Trust

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

  But the Synoptical Gospels bear the strongest internal marks of having been composed before the destruction of Jerusalem (A.D. 70), which is therein prophesied by Christ as a future event and as the sign of the fast approaching judgment of the world, in a manner that is consistent only with such early composition. The Epistle to the Hebrews, likewise, was written when the Temple was still standing, and sacrifices were offered from day to day. Yet, as this early date is not conceded by all, we will leave the Epistle out of view. The Apocalypse of John is very confidently assigned to the year 68 or 69 by Baur, Renan, and others, who would put the Gospels down to a much later date. They also concede the Pauline authorship of the great anti-Judaic Epistles to the Galatians, Romans, and Corinthians, and make them the very basis of their assaults upon the minor Pauline Epistles and the Acts of the Apostles, on the ground of exaggerated or purely imaginary differences. Those Epistles of Paul were written twelve or fourteen years before the destruction of Jerusalem. This brings us within less than thirty years of the resurrection of Christ and the birthday of the church. Now, if we confine ourselves to these five books, which the most exacting and rigorous criticism admits to be apostolic—the four Pauline Epistles and the Apocalypse—they alone are sufficient to establish the foundation of historical faith; for they confirm by direct statement or allusion every important fact and doctrine in the gospel history, without referring to the written Gospels. The memory and personal experience of the writers—Paul and John—goes back to the vision of Damascus, to the scenes of the Resurrection and Crucifixion, and the first call of the disciples on the banks of the Jordan and the shores of the Lake of Galilee. Criticism must first reason Paul and John out of history, or deny that they ever wrote a line, before it can expect sensible men to surrender a single chapter of the Gospels. Strong as the external evidence is, the internal evidence of the truth and credibility of the apostolic writings is still stronger, and may be felt to this day by the unlearned as well as the scholar. They widely differ in style and spirit from all post-apostolic productions, and occupy a conspicuous isolation even among the best of books. This position they have occupied for eighteen centuries among the most civilized nations of the globe; and from this position they are not likely to be deposed. We must interpret persons and events not only by themselves, but also in the light of subsequent history. "By their fruits ye shall know them." Christianity can stand this test better than any other religion, and better than any system of philosophy.

• From The Elementary Forms of the Religious Life (1915)

  Between the individual and his animal namesake there exist the very closest bonds. The man participates in the nature of the animal; he has its good qualities as well as its faults. For example, a man having the eagle as his coat-of-arms is believed to possess the gift of seeing into the future; if he is named after a bear, they say that he is apt to be wounded in combat, for the bear is heavy and slow and easily caught;[500] if the animal is despised, the man is the object of the same sentiment.[501] The relationship of the two is even so close that it is believed that in certain circumstances, especially in case of danger, the man can take the form of the animal.[502] Inversely, the animal is regarded as a double of the man, as his _alter ego_.[503] The association of the two is so close that their destinies are frequently thought to be bound up together: nothing can happen to one without the other's feeling a reaction.[504] If the animal dies, the life of the man is menaced. Thus it comes to be a very general rule that one should not kill the animal, nor eat its flesh. This interdiction, which, when concerning the totem of the clan, allows of all sorts of attenuations and modifications, is now much more formal and absolute.[505] On its side, the animal protects the man and serves him as a sort of patron. It informs him of possible dangers and of the way of escaping them;[506] they say that it is his friend.[507] Since it frequently happens to possess marvellous powers, it communicates them to its human associate, who believes in them, even under the proof of bullets, arrows, and blows of every sort.[508] This confidence of an individual in the efficacy of his protector is so great that he braves the greatest dangers and accomplishes the most disconcerting feats with an intrepid serenity: faith gives him the necessary courage and strength.[509] However, the relations of a man with his patron are not purely and simply those of dependence. He, on his side, is able to act upon the animal. He gives it orders; he has influence over it. A Kurnai having the shark as ally and friend believes that he can disperse the sharks who menace a boat, by means of a charm.[510] In other cases, the relations thus contracted are believed to confer upon the man a special aptitude for hunting the animal with success.[511]

• From Boys & Sex (2020)

  Would I have gotten a different story from these young men had I been male? I can’t say. I came to believe, though, that being a woman had its advantages. I don’t know that boys would have been as emotionally open with a man. At the very least, I’d say that for anything they withheld because I was female, there was something else they expressed for that precise reason. They often commented on the disconnect between our discussions and the ways they’d learned to talk with other guys about sexual encounters—mainly as a means to shore up masculinity. Away from that pressure, they could acknowledge its negative impact on their mental health without seeming weak or feeling judged. Perhaps that’s why some young men would insist I interview them, emailing me out of the blue (“I heard you say on the radio you were writing a book about boys. . . .”), corralling me after a speaking engagement, or checking in multiple times to set a date if I didn’t respond quickly. More stayed in touch than I would have imagined, too, texting or emailing for advice on complicated situations in which they found themselves. For a few, those relationships continue; at this point, as unlikely as it seems, we have become friends. Had I encountered these guys in their daily lives—had I been their mother, their aunt, their teacher—I would never have been privy to their innermost thoughts. They trusted me with that access because, as much as I did, they wanted me to get it right. The good news is, there was a deep desire among many of them for something different: a more expansive, holistic version of masculinity; a hunger for more guidance about growing up, hooking up, and finding love in a new era. In order to provide that, though, the first step is to listen to what they have to say. Chapter 1Welcome to Dick SchoolI knew nothing about Cole before meeting him; his was just a name on a list of boys who’d volunteered to talk to me (or perhaps had their arms twisted a bit) through a counselor at an independent high school outside of Boston. The afternoon of our first interview I was running late. As I rushed down a hallway I noticed a boy sitting outside the library waiting—it had to be him—staring impassively ahead, both feet planted on the floor, hands resting loosely on his thighs. My first reaction was, Oh no.

• From Little Women (1868)

  I never force my children's confidence, and I seldom have to wait for long." Mrs. March glanced at Jo as she spoke, but the face opposite seemed quite unconscious of any secret disquietude but Beth's, and after sewing thoughtfully for a minute, Jo said, "I think she is growing up, and so begins to dream dreams, and have hopes and fears and fidgets, without knowing why or being able to explain them. Why, Mother, Beth's eighteen, but we don't realize it, and treat her like a child, forgetting she's a woman." "So she is. Dear heart, how fast you do grow up," returned her mother with a sigh and a smile. "Can't be helped, Marmee, so you must resign yourself to all sorts of worries, and let your birds hop out of the nest, one by one. I promise never to hop very far, if that is any comfort to you." "It's a great comfort, Jo. I always feel strong when you are at home, now Meg is gone. Beth is too feeble and Amy too young to depend upon, but when the tug comes, you are always ready." "Why, you know I don't mind hard jobs much, and there must always be one scrub in a family. Amy is splendid in fine works and I'm not, but I feel in my element when all the carpets are to be taken up, or half the family fall sick at once. Amy is distinguishing herself abroad, but if anything is amiss at home, I'm your man." "I leave Beth to your hands, then, for she will open her tender little heart to her Jo sooner than to anyone else. Be very kind, and don't let her think anyone watches or talks about her. If she only would get quite strong and cheerful again, I shouldn't have a wish in the world." "Happy woman! I've got heaps." "My dear, what are they?" "I'll settle Bethy's troubles, and then I'll tell you mine. They are not very wearing, so they'll keep." and Jo stitched away, with a wise nod which set her mother's heart at rest about her for the present at least. While apparently absorbed in her own affairs, Jo watched Beth, and after many conflicting conjectures, finally settled upon one which seemed to explain the change in her. A slight incident gave Jo the clue to the mystery, she thought, and lively fancy, loving heart did the rest. She was affecting to write busily one Saturday afternoon, when she and Beth were alone together. Yet as she scribbled, she kept her eye on her sister, who seemed unusually quiet. Sitting at the window, Beth's work often dropped into her lap, and she leaned her head upon her hand, in a dejected attitude, while her eyes rested on the dull, autumnal landscape. Suddenly some one passed below, whistling like an operatic blackbird, and a voice called out, "All serene!

• From Another Country (1962)

  So, slipping and sliding, with Jane now circling helplessly around them and now leading the way, like a big-assed Joan of Arc, they reached Jane’s pad. He carried Vivaldo into the bathroom and sat him down. He looked in the mirror. His face looked like jam, but the scars would probably heal, and only one eye was closed; but when he began washing Vivaldo, he found a great gash in his skull, and this frightened him. “Man,” he whispered, “you got to go to the hospital.” “That’s what I said. All right. Let’s go.” And he tried to rise. “No, man. Listen. If I go with you, it’s going to be a whole lot of who shot John because I’m black and you’re white. You dig? I’m telling it to you like it is.” Vivaldo said, “I really don’t want to hear all that shit, Rufus.” “Well, it’s true, whether you want to hear it or not. Jane’s got to take you to the hospital, I can’t come with you.” Vivaldo’s eyes were closed and his face was white. “Vivaldo?” He opened his eyes. “Are you mad at me, Rufus?” “Shit, no, baby, why should I be mad with you?” But he knew what was bothering Vivaldo. He leaned down and whispered, “Don’t you worry, baby, everything’s cool. I know you’re my friend.” “I love you, you shithead, I really do.” “I love you, too. Now, get on to that hospital, I don’t want you to drop dead in this phony white chick’s bathroom. I’ll wait here for you. I’ll be all right.” Then he walked quickly out of the bathroom. He said to Jane, “Take him to the hospital, he’s hurt worse than I am. I’ll wait here.” She had the sense, then, to say nothing. Vivaldo remained in the hospital for ten days and had three stitches taken in his scalp. In the morning Rufus went uptown to see a doctor and stayed in bed for a week. He and Vivaldo never spoke of this night, and though he knew that Vivaldo had finally begun seeing her again, they never spoke of Jane. But from that time on, Rufus had depended on and trusted Vivaldo—depended on him even now, as he bitterly watched him horsing around with the large girl on the path. He did not know why this was so; he scarcely knew that it was so. Vivaldo was unlike everyone else that he knew in that they, all the others, could only astonish him by kindness or fidelity; it was only Vivaldo who had the power to astonish him by treachery. Even his affair with Jane was evidence in his favor, for if he were really likely to betray his friend for a woman, as most white men seemed to do, especially if the friend were black, then he would have found himself a smoother chick, with the manners of a lady and the soul of a whore.

• From Little Women (1868)

  Amy looked up at him, and was satisfied. Her little jealous fear vanished forever, and she thanked him, with a face full of love and confidence. "I wish we could do something for that capital old Professor. Couldn't we invent a rich relation, who shall obligingly die out there in Germany, and leave him a tidy little fortune?" said Laurie, when they began to pace up and down the long drawing room, arm in arm, as they were fond of doing, in memory of the chateau garden. "Jo would find us out, and spoil it all. She is very proud of him, just as he is, and said yesterday that she thought poverty was a beautiful thing." "Bless her dear heart! She won't think so when she has a literary husband, and a dozen little professors and professorins to support. We won't interfere now, but watch our chance, and do them a good turn in spite of themselves. I owe Jo for a part of my education, and she believes in people's paying their honest debts, so I'll get round her in that way." "How delightful it is to be able to help others, isn't it? That was always one of my dreams, to have the power of giving freely, and thanks to you, the dream has come true." "Ah, we'll do quantities of good, won't we? There's one sort of poverty that I particularly like to help. Out-and-out beggars get taken care of, but poor gentle folks fare badly, because they won't ask, and people don't dare to offer charity. Yet there are a thousand ways of helping them, if one only knows how to do it so delicately that it does not offend. I must say, I like to serve a decayed gentleman better than a blarnerying beggar. I suppose it's wrong, but I do, though it is harder." "Because it takes a gentleman to do it," added the other member of the domestic admiration society. "Thank you, I'm afraid I don't deserve that pretty compliment. But I was going to say that while I was dawdling about abroad, I saw a good many talented young fellows making all sorts of sacrifices, and enduring real hardships, that they might realize their dreams. Splendid fellows, some of them, working like heros, poor and friendless, but so full of courage, patience, and ambition that I was ashamed of myself, and longed to give them a right good lift. Those are people whom it's a satisfaction to help, for if they've got genius, it's an honor to be allowed to serve them, and not let it be lost or delayed for want of fuel to

• From Wild (2012)

  When I was done, I walked up the bank and then across a wide meadow, wet and cool. I could see Ed from a distance, and as I approached I watched him move from his camp kitchen to the picnic table with plates of food in his hands, bottles of ketchup and mustard and cans of Coke. I’d known him only a few minutes and yet, like the other men I’d met, he felt instantly familiar to me, as if I could trust him with close to anything. We sat across from each other and ate while he told me about himself. He was fifty, an amateur poet and seasonal vagabond, childless and divorced. I tried to eat at his leisurely pace, taking bites when he did, the same way I’d attempted to match my steps to Greg’s a few days before, but I couldn’t do it. I was ravenous. I devoured two hot dogs and a mountain of baked beans and another mountain of potato chips in a flash and then sat hungrily wishing for more. Meanwhile, Ed worked his way languidly through his lunch, pausing to open his journal to read aloud poems that he’d composed the day before. He lived in San Diego most of the year, he explained, but each summer he set up camp in Kennedy Meadows in order to greet the PCT hikers as they passed through. He was what’s referred to in PCT hiker vernacular as a trail angel, but I didn’t know that then. Didn’t know, even, that there was a PCT hiker vernacular. “Look here, fellas, we all lost the bet,” Ed hollered to the men when they returned from the store. “I didn’t lose!” Greg protested as he came close to squeeze my shoulder. “I put my money on you, Cheryl,” he insisted, though the others disputed his claim. We sat around the picnic table, talking about the trail, and after a while, they all dispersed to take naps—Ed to his trailer; Greg, Albert, and Matt to their tents. I stayed at the picnic table, too excited to sleep, pawing through the contents of the box I’d packed weeks before. The things inside smelled like a world far-off, like the one I’d occupied in what seemed another lifetime, scented with the Nag Champa incense that had permeated my apartment. The ziplock bags and packaging on the food were still shiny and unscathed. The fresh T-shirt smelled of the lavender detergent I bought in bulk at the co-op I belonged to in Minneapolis. The flowery cover of The Complete Stories by Flannery O’Connor was unbent.

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

  To estimate the weight of this argument, we must remember that these fathers still stood comparatively very near the apostolic age, and that the succession of bishops in the oldest churches could be demonstrated by the living memory of two or three generations. Irenaeus in fact, had been acquainted in his youth with Polycarp, a disciple of St. John. But for this very reason we must guard against overrating this testimony, and employing it in behalf of traditions of later origin, not grounded in the scriptures. Nor can we suppose that those fathers ever thought of a blind and slavish subjection of private judgment to ecclesiastical authority, and to the decision of the bishops of the apostolic mother churches. The same Irenaeus frankly opposed the Roman bishop Victor. Tertullian, though he continued essentially orthodox, contested various points with the catholic church from his later Montanistic position, and laid down, though at first only in respect to a conventional custom—the veiling of virgins—the genuine Protestant principle, that the thing to be regarded, especially in matters of religion, is not custom but truth.949 His pupil, Cyprian, with whom biblical and catholic were almost interchangeable terms, protested earnestly against the Roman theory of the validity of heretical baptism, and in this controversy declared, in exact accordance with Tertullian, that custom without truth was only time-honored error.950 The Alexandrians freely fostered all sorts of peculiar views, which were afterwards rejected as heretical; and though the paravdosi" ajpostolikhv plays a prominent part with them, yet this and similar expressions have in their language a different sense, sometimes meaning simply the holy scriptures. So, for example, in the well-known passage of Clement: "As if one should be changed from a man to a beast after the manner of one charmed by Circe; so a man ceases to be God’s and to continue faithful to the Lord, when he sets himself up against the church tradition, and flies off to positions of human caprice." In the substance of its doctrine this apostolic tradition agrees with the holy scriptures, and though derived, as to its form, from the oral preaching of the apostles, is really, as to its contents, one and the same with there apostolic writings. In this view the apparent contradictions of the earlier fathers, in ascribing the highest authority to both scripture and tradition in matters of faith, resolve themselves. It is one and the same gospel which the apostles preached with their lips, and then laid down in their writings, and which the church faithfully hands down by word and writing from one generation to another..951 § 140. The Rule of Faith and the Apostles’ Creed. Rufinus (d. 410): Expos. in Symbolum Apostolorum. In the Append. to Fell’s ed. of Cyprian, 1682; and in Rufini Opera, Migne’s "Patrologia," Tom. XXI. fol. 335–386.

• From Another Country (1962)

  “Shit, no, baby, why should I be mad with you?” But he knew what was bothering Vivaldo. He leaned down and whispered, “Don’t you worry, baby, everything’s cool. I know you’re my friend.” “I love you, you shithead, I really do.” “I love you, too. Now, get on to that hospital, I don’t want you to drop dead in this phony white chick’s bathroom. I’ll wait here for you. I’ll be all right.” Then he walked quickly out of the bathroom. He said to Jane, “Take him to the hospital, he’s hurt worse than I am. I’ll wait here.” She had the sense, then, to say nothing. Vivaldo remained in the hospital for ten days and had three stitches taken in his scalp. In the morning Rufus went uptown to see a doctor and stayed in bed for a week. He and Vivaldo never spoke of this night, and though he knew that Vivaldo had finally begun seeing her again, they never spoke of Jane. But from that time on, Rufus had depended on and trusted Vivaldo—depended on him even now, as he bitterly watched him horsing around with the large girl on the path. He did not know why this was so; he scarcely knew that it was so. Vivaldo was unlike everyone else that he knew in that they, all the others, could only astonish him by kindness or fidelity; it was only Vivaldo who had the power to astonish him by treachery. Even his affair with Jane was evidence in his favor, for if he were really likely to betray his friend for a woman, as most white men seemed to do, especially if the friend were black, then he would have found himself a smoother chick, with the manners of a lady and the soul of a whore. But Jane seemed to be exactly what she was, a monstrous slut, and she thus, without knowing it, kept Rufus and Vivaldo equal to one another. At last Vivaldo was free and hurried toward them on the path still grinning, and now waving to someone behind them. “Look,” he cried, “there’s Cass!” Rufus turned and there she was, sitting alone on the rim of the circle, frail and fair. For him, she was thoroughly mysterious. He could never quite place her in the white world to which she seemed to belong. She came from New England, of plain old American stock—so she put it; she was very fond of remembering that one of her ancestors had been burned as a witch. She had married Richard, who was Polish, and they had two children. Richard had been Vivaldo’s English instructor in high school, years ago. They had known him as a brat, they said—not that he had changed much; they were his oldest friends. With Leona between them, Rufus and Vivaldo crossed the road.

• From Boys & Sex (2020)

  As part of their process, Anwen and Sameer also met once together, with Cirioni carefully facilitating. Even though they had spoken before she filed her complaint, seeing Sameer in an official setting made Anwen anxious. Sameer was nervous, too, unsure of how to behave. Anwen wanted answers: Why did you do it? Didn’t you see I was panicked? How do I know you’ll never do this again? Sameer talked about the reading and thinking he had done, the conversations he’d had, the classes he’d taken: “If all this work and awareness doesn’t stick,” he told her, “then there’s no help for me.” Sometimes in our conversations, Sameer would refer to his past self as “younger Sameer” or “freshman Sameer.” I understood that. He was such a different guy now—so reflective, so empathic, so conscious of others’ feelings and comfort. His arc seemed almost too good to be true; I was tempted to write him off as a unicorn. On the other hand, there was nothing about “young Sameer” that hinted such transformation was possible. He had been a regular guy, someone who’d absorbed regular guy ideas, who’d behaved like so many regular guys do. He was not exceptional; if he could change so profoundly, maybe others could as well. “When you realize that you’ve done something terrible, you’re terrified of being judged and ostracized by your friends—to be fair, rightly so. That’s why I’m such a big proponent of restorative justice: I want to believe that people, men especially, have the capability of being kind, empathetic, overall good humans who, if we’re told that we’re doing something wrong, have the ability to step up.” Anwen and Sameer had graduated college by the time we spoke. He was back in California, working as a bartender; she was living in a woodstove-heated cottage in the Pacific Northwest. They still checked in with each other every month or so and expect they’ll always be in touch; although it isn’t the goal or expectation of restorative justice, they’ve come to share an unanticipated intimacy. “It’s pretty cool,” Anwen told me, “and it’s taken years to get there. But I know the worst thing he’s done, and he knows the thing that’s hurt me basically the most in my life. So I’m pretty comfortable talking with him about other things that have been hard. Because I know that he’s taken these steps to become a really understanding, caring, growing individual.”

• From Simply Jesus (2011)

  What was different? What did this man have to offer? Could they trust him? Was he a loyal Jew, obedient to God and his law, or was he leading Israel astray? And when the explanation came—significantly, in the passage where Jesus is sending back a difficult answer to his imprisoned cousin John—it picks up a strand in the ancient Jewish expectation that had, all along, gone with the dream of the final battle, the rebuilding of the Temple, and the return of Israel’s God to Zion. But it hadn’t been featured in the programs of the other would-be royal or kingdom-of-God movements—presumably because those at the head of them were not gifted with healing, while those in that world who did have such gifts (we have records of some such) did not see that as setting them on the track of a kingdom-of-God movement. Jesus, however, makes the connection. When he tells John’s messengers that the blind see, the lame walk, the deaf hear, and so forth, he is quoting directly from Isaiah’s vision of a “return from exile” that would also be nothing short of a new creation: Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf unstopped; then the lame shall leap like a deer, and the tongue of the speechless sing for joy. (Isa. 35:5–6) Interestingly, similar language also shows up in a fragment of the Dead Sea Scrolls, showing that other Jews of roughly the same period were reading the Isaiah passage as a prediction of what the Messiah was to do: “For the heavens and the earth shall listen to his Messiah . . . for he will honor the devout on the throne of his everlasting kingdom, setting the prisoners free, opening the eyes of the blind, raising up those who are brought low . . . and the Lord shall do wonderful deeds which have not been done, as he said. For he shall heal those who are badly wounded, and raise up the dead, and send good news to the afflicted.” (4Q521, col. 2; my translation) And then Jesus adds, as a warning, that if people want to understand what’s going on they will have to do some thinking and be prepared for a dangerous political stance. “And God bless you if you’re not upset by what I’m doing.” In other words, they shouldn’t look at his work and imagine that he must be a charlatan, out for his own ends, in league with the devil, or off on some fantasy trip that has nothing to do with Israel’s aspirations, the ancient promises of God, or the hope of the world at large. They shouldn’t look at all this and imagine it has nothing to do with God becoming king—with God taking over, calling the petty old tyrant up the road to account. On the contrary.

• From Simply Jesus (2011)

  And when I’ve been lifted up from the earth, I will draw all people to myself” (12:31–32). Somehow, Jesus’s forthcoming death will constitute his victory, God’s victory, over “this world’s ruler,” who seems to be not merely Caesar, but the power that stands behind Caesar and uses him for its dark, destructive purposes. Then, during the “farewell discourses,” which are John’s way of exploring the meaning of Jesus’s final evening with his followers—his unfolding, piece by piece, of what it means to say that to be with Jesus is now to be the true Temple people—we find the same theme coming through again and again. “I haven’t got much more to say to you,” says Jesus. “The ruler of the world is coming. He has nothing to do with me. But all this is happening so that the world may know that I love the father, and that I’m doing what the father has told me to do” (14:30–31). This is cryptic indeed, but the force of it is to say that Jesus’s forthcoming conflict with Caesar, and with the powers that stand behind Caesar, will not take place because Caesar has wanted it, but because the Father has wanted it. What Jesus will now do is an act of obedience and love. The “world” has hated him and will hate his followers too (15:18–16:4). But when the “Advocate” comes, the spirit of truth, that spirit will prove the world wrong in three things, sin, righteousness, and judgment. The “ruler of this world” is to be judged, convicted, condemned (16:11). These advance hints enable us to understand John’s explanation, the fullest in any of our accounts, of what is at stake when Jesus stands before the Roman governor. The scene in John 18–19 has the hallmarks of the kind of hearing we might expect in a Roman provincial court, and it is this confrontation that lies at the heart of both the political and the theological meaning of the kingdom of God. Jesus has announced God’s kingdom and has also embodied it in what he has been doing. But it is a different sort of kingdom from anything that Pilate has heard of or imagined: a kingdom without violence (18:36), a kingdom not from this world, but emphatically, through the work of Jesus, for this world. (The routine misunderstanding of the kingdom as “otherworldly” has been generated by the translation “My kingdom is not of this world”; but that is certainly not what John means, and it isn’t what Jesus meant either.) The Judaean leaders have a small part; we are still in this three-angled perfect storm, and this is where it reaches its height. But the main confrontation is between Jesus, representing God’s kingdom, and Pilate, representing the kingdoms of the world.

• From Simply Jesus (2011)

  And the point of this dense little promise is worryingly clear: the Spirit will do all this through the church. That is the mandate. That is how Jesus intends to operate. That is how the victory he won at Calvary is to be implemented in the world. In particular, we must take seriously the early Christian belief that with the death and resurrection of Jesus something decisive happened to the “principalities and powers.” Paul, writing to the Colossians from a Roman prison, is under no illusions about the continuing actual bodily power of the pagan empire whose captive he is. But he can still speak of the great victory that Jesus has already won over the rulers. The crucifixion looked as though they were celebrating a triumph over him, but in fact the boot was on the other foot: He stripped the rulers and authorities of their armor, and displayed them contemptuously to public view, celebrating his triumph over them in him. (2:15) As a result, Paul can even talk about all the principalities, powers, rulers, and authorities not only being created in, through, and for Jesus, but about them now being reconciled. He has “made peace by the blood of his cross” (1:20). This cannot mean—it obviously cannot mean!—that all rulers and authorities are now kindly disposed toward the message of Jesus and its messengers. Paul, as we said, is writing this letter from prison. The early church knew all about authorities that got it wrong, that imprisoned, beat, or killed Jesus’s followers. The early Christians were not living in a cloud-cuckoo-land, imagining that the rulers and authorities were really “on their side.” But, at the same time, they addressed the authorities, explained to them what they were doing, and appealed to them (you can see Paul doing it in Acts) to do their job properly. We can see the same thing going on in the second century, when bishops like Polycarp and apologists like Justin showed proper respect for the authorities, even though those authorities were obviously bent on killing them. Just as the early church refused to collapse its faith into a dualism in which the created order itself, the world of space, time, and matter, was evil and to be shunned, so it refused to collapse its witness to Jesus’s kingdom into a political dualism in which the rulers and authorities were straightforwardly wicked and to be condemned (or, as in Gnosticism and much modern Western spirituality, irrelevant and to be ignored). The only exception—which is obviously important—comes where the rulers actually divinize themselves; then they become demonic and shift into a different category altogether, as we see happening in Revelation 13.

• From Don't Feed the Monkey Mind: How to Stop the Cycle of Anxiety, Fear, and Worry (2017)

  simply feel, without responding to the monkey’s call to do something, whatever we are feeling can run its course. All sensations and emotions, even the ones that overwhelm us, have a beginning, a middle, and an end. They will pass like a thunderstorm. Eventually the clouds disperse and the sun shines through. The weather, like most of nature, is beyond our direct control. Because we know it will change—time and time again it has demonstrated that it will —we accept bad patches as necessary and we ride them out. If only we had the same faith and trust that our sensations and emotions, too, will burn themselves out and that we don’t need to control them. Because safety behaviors bring quick, reliable relief, they give us the illusion of control. We think, If I do something, I won’t have to feel this. This is what we’ve learned growing up in a culture that values the force of will and controlling outcomes as much as ours does. As I have shown in this book, and as you have undoubtedly experienced in your own life, doing something provides only temporary relief and keeps

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

  Besides appealing to the Scriptures, the fathers, particularly Irenaeus and Tertullian, refer with equal confidence to the "rule of faith;"948 that is, the common faith of the church, as orally handed down in the unbroken succession of bishops from Christ and his apostles to their day, and above all as still living in the original apostolic churches, like those of Jerusalem, Antioch, Ephesus, and Rome. Tradition is thus intimately connected with the primitive episcopate. The latter was the vehicle of the former, and both were looked upon as bulwarks against heresy. Irenaeus confronts the secret tradition of the Gnostics with the open and unadulterated tradition of the catholic church, and points to all churches, but particularly to Rome, as the visible centre of the unity of doctrine. All who would know the truth, says he, can see in the whole church the tradition of the apostles; and we can count the bishops ordained by the apostles, and their successors down to our time, who neither taught nor knew any such heresies. Then, by way of example, he cites the first twelve bishops of the Roman church from Linus to Eleutherus, as witnesses of the pure apostolic doctrine. He might conceive of a Christianity without scripture, but he could not imagine a Christianity without living tradition; and for this opinion he refers to barbarian tribes, who have the gospel, "sine charta et atramento," written in their hearts. Tertullian finds a universal antidote for all heresy in his celebrated prescription argument, which cuts off heretics, at the outset, from every right of appeal to the holy scriptures, on the ground, that the holy scriptures arose in the church of Christ, were given to her, and only in her and by her can be rightly understood. He calls attention also here to the tangible succession, which distinguishes the catholic church from the arbitrary and ever-changing sects of heretics, and which in all the principal congregations, especially in the original sects of the apostles, reaches back without a break from bishop to bishop, to the apostles themselves, from the apostles to Christ, and from Christ to God. "Come, now," says he, in his tract on Prescription, "if you would practise inquiry to more advantage in the matter of your salvation, go through the apostolic churches, in which the very chairs of the apostles still preside, in which their own authentic letters are publicly read, uttering the voice and representing the face of every one. If Achaia is nearest, you have Corinth. If you are not far from Macedonia, you have Philippi, you have Thessalonica. If you can go to Asia, you have Ephesus. But if you live near Italy, you have Rome, whence also we [of the African church] derive our origin. How happy is the church, to which the apostles poured out their whole doctrine with their blood," etc.

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

  times, however, when the most appropriate spiritual practice is to engage in necessary, albeit uncomfortable, psychological work. 2 In other words, we need spiritual practices—but we also need to deal with trauma. We need to understand grief. We need to recognize our weaknesses, addictions, fears, and dreams. We need to take care of our entire selves: body, soul, and spirit. So yes, have faith for physical health. But also eat more salads and fewer corn dogs. Pray for your finals. But also study and get a good night’s sleep. Ask God to bless your finances. But read a book or take a class or at least watch a few YouTube videos about balancing a budget. Faith and works are friends. And they are on the same side—yours. Don’t pit them against each other. Beware of teaching or philosophies that deny reality in the name of faith or that permit abuse to continue under the guise of spirituality. There is nothing spiritual about ignoring reality. Faith is not blind. Only foolishness is. I remember an old preacher saying that he had met people who were “so heavenly minded they were no earthly good.” He makes a valid point. If your faith doesn’t work in the real world, maybe it’s not faith at all. Maybe it’s escapism. Real faith is fully aware of what is happening in the physical world, but it sees beyond that world. It takes God into account. It uses faith to inform the present, not deny it. Your faith should make you more whole, not more fragmented. It should align you, orient you, stabilize you, unify you. If it doesn’t, get a new one, because yours is broken. THE SNEAKY DYNAMICS OF BYPASSING Religious bypassing is a sneaky thing. As I said before, we do it without realizing it—not from a bad heart, but rather from a subconscious desire to skip

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

  Jesus isn’t telling us to come to God like strangers hoping for a favor, but as sons and daughters confident that He will meet our needs. Because that’s what dads do. Second, it’s honest. There’s no beating around the bush, no pretending our needs don’t exist or don’t matter. God doesn’t just tolerate your requests, He asks for them. He expects them. So don’t pretend you don’t matter. You’re a child of God, and He delights in meeting your needs. Remember, pray about everything, and be anxious about nothing. Be real. Be honest. Be specific. That doesn’t obligate God to do everything you ask, of course. He can and does say “No,” or “Wait,” or even, “Are you kidding me right now?” But honesty is a mark of an authentic relationship, so don’t be afraid of it. Third, it’s daily. It might seem more efficient to say, “God, could you please just take care of every single need I will ever have, every day, for the rest of my life? Thanks, bro. Talk to you in eternity,” but that’s not how prayer works. Because it’s not how relationship works. It’s not how God works either. God meets our needs daily. Very often, He doesn’t meet any needs further ahead than that. That might scare us. Not having security regarding the future can be frightening. If we think about it a little more, though, we realize we have complete security regarding the future. God’s promises are faithful and true forever. He doesn’t need to give us a year’s supply of bread today. (What would we do with that much bread, anyway? Open a bakery? Overfeed ducks in the park?) We can be confident that He will meet our needs: all of them, every day, for the rest of our lives. Daily prayer for those needs draws us closer to God in a way nothing else does. It reminds us of our ongoing need for Him, and it helps us see how He meets our needs over and over. What’s on your “I need” list today? If you’re like me, there are a lot. That’s okay. But there are usually one or two that are triggering the most anxiety, confusion, or fear. Start with those. Lean in to them. Share not just the needs, but your emotions when you think of those needs. Come before Him confidently. I love this encouragement from the author of Hebrews: “Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and may find grace to help us in our time of need” (4:16). Pray about everything, be anxious about nothing. Nowhere is that more needed than in regard to the things you need today.

• From A Theology for the Social Gospel (1918)

  But all of us who have had to acquire our social and historical comprehension laboriously will appreciate how little the old Protestant system stimulated and developed the understanding of the social factor in redemption. The individualism of Reformation theology is being overcome by a new insistence on the importance of the Church. This trend of thought is not due, as in Anglican theology, to a renascence of Catholicism, but to a com- bination of purified Protestantism and modern social in- sight. I have been struck by the eminence of some of the prophets of this new solidaristic strain in theology. Schleiermacher in his earlier Reden fiber die Re- ligion ” still interpreted the religious sense of depend- ence as an individual experience. Maturer reflection showed him that all personal life is determined by the spirit of the community with which it is organically con- 1 Calvin, “ Institutes of the Christian Religion,” Book IV, i, 4. THE CHURCH AS THE SOCIAL FACTOR OF SALVATION 1 25 nected. This is true of the religious life too. Our sin is due to the feebleness with which we realize God. Jesus lived in complete and unbroken consciousness of God. Contact with him can so strengthen the God-consciousness in us that we are able to overcome the power of sin and rise to newness of life. But the memory of his life and the consciousness of salvation in him are transmitted to us only by the Church. We share his consciousness by sharing the common faith and experience of the Church. The new life of the individual is mediated by the social organism which is already in possession of that life. The Protestant theology of our age rests on the foun- dation laid by Schleiermacher ; all theologians — some directly, some more indirectly — are seeking to establish the connections between the religious personality of the individual and the common consciousness of the Church.” 1 Ritschl, the most vigorous and influential theological intellect in Germany since Schleiermacher, is evidence of this. He abandoned the doctrine of original sin but substituted the solidaristic conception of the Kingdom of Evil. He held that salvation is embodied in a com- munity which has experienced salvation; the faith of the individual is part of the faith of the Church. The Church and not the individual is the object of justifica- tion ; the assurance of forgiveness for the individual is based on his union with the Church. In American thought the most striking utterance on the indispensable importance of the Church in salvation ^ Pfleiderer, Glaubens-und Sittenlehre. § 55. 126 A THEOLOGY FOR THE SOCIAL GOSPEL

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

  He’s your confidante. Pray and live from that reality. PRAYERS AND PREMISES Life too often reminds us of our insufficiencies: who we are not, what we lack, how far we still have to go. Prayer, on the other hand, reminds us of the sufficiency of Christ. It helps us realize who we are in Him. It assures us that the blessings of heaven are ours. It reaffirms that God has brought us this far and isn’t giving up on us now. The Bible has a lot to say about the premises that underpin our relationship with God. I started to list a few of them, and I got a little carried away. I finally cut the list off at twenty-five. 1. I am safe. “Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the LORD, ‘He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.’” (Psalm 91:1–2) 2. I am always on God’s mind. “How precious to me are your thoughts, God! How vast is the sum of them! Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand— when I awake, I am still with you.” (Psalm 139:17–18) 3. I am led by God. “Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight.” (Proverbs 3:5–6) 4. I am at peace. “You will keep in perfect peace all who trust in you,

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

  Our role as partners or participants in God’s work is not based on our own merit, of course. That’s why Jesus was insistent earlier in John 15 that we abide in Him just as He abides in God (verses 1–10). That means abiding in both His love and His commands. When we pray “in Jesus’ name,” we are reminding ourselves that the basis for our prayers is Jesus, not us. We aren’t coming before His throne claiming we deserve to be heard or that God owes us anything. But we aren’t groveling in fear either, terrified that He’ll see our weaknesses and failures and ignore our needs as a result. Our prayers are grounded not in how we perform but in who we are: friends of Jesus. The basis of our prayer, the authority of our prayer, the power of our prayer—it comes from Jesus. Just as Jesus walked this earth doing what the Father did and saying what the Father said (John 5:19; 14:24), so we pray and act according to God’s will. That doesn’t mean we are robots or puppets, blindly following the will of God. He gives us a great amount of free will—more than we probably realize at times. He does not dominate or subjugate us; rather, He brings us into an interdependent relationship with Him. Sometimes He asks our opinion. Sometimes He lets us take the lead. Sometimes His decision is influenced by our desires. Sometimes He waits for us to ask before He decides to act. Sometimes He gives us options, then guides us into blessing regardless of what we choose. It would be arrogant—and impossible—for me to try to break down what this partnership looks like in every circumstance and for every person. I can’t always figure it out for my own life, much less for yours! All I know is that when I pray, God involves me in His work. And when I want to do His will, I find myself praying.