasonably at this time than your letter, which I received two months after its despatch."576 He assures him that it was no little consolation to him in his sore trials at Geneva to be assured of the continuance of his affection, which, he was told, had been interrupted by the letter of remonstrance above referred to. "I have learned the more gladly that our friendship remains safe, which assuredly, as it grew out of a heartfelt love of piety, ought to remain forever sacred and inviolable." In the unfortunate affair of Servetus, Melanchthon fully approved Calvin’s conduct (1554).577 But during the eucharistic controversy excited by Westphal, he kept an ominous silence, which produced a coolness between them. In a letter of Aug. 3, 1557, Calvin complains that for three years he had not heard from him, but expresses satisfaction that he still entertained the same affection, and closes with the wish that he maybe permitted "to enjoy on earth a most delightful interview with you, and feel some alleviation of my grief by deploring along with you the evils which we cannot remedy."578
From The Mating Mind: How Sexual Choice Shaped the Evolution of Human Nature (2000)
So, what did those hominid kids do to us? They did not make male humans as good at parenting as the average female mammal, but they made them better fathers than in almost any other male primate species. Men bring children food, make them toys, teach them things, and play with them. Their willingness to do this even for step-children could be viewed as a side-effect of a male adaptation for taking care of their own genetic offspring. But perhaps fatherly support and protection of step-children was the norm in the Pleistocene. If typical sexual relationships only lasted a few years, men were much more likely to be playing with some other guy’s children than their own. Many evolutionary psychologists have pointed out that what looks like paternal effort may actually have evolved through sexual choice as courtship effort. Men attracted women by pleasing their kids. This is not to say that step-fathers are all sweetness and light. Evolutionary psychologists Martin Daly and Margo Wilson have found that men in every culture are about a hundred times more likely to beat and kill their step-children than their genetic children. There are clear evolutionary reasons for that. When male lions and langur monkeys mate with a new female, they routinely try to kill all of her existing offspring. Those offspring do not carry the males’ genes, so by killing them the males free the females to conceive their own offspring, who will carry their genes. The risk of infanticide by males is a big problem for many female primates. Yet is it much less of a worry for modern women. I want to highlight how kind most human step-fathers are compared with other male primate step-fathers. Not only do we consistently fail to kill our step-children like lions try to, we sometimes take reasonably good care of them. Surprisingly, human fathering instincts may have evolved through sexual selection for pleasing the existing children of potential female mates. Of course, where those existing children happen to be ours because we are still in a long-term sexual relationship, there are extra genetic incentives to be good fathers. Where Sexual Choice Did Its WorkMating among our ancestors was complicated, flexible, and strategic. When we talk about their “mating pattern,” this is just a generalization across a lot of individual strategic behavior. The individual sexual choices, not the aggregate mating pattern, drive sexual selection. To describe our ancestors as following mating patterns like “moderate polygamy” and “serial monogamy” is just a useful shorthand for identifying these sexual selection pressures.
From The Nasty Bits: Collected Varietal Cuts, Usable Trim, Scraps, and Bones (2006)
But looking down at Rob's unconscious face, his eyes closed and without expression or care, blissfully snoring as "Jingle Bells" played on and on, the snowflakes beginning to collect on his lashes, she found herself thinking how sweet he looked, how strangely innocent he'd once been. She remembered the first time she'd met him. Just a quick hello between orders at Red House, where she'd had to poke her head into the kitchen to greet the people who'd prepared what had been a spectacular meal He'd been distracted. His eyes had swept right across her face without registering. He'd managed a "Nice to meet you" before hurrying back behind the single six-burner range to rescue an order of skate grenobloise. It had been all about the food then. She'd recognized that look. They could leave him like this. It might serve him right. Could be a much-deserved wake-up call, coming to in a doorway in a puke-stained Santa suit. But he looked so abjectly helpless, didn't he, so fucking adorable lying there in that ridiculous outfit, snow collecting on his chest and legs like something out of Dickens. She could take him home. Drop him in a hot tub. Feed him hot cocoa with marshmallows. Or she could draw the word asshole on his forehead with red lipstick and leave him to possible hypothermia and a "Page Six" item. She looked at Paul, saw the fatigue, the worry, the disgust in his face—the look she'd seen in so many good cooks' faces over the years when faith and hope had begun to ebb. And then she had an idea. "I know what to do," she said. "Hail a cab and help me pick his sorry ass up. America's sexiest chef is gonna work the line tonight." When they arrived at Saint Germain, Michelle and Paul hauled Rob down the service stairs and hosed him off. Michelle then helped peel off the sodden Santa suit and they managed to dress him in a snap-front dishwasher shirt and some ill-fitting checks borrowed from Manuel. After several large mugs of coffee and threats and numerous stomach-emptying trips to the bathroom, Paul announced to the crew that Rob would be working the saute station for the rest of the shift. "I can't do it," Rob had protested, as he was half carried, half pushed onto the line. Kevin, eyes gaping, stepped aside after a final wipe of his cutting board, and Michelle moved in to take over at grill. Paul took his place at the expediting station. "You can do it, chef," he said. "Remember? Out all night snorting blow and doing Jager shots, puking on the line into the trash bins? Cold sweats and shakes? We cooked, man. We got three fucking stars working like that, bro. You can do it. Think of the good old days." "Oh God . . . Please . . .
From History of the Christian Church: The Complete Set of Eight Volumes (1858)
He preached eight sermons for eight days in succession, and carried the audience with him. They are models of effective popular eloquence, and among the best he ever preached. He handled the subject from the stand-point of a pastor, with fine tact and practical wisdom. He kept aloof from coarse personalities which disfigure so many of his polemical writings. Not one unkind word, not one unpleasant allusion, escaped his lips. In plain, clear, strong, scriptural language, he refuted the errors without naming the errorists. The positive statement of the truth in love is the best refutation of error.493 The ruling ideas of these eight discourses are: Christian freedom and Christian charity; freedom from the tyranny of radicalism which would force the conscience against forms, as the tyranny of popery forces the conscience in the opposite direction; charity towards the weak, who must be trained like children, and tenderly dealt with, lest they stumble and fall. Faith is worthless without charity. No man has a right to compel his brother in matters that are left free; and among these are marriage, living in convents, private confession, fasting and eating, images in churches. Abuses which contradict the word of God, as private masses, should be abolished, but in an orderly manner and by proper authority. The Word of God and moral suasion must be allowed to do the work. Paul preached against the idols in Athens, without touching one of them; and yet they fell in consequence of his preaching. "Summa summarum," said Luther, "I will preach, speak, write, but I will force no one; for faith must be voluntary. Take me as an example. I stood up against the Pope, indulgences, and all papists, but without violence or uproar. I only urged, preached, and declared God’s Word, nothing else. And yet while I was asleep, or drinking Wittenberg beer with my Philip Melanchthon and Amsdorf, the Word inflicted greater injury on popery than prince or emperor ever did. I did nothing, the Word did every thing. Had I appealed to force, all Germany might have been deluged with blood; yea, I might have kindled a conflict at Worms, so that the Emperor would not have been safe. But what would have been the result? Ruin and desolation of body and soul. I therefore kept quiet, and gave the Word free course through the world. Do you know what the Devil thinks when he sees men use violence to propagate the gospel? He sits with folded arms behind the fire of hell, and says with malignant looks and frightful grin: ’Ah, how wise these madmen are to play my game! Let them go on; I shall reap the benefit. I delight in it.’ But when he sees the Word running and contending alone on the battle-field, then he shudders and shakes for fear. The Word is almighty, and takes captive the hearts."494
From Paul and Palestinian Judaism (40th Anniversary Edition) (2017)
5. 1ff.: 'The Lord said to Moses, Command the people of Israel that they put out of the camp every leper, and every one having a discharge, and every one that is unclean through contact with the dead.' The midrash carefully defines each element in the commandment: it is to be applied both at the time it was spoken and in subsequent generations; the partitions of the camp are defined (in decreasing sanctity: the camp of the Shekinah, of the Levites and of Israel); the problem of whether all three groups of those being expelled are put in one place is dealt with; the question of whether the commandment is to be applied to other groups who were counted unclean is raised and answered (it is not; one does not punish on the basis of an inference ad maius); it is noted that the commandment applies to male and female, adult and child, and also to the inevitable tumtum and androgynous; further, vessels (utensils) which are unclean in the specified ways are to be put out of the camp, although a piece of cloth less than three handbreadths square is exempted by R. Jose the Galilean. The argumentation concerning the points which have been briefly outlined here, even though the Hebrew is typically brief and economical almost to the point of obscurity, covers over three pages of Horovitz's text (pp. 1-4). This is one more example of the kind of halakic definition which we have already discussed. But then, in commenting on Num. 5.3 ('Which 12 Neusner, Eliezer II, pp. 309f., comes to the same conclusion with regard to Pharisaism before 70 c.e. 82 Tannaitic Literature [I I dwell [shoken] in the midst of you'), the anonymous author of the midrash gives us a small glimpse into the religious motivation which lay behind the exact and meticulous definition of the commandments: Beloved is Israel, for even though they are unclean the Shekinah is among them. And also it says: 'Which dwells (ha-shoken) with them in the midst of their un- cleanness' (Lev. 16.16). And it says: 'By making unclean my tabernacle (mishkani) which is in your midst' (Lev. I 5.3 I). And it says: 'That they may not make unclean their camps in which I dwell in the midst of you' (Num. 5.3). And it says: 'You shall not make unclean the land in which you live, in the midst of which I dwell (shoken )' (Num. 35.34). 13 Here the Rabbi not only makes the great religious claim that God's presence (the Shekinah) is with Israel even in their uncleanness, but also points to the reason for exact observance of the law. Since God dwells with the people, they should not tolerate that which is unclean and abhorrent to God. The last two passages quoted (Num. 5.3 and 35.34) make the point especially clearly. The reason for defining the commandments precisely is to be able to do what God enjoined.
From History of the Christian Church: The Complete Set of Eight Volumes (1858)
The two Swiss, who had studied at Basel, were attracted by the fame of Luther and Melanchthon, and traveled on foot to Wittenberg to hear them. They arrived at Jena after a terrible thunderstorm, fatigued and soaked through, and humbly sat down on a bench near the door of the guest-chamber, when they saw a Knight seated at a table, sword in hand, and the Hebrew Psalter before him. Luther recognized the Swiss by their dialect, kindly invited them to sit down at his side, and offered them a drink. He inquired whether Erasmus was still living in Basel, what he was doing, and what the people in Switzerland thought of Martin Luther. The students replied that some lauded him to the skies as a great reformer; others, especially the priests, denounced him as an intolerable heretic. During the conversation two traders came in; one took from his pocket Luther’s sermons on the Gospels and Epistles, and remarked that the writer must be either an angel from heaven or a devil from hell. At dinner Luther gave them a rare feast of reason and flow of soul. The astonished students suspected that the mysterious Knight was Ulrich von Hutten, when Luther, turning to the host, smilingly remarked, "Behold, I have become a nobleman over the night: these Swiss think that I am Hutten; you take me for Luther. The next thing will be that I am Marcolfus." He gave his young friends good advice to study the biblical languages with Melanchthon, paid their bill, offered them first a glass of beer, but substituted for it a glass of wine, since the Swiss were not used to beer, and with a shake of the hand he begged them to remember him to Doctor Jerome Schurf, their countryman, at Wittenberg. When they wished to know the name of the sender of the salutation, he replied, "Simply tell him that he who is coming sends greeting, and he will understand it." When the students a few days afterwards arrived at Wittenberg, and called on Dr. Schurf to deliver the message from "him who is coming," they were agreeably surprised to find Luther there with Melanchthon, Jonas, and Amsdorf. Luther greeted them heartily, and introduced them to Melanchthon, of whom he had spoken at Jena.
From New Testament Words (1964)
Originally entugchanein meant quite simply to meet a person, to fall in with a person, to come close to a person. When we meet a person we talk to him and he talks to us; and so the word went on to mean to converse with a person; even further, it began to mean to have intimate fellowship and communion with a person. For instance, when Socrates was near the end, and when he was preparing to die, he told his friends that he welcomed death because after death he would have converse with Palamedes and Ajax and others of the great men of the ancient days who died through unjust judgment (Plato, Apology 41b). To Socrates the reward of death was intimate fellowship with the great and good who had gone before. Here then is the first idea in entugchanein. It speaks of the right to approach God; it speaks of the intimate fellowship which the Christian can enjoy with God; it means that we do not make our requests to God from a great distance and across some infinity of space, but that we can talk and converse with him as a man talks with his friend. As we meet our friends, so we can meet God. But the word develops still another meaning. It begins by meaning simply to meet a person; it goes on to mean to have intimate converse and fellowship with a person; but finally it becomes in the papyri an almost technical word for presenting a petition to someone in authority and especially to the king. Enteuxis, which originally meant simply a meeting, comes to be the usual word for a petition presented to the king. There is an interesting papyrus which tells of twins, Thaues and Taous, who served in the Temple of Serapis at Memphis. They felt that they were being unjustly treated and that they were not receiving the treatment which they had been promised. Ptolemy Philometor and his queen, Cleopatra the Second, came on a visit to the temple, and the twins seized the opportunity to present the king with an enteuxis, a petition, which set out their grievances and which appealed for justice. Enteuxis, then, is the technical word for a petition to a king; and entugchanein is the technical word for presenting such a petition. Here then is a tremendous picture. When we pray we are in the position of those who have undisputed access that they may bring their petitions to the king. When we pray it is to a king we come. Therein is set forth at once both the tremendous privilege of prayer, and the tremendous power of prayer. We have the privilege of entry to the presence of the King of kings; and when we enter there we have all his power and greatness on which we may draw. Prayer is nothing less than entering into the presence of the Almighty and receiving the resources of the Eternal.
From The Mating Mind: How Sexual Choice Shaped the Evolution of Human Nature (2000)
When life stories became important in verbal courtship, our ancestors began to judge one another’s past experiences, not just their present appearance. Language made each individual’s entire history a part of their “extended phenotype” in courtship. Like our body ornaments, our pasts became part of our sexual displays. We dragged them around after us, into every new relationship. As a result, sexual selection could favor any mental trait that tended to produce an attractive past. It sounds like a time-travel paradox, but it is not. It just means that sexual selection could have favored genes for a good autobiographical memory, a tendency to have risky adventures, or a credibly restrained sex life without too many infidelities. The handicap principle suggests that sexual selection could even have favored a masochistic taste for memorable discomfort, since the ability to survive hardship reveals fitness. Even in the carnage of mechanized warfare or the intellectual bloodbath of an academic job interview, one can always think, “This will make a hell of a story someday.” Through memory and language, we can transform a pure fitness cost in the past (such as a physical wound or a social rejection) into a reliable fitness indicator in the present (a story about our ability to heal without disability, or to overcome depression). Introspective, Articulate Ape Seeks SameSexual selection for verbal courtship may have re-engineered our minds in other ways, favoring abilities to articulate a wider range of our mental processes. Before language evolved, there may have been little reason for animals to introspect about their thoughts and feelings. If introspection does not lead to adaptive behavior, it cannot be favored by evolution. However, once verbal courtship became important, sexual selection pressures could have increased the incentives for being able to consciously experience more of the thoughts and feelings that guide our behavior, and being able to report those experiences verbally. Lovers sometimes say, “Words cannot express what I feel about you,” but this attention-getting device usually precedes hours of impassioned chatter or lovemaking. Articulate people can articulate anything that they consciously experience. Insofar as sexual choice favored verbal self-disclosure, it may have favored an expansion of conscious experience itself. The result is the effortless, fluid way we can translate from perceived objects through consciously attended qualities into spoken observations. We can walk with a lover through Kew Gardens, notice a rose, describe its distinctive color and fragrance, and perhaps even whisper a relevant quote from Shakespeare’s sonnet fifteen, observing Where wasteful Time debateth with Decay, To change your day of youth to sullied night; And all in war with Time for love of you, As he takes from you, I engraft you new.
From What My Bones Know (2022)
“I just want you to know that you haven’t actually done anything wrong. Just remember that eventually you will be loved, I promise,” I say. “And…I want you to know how powerful you are. Your vigilance. Your diplomacy. You are only a small child, but you are the nucleus that keeps this family together. With or without you, these two toxic adults would be fundamentally unhappy. But you make them less unhappy, if anything. Their grief is not your fault.” I grab her and pull her to me. I am trying to impart a lifetime of love and warmth in a single embrace. And then that’s it. Buzzers off. It’s over. I emerge, dazed and blinking in Eleanor’s cluttered office. “How did you feel?” she asks. “Less…hypnotized than I thought,” I reply, which is a ridiculously inadequate description of what just happened, but…do I have words for what just happened? I thank Eleanor, shake her hand, and stumble into the hallway, where I stand for a few minutes, staring blankly at the wall. — I had recalled that moment of abuse two hundred times and not once had I ever cried. I never flinched. I always felt calm all over, a flat, barren nothing. Past therapists told me many times, “The abuse was not your fault.” And I felt that windless chill and responded, “Yeah, sure. I know that.” “Do you?” they asked. They forced me to repeat it, made me sit on their couches and awkwardly recite “The abuse I suffered was not my fault” over and over. “And how do you feel now?” they’d ask, hopefully, after I was finished. “I guess good?” I said. “Yeah, it’s true. It wasn’t my fault.” But I was a void when I said that. A voice and a body reading facts from a leaflet. Real life is not Good Will Hunting. Robin Williams himself could’ve looked me in the eye and yelled and whispered “It’s not your fault” ten or twenty or two hundred times, and I would not have collapsed into his arms sobbing about my lost youth. I would have blinked back at him, “Yeah, sure, I know.”
From When Breath Becomes Air (2016)
My thoughts turned to my father. As medical students, Lucy and I had attended his hospital rounds in Kingman, watching as he brought comfort and levity to his patients. To one woman, who was recovering from a cardiac procedure: “Are you hungry? What can I get you to eat?” “Anything,” she said. “I’m starving.” “Well, how about lobster and steak?” He picked up the phone and called the nursing station. “My patient needs lobster and steak—right away!” Turning back to her, he said, with a smile: “It’s on the way, but it may look more like a turkey sandwich.” The easy human connections he formed, the trust he instilled in his patients, were an inspiration to me. A thirty-five-year-old sat in her ICU bed, a sheen of terror on her face. She had been shopping for her sister’s birthday when she’d had a seizure. A scan showed that a benign brain tumor was pressing on her right frontal lobe. In terms of operative risk, it was the best kind of tumor to have, and the best place to have it; surgery would almost certainly eliminate her seizures. The alternative was a lifetime on toxic antiseizure medications. But I could see that the idea of brain surgery terrified her, more than most. She was lonesome and in a strange place, having been swept out of the familiar hubbub of a shopping mall and into the alien beeps and alarms and antiseptic smells of an ICU. She would likely refuse surgery if I launched into a detached spiel detailing all the risks and possible complications. I could do so, document her refusal in the chart, consider my duty discharged, and move on to the next task. Instead, with her permission, I gathered her family with her, and together we calmly talked through the options. As we talked, I could see the enormousness of the choice she faced dwindle into a difficult but understandable decision. I had met her in a space where she was a person, instead of a problem to be solved. She chose surgery. The operation went smoothly. She went home two days later, and never seized again.
From History of the Christian Church: The Complete Set of Eight Volumes (1858)
Great as Gerson’s services were in other departments, it was, to follow his sympathetic and scholarly biographer, Schwab, from the pulpit that he exercised most influence on his generation.400 He preached in French as well as Latin, and his sermons had, for the most part, a practical intent, being occupied with ethical themes such as pride, idleness, anger, the commandments of the Decalogue, the marital state. He held that the ordinary priest should confine himself to a simple explanation of the Decalogue, the greater sins and the articles of faith. During the last ten years of his life, spent in seclusion at Lyons, he continued his literary activity, writing more particularly in the vein of mystical theology. His last work was on the Canticles. The tradition runs that the great teacher in his last years conducted a catechetical school for children in St. Paul’s at Lyons, and that he taught them to offer for himself the daily prayer, "God, my creator, have pity upon Thy poor servant, Jean Gerson"—Mon Dieu, mon Createur, ayez pitié de vostre pauvre serviteur, Jean Gerson.401 It was for young boys and perhaps for boys spending their first years in the university that he wrote his tractate entitled Leading Children to Christ.402 It opens with an exposition of the words, "Suffer little children to come unto me" and proceeds to show how much more seemly it is to offer to God our best in youth than the dregs of sickly old age. The author takes up the sins children should be admonished to avoid, especially unchastity, and holds up to reprobation the principle that vice is venial if it is kept secret, the principle expressed in the words si non caste tamen caute. In a threefold work, giving a brief exposition of the Ten Commandments, a statement of the seven mortal sins and some short meditations on death and the way to meet it, Gerson gives a sort of catechism, although it is not thrown into the form of questions and answers. As the author states, it was intended for the benefit of poorly instructed curates who heard confessions, for parents who had children to instruct, for persons not interested in the public services of worship and for those who had the care of the sick in hospitals.403 The title, most Christian doctor—doctor christianissimus — given to John Gerson is intended to emphasize the evangelical temper of his teaching. To a clear intellect, he added warm religious fervor. With a love for the Church, which it would be hard to find excelled, he magnified the body of Christian people as possessing the mind and immediate guidance of Christ and threw himself into the advocacy of the principle that the judgment of Christendom, as expressed in a general council, is the final authority of religious matters on the earth.
From Wild (2012)
He nodded. “Yep. Just me. I like it, but it gets lonely sometimes. My name’s Clyde, by the way.” He held out his hand. “I’m Cheryl,” I said, shaking it. “You want to come and have a cup of tea with me?” “Actually, thanks, but I’m waiting for a friend to get off work.” I glanced at the club’s door, as if Jonathan would emerge from it any moment. “Well, my truck’s right here, so we wouldn’t be going anywhere,” he said, gesturing to an old milk truck in the parking lot. “That’s where I live when I’m not in my tepee. I’ve been experimenting with being a hermit for years, but sometimes it’s nice to come to town and hear a band.” “I know what you mean,” I said. I liked him and his gentle way. He reminded me of a few of the men I knew in northern Minnesota. Guys who’d been friends with my mom and Eddie, searching and open-hearted, solidly outside the mainstream. I’d rarely seen any of them since my mom died. It felt now as if I’d never known them and I couldn’t know them again. It seemed to me that whatever had existed back in the place where I’d grown up was so far away now, impossible to retrieve. “Well, nice to meet you, Cheryl,” Clyde said. “I’m going to go put my kettle on for tea. You’re welcome to join me, like I say.” “Sure,” I said immediately. “I’ll take a cup of tea.” I’ve never seen a house inside a truck that failed to strike me as the coolest thing in the world and Clyde’s was no different. Orderly and efficient, elegant and artful, funky and utilitarian. There was a woodstove and a tiny kitchen, a row of candles and a string of Christmas lights that cast enchanting shadows around the room. A shelf lined with books wound around three sides of the truck, with a wide bed tucked against it. I kicked off my new sandals and lay across the bed, pulling books off the shelf as Clyde put the kettle on. There were books about being a monk and others about people who lived in caves; about people who lived in the Arctic and the Amazon forest and on an island off the coast of Washington State. “It’s chamomile that I grew myself,” Clyde said, pouring the hot water into a pot once it boiled. While it steeped, he lit a few of the candles and came over and sat next to me on the bed, where I lay belly-down and propped up on my elbows, paging through an illustrated book about Hindu gods and goddesses. “Do you believe in reincarnation?” I asked as we looked together at the intricate drawings, reading bits about them in the paragraph of text on each page. “I don’t,” he said. “I believe we’re here once and what we do matters. What do you believe?”
From The Fixed Stars (0)
At June’s naptime, she followed me up the carpeted stairs to a bedroom under the eaves. I lay down with her, still in my swimsuit. It was damp, itchy, but I didn’t want to get up. I lay there and thought of a trip with my parents when I was six or seven, a few years older than June. We were in La Jolla, at the beach, and I hated it: the sand, the blaze of the sun, the sunscreen. My mother had a yellow terrycloth cover-up that was styled like a blazer, marigold-colored with thick plastic buttons and shoulder pads, and she gave it to me to put on. I fell asleep in it on the sand. The fabric on the inside was ticklish, its loops of thread rubbing my Coppertoned back like the rough side of a dish sponge. But I liked its weight across my shoulders, a weight that meant protection. I liked the way its warmth was different from the sun’s warmth. It was my mother’s heat. Now I curled around my child’s sleeping body, her arms soft and solid as water balloons. Stay, I said to myself, stay here. There is nowhere else. I wondered where Nora was. In the bathroom, I peeled off my swimsuit and dragged a comb through my hair. I listened to the voices rising through the ductwork from the kitchen. I’m torturing myself with a hypothetical, I said aloud to no one. [image file=image_rsrc2FK.jpg] It was a few days later, maybe the eighth of July, 2015, when I told Brandon about Nora. We were lying side by side in bed, on top of the blankets, too hot to get underneath. In the light from my bedside lamp, the wall beyond our feet glowed the color of cooked mushrooms. I have to talk to you about something, I said. I was looking at the ceiling. He’d been scrolling on his phone, and now he tossed it onto the blanket. Yeah? he said. Okay. I’m scared to talk to you about it, I said. My eyes burned. Okay, he said, more slowly this time. I’ve been avoiding it. It’s okay, he said. He was kind. When I had jury duty, I said, I kept looking at one of the attorneys. This woman in a men’s suit. Now I can’t stop thinking about her. Why’s that a big deal? he asked. He said it easily, like it really was the first thought that came to his mind. Like he wasn’t worried. It just is. Why? Nobody’s totally straight, right? We’re all on a spectrum. I didn’t answer. I had thought I was straight. Straight enough to not think about whether I was straight. I guess, I said. I don’t know. This feels weird. It’s okay. It doesn’t feel okay. This is normal, he said. You know I’ve had crushes too. But this doesn’t feel normal. This doesn’t feel like that. Have you even talked to her?
From Introduction to the Hebrew Bible and Deutero-Canonical Books (2018)
The threshing floor was not only a workplace but also a place of celebration, where men relaxed at the end of the work of harvest. The prophet Hosea accuses Israel of acting like a prostitute on all the threshing floors (Hos 9:1). These were apparently places where prostitutes might expect to find customers. Ruth is told to wash and anoint herself and to put on her best clothes. We may compare the more elaborate preparations of the girls from the king’s harem in Esth 2:12, or Judith’s preparation for seducing Holofernes in Jdt 10:3. Already in Mesopotamian mythology, the goddess Inanna washes and perfumes herself before she meets Dumuzi ( ANET, 639). Ruth waits until Boaz has eaten and drunk and lies down in contentment. There is perhaps an implication that he is slightly drunk. In Gen 19:30-38 the daughters of Lot get their father drunk and then sleep with him. The eldest becomes the mother of Moab. Holofernes becomes drunk in his attempt to seduce Judith. Unlike these figures, however, Boaz is not drunk to the point of unconsciousness. He is merely in a receptive mood. When the time was right, Ruth “came stealthily and uncovered his feet and lay down” (Ruth 3:7). The reference to feet is a euphemism. Ruth initiates a sexual encounter. It has been objected that nowhere else in the Hebrew Bible does a woman uncover a man, but herein lies precisely the boldness of Ruth’s action. Boaz, naturally, is somewhat startled to find a woman at his “feet,” but he is pleased to discover her identity. It is not clear, however, whether the sexual encounter is consummated. Ruth asks him to “spread your cloak over your servant, for you are next-of-kin” (3:9). Spreading the cloak signifies protection. More specifically, in the context, Ruth is requesting that Boaz marry her. Compare Ezek 16:8, where YHWH spreads the edge of his cloak over Israel and covers her nakedness and enters into a covenant with her. Obviously, Ruth’s action entails considerable risk, although she also puts considerable pressure on Boaz (note his concern that it not be known that she slept with him). We must assume that Boaz lets her stay the night because he finds her attractive, but he handles the question of marriage with all due propriety. There is another man who is more closely related to Naomi, but if he declines to marry Ruth, Boaz will do so as next of kin. The final chapter provides the resolution of the crisis. Boaz convenes the elders in the city gate. The closer relative is willing to buy Naomi’s field but backs out when he finds that he must take Ruth as part of the bargain. He then formally renounces his right in the matter by removing his sandal (cf. Deut 25:9, where the rejected widow is supposed to pull the sandal from his foot). Boaz marries Ruth, and the story reaches its happy ending.