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.

Page 9 of 29 · 20 per page

• From The Laws of Human Nature (2018)

  But given all the odds against her, how could she hope to rule England on her own? She decided the only way forward was to turn her weak position into an advantage, forging her own type of credibility and authority, one that in the end would give her powers far greater than any previous king. Her plan was based on the following logic: Kings and queens of her time ruled with a tremendous sense of entitlement due to their bloodline and semidivine status. They expected complete obedience and loyalty. They did not have to do anything to earn this; it came with the position. But this sense of entitlement had its consequences. Their subjects would pay homage, but the emotional connection to such rulers was in most cases not very deep. The English people could feel the distance separating themselves from the monarch, and how little their rulers really considered them. This feeling of entitlement also blunted their political effectiveness. The government ministers were cowed and intimidated by someone like Henry VIII, and so their energy went into appeasing the king rather than using their own intelligence and creative powers. With this sense of entitlement, rulers paid less attention to the details of governing, which were too boring; wars of conquest became their chief means of getting glory and providing riches for the aristocracy, even though such wars drained a country’s resources. These rulers could be incredibly selfish—Henry VIII had Elizabeth’s mother executed so he could marry his latest mistress, not caring how tyrannical this made him seem to the English. Mary, Queen of Scots, had her husband murdered so she could marry her lover. It would be easy for Elizabeth to delude herself and simply expect the loyalty that came with her august position. But she was too smart to fall into that trap. She would deliberately go in the opposite direction. She would feel no sense of entitlement. She would keep in mind the weakness of her actual position. She would not passively expect loyalty; she would turn active. She would earn the trust and credibility she required through her actions over time. She would demonstrate that she was not selfish, that everything she did was motivated by what was for the greater good of the country. She would be alert and relentless in this task. She would alter the way people (her subjects, her ministers, her foreign rivals) perceived her —from an inexperienced and weak woman to a figure of authority and great power. By forging much deeper ties with her ministers and the commoners, she would overcome people’s natural fickleness and channel their energies for the purpose of rebuilding England.

• From Momma and the Meaning of Life (1999)

  “Bursting, turgid, livid, distended, tumescent, turgescent—” “‘Tumescent, turgescent’? And that other one—‘Tartarean.’ These words, Myrna?” “I’ve been browsing in a thesaurus this week.” “Hmm, I’d like to hear more about that, but right now let’s stay with the dream. These tonsils; they’re visible if you open your mouth. Just like the emptiness. And they’re about to burst. What’ll come out?” “Pus, ugliness, something odious, hideous, loathsome, disgusting, execrable, abhorrent, rancid—” “More thesaurus browsing?” Myrna nodded. “So the dream suggests that you’re seeing a doctor—me—and our work is uncovering some things you don’t want seen, or you don’t want me to see it—a vast emptiness, and tonsils ready to burst and spew something vile. Somehow the scalding red tonsils make me think of just a few minutes ago when all those words burst out of you.” She nodded again. “I’m moved by your bringing in this dream,” Ernest said. “It’s a sign of trust in me and what we’re doing together. It’s good work—real, good work.” He paused. “Now can we talk thesaurus?” Myrna described the fiery end of her poetry career as a child and her growing wish to write a poem. “This morning when I wrote down my dream, I knew you’d ask about the hole and the tonsils, so I searched for interesting words.” “Sounds like you wanted something from me.” “Interest, I guess. I didn’t want to be boring anymore.” “Your word, not mine. I never said that.” “Still, I’m convinced you feel that way about me.” “I want to come back to that, but first let’s look at something else in the dream—the halo around the doctor.” “The nimbus—yes, it was curious. I guess I’ve got you in the good-guy category now.” “So you think better of me and maybe want to be closer to me, but the dilemma is that if we get close, I might discover shameful things about you: maybe a void inside, maybe something else—explosive rage, self-loathing.” He looked at his watch. “I’m sorry we have to stop. The time has sped by. Again, good hard work today. It’s been good being with you.” *​*​*​ The hard work continued, solid therapy hours following one upon the other. Week after week, Ernest and Myrna reached new levels of trust. She had never before risked so much of herself; he felt privileged to be a witness to her transformation. It was for such experiences that Ernest had become a psychotherapist. Fourteen weeks after he’d last presented Myrna to the countertransference seminar, he sat at his desk, microphone in hand, and prepared another presentation. “This is Dr. Lash dictating notes for countertransference seminar. In the past fourteen weeks, both my patient and the therapy process have undergone astounding change. It’s as if I can divide therapy into two stages: before and after my ill-advised T-shirt comment.

• From Reading the Bible from the Margins (2002)

  Did Paul actually write them, or did one of his disciples pen the letters and place Paul's name on the works? Analyzing the Scriptures in this manner is beyond the scope of this book. My usage of Scripture is based on how a nonscholar would read the text within her/his community of faith. An assumption is made that the Gospels either contain the actual words of Christ, Jesus’ ipsissima verba , or the words of his earliest followers, who attributed these phrases to him. Our task is not to uncover the precise words spoken by Jesus but rather to ascertain how the faith community appropriates the text. Likewise, the authorship of Paul's letters seldom becomes a point of debate within the faith community. While such inquiries are important within the academic community, they are less relevant among the faith communities who look toward these epistles for guidance and inspiration. Arguments made in this book for a particular reading will not depend on whether an event or statement is authentic, nor on who is credited for writing a particular epistle. The text itself is accepted as prima-facie evidence. A final word about my personal relationship with the Bible. I believe in the Bible and approach it with reverence, searching its pages for the grace of God needed to achieve liberating salvation from both individual and societal sins. Yet I do not necessarily hold the same reverence for human interpretations, especially the interpretations that arise from a privileged dominant culture that justifies a status quo that normalizes oppressive race, gender, and class structures. At no time do I question the authority of Scripture; rather, by claiming its authority, this book challenges how the dominant religious culture has forged its interpretations —interpretations that at times mask power structures. By listening to voices that have historically been kept silent in this country and removed from biblical discourse, we can come closer to understanding how the first hearers of the Good News, themselves disenfranchised from the political powers of Rome and the religious powers of Jerusalem, might have understood the words of Jesus. CHAPTER 1Learning to Read: The Importance of WordsWhen we open the Bible, or any text for that matter, we seldom question how we define the words we find on the printed page. We assume that the words we read, defined by our cultural ethos, have universal meaning within that society. Yet, at a very basic level, words are linguistic signs that point to something other than themselves, something that conveys meaning. Signs as words do not link a name to a thing; rather they link a concept to an image. These signs, constructed by humans, tell us who we are, define others, and reveal how we relate to each other, the overall society, and the Deity. When we read a word, we envision an image, created by society, that is then connected to the linguistic sign.

• From In the Dream House (2019)

  Dream House as Noir She is not your first female crush, or your first female kiss, or even your first female lover. But she is the first woman who wants you in that way—desire tinged with obsession. She is the first woman who yokes herself to you with the label girlfriend. Who seems proud of that fact. And so when she walks into your office and tells you that this is what it’s like to date a woman, you believe her. And why wouldn’t you? You trust her, and you have no context for anything else. You have spent your whole life listening to your father talk about women’s emotions, their sensitivity. He never said it in a bad way, exactly—though the implication is always there. Suddenly you find yourself wondering if you’re in the middle of evidence that he’s right. All these years of telling him he’s full of bullshit, that he needs to decolonize his mind and lose the gender essentialism, and here you are learning that lesbian relationships are, somehow, different—more intense and beautiful but also more painful and volatile, because women are all of these things too. Maybe you really do believe that women are different. Maybe you owe your father an apology. Dames, right?

• From Mating in Captivity: Unlocking Erotic Intelligence (2006)

  Together we shift the focus from self-denial to self-awareness. We explore how she might reclaim a right to pleasure, with its inherent threat of selfishness, in a way that doesn’t leave her feeling like a bad mother. One upshot of these discussions is that Stephanie does something radical (for her)—she goes on a weekend retreat with her sister, leaving Warren and the children to their own devices. Getting to that point took a lot of work, but I sense that before she can open herself to sex, she needs to expand the general domain of personal pleasure. Becoming more generous with herself, she might—I hope—be more receptive to her husband. I’m not big on homework in therapy, especially when the list of domestic tasks is already endless. At the same time, action is a prerequisite for change. So I ask Warren and Stephanie, at the end of one session, to each do one thing differently in the next few weeks. They need not talk about it, for their effort will be measured not by its success but only by its intention. “I’d like you to stretch, to do something, anything, that takes you a step farther than usual.” To Warren I say, “We tend to do for others what we would like them to do for us, but it isn’t necessarily what they might want. Part of this is about working with and honoring your differences. At one time you pursued Stephanie with great creativity, but no more. There’s an assumption—and you’re not alone—that we need only pursue what we don’t yet possess. The trick is that in order to keep our partner erotically engaged we have to become more seductive, not less.” At this point, sex has been relegated to what Warren wants and what Warren misses. Stephanie has shifted from being receptive to being reactive. It is a passive stance in which her main power is that of refusal. To her I suggest, “Keep in mind that there’s something limiting about an absolute no. What really hurts him is categorical rejection. You might find more freedom in ‘Maybe’ or ‘Let’s kiss’ or even ‘Talk me into it.’ Warren, more than anyone else, can help you to reconnect with the woman inside the mother. Can you imagine recruiting him rather than pushing him away? Invite him to invite you, and see what happens.” Stephanie, consumed by motherhood, was too quick to dismiss the inherent value of Warren’s persistence. The way I see it, Warren provides a consistent reminder that erotic intimacy matters. With him, and through him, she potentially can begin to disentangle from the bond with her children and transfer some of her energy back to herself and her relationship with Warren. When the father reaches out to the mother, and the mother acknowledges him, redirecting her attention, this serves to rebalance the entire family. Boundaries get drawn, and new zoning regulations get put in place delineating areas that are adult only.

• From Mating in Captivity: Unlocking Erotic Intelligence (2006)

  It’s worth pointing out that in this encounter (and subsequent ones) James had no problem with coming too soon, or even with worrying that he might. When sex feels like an obligation it’s very efficacious to come fast—it brings a quick end to the discomfort. When lovers engage sexually as free agents, turning surrender into an act of self-assertion, there is no need to get it over with. Precipitating the grand finale isn’t so much the point as savoring the mutual trust and intimacy along the way. Premature ejaculation is a misnomer. It is not a matter of timing; it has to do with lack of intent. It would be better described as “involuntary ejaculation.” Once James was in charge of his desire, he was in charge of his ejaculation as well. In an interesting twist to the saga, James also told me that each time he and Stella have made love since beginning therapy it has been after an argument. “I’m a little bothered by that,” he confessed. “I’d like for us to be able to make love without preceding it with whatever that is.” “Anger and excitement have a complicated relationship,” I explain. “Physiologically, anger and arousal have a lot in common. Psychologically, too. In your case, I think the anger emboldens you. It relieves you of compliance, and leaves you feeling more entitled. Anger highlights separateness and is a counterpoint to dependence; this is why it can so powerfully stoke desire. It gives you the distance you need. As a habit it can be problematic, but there’s no denying that it’s a powerful stimulant.” Over the years I’ve met more than a few people like James and Stella, couples whose otherwise colorful relationship teeters on the brink of sensual austerity. Together we investigate the emotional undercurrents of their erotic stagnation. We trace the origins of the blocks as well as the relational dynamics that keep them in place. They find it useful to begin this way, and are comforted to learn that understanding the past can help them change the present. On the Importance of Being Ruthless We commonly believe that the closer we feel to someone, the easier it will be to shed our inhibitions. But that’s only half the story. Intimacy does nurture desire, but sexual pleasure also demands separateness. Erotic excitement requires that we be able to step out of the intimate bond for a moment, turn toward ourselves, and focus on our own mounting sensations. We need to be able to be momentarily selfish in order to be erotically connected. Our ability to step away from our loved ones while trusting their steadfastness is forged in the security of our childhood bonds. The more we trust, the farther we are able to venture. When infants play peek a boo, the distance they can bear is only as far as the breadth of their fingers. What powers the game is the realization that, even when I don’t see you, you continue to exist.

• From Mating in Captivity: Unlocking Erotic Intelligence (2006)

  For many people, the prohibitions against ruthlessness within the context of a loving relationship are just too great to allow for erotic abandon. The self-absorption inherent in sexual excitement obliterates the other in a way that collides with the ideal of intimacy. Such people find they can be safely lustful and intemperate only with people they don’t know as well, or care about as much. Recreational sex, pornography, and cybersex all share an element of distance, even anonymity, that avoids the burden of intimacy and makes sexual excitement possible. Clearly, these emotionally disengaged situations are more often found outside the home, where the need for differentiation is less intense. Being with an unavailable partner provides a protective limit—if you can’t get too close to a person, you need not fear entrapment or loss of self. To my thinking, cultivating a sense of ruthlessness in our intimate relationships is an intriguing solution to the problems of desire. While it may appear at first glance to be detached and even uncaring, it is in fact rooted in the love and security of our connection. It is a rare experience of trust to be able to let go completely without guilt or fretfulness, knowing that our relationship is vast enough to withstand the whole of us. We reach a unique intimacy in the erotic encounter. It transcends the civility of the emotional connection and accommodates our unruly impulses and primal appetites. The flint of rubbing bodies gives off a heat not easily achieved through tamer expressions of love. Paradoxically, ruthlessness is a way to achieve closeness. Erotic intimacy invites us into a state of unboundedness where we experience a sweet freedom. We get a temporary break from ourselves—the legacies of our childhood, the habits of our relationship, and the constraints of our respective cultures. Loving another without losing ourselves is the central dilemma of intimacy. Our ability to negotiate the dual needs for connection and autonomy stems from what we learned as children, and often takes a lifetime of practice. It affects not only how we love but also how we make love. Erotic intimacy holds the double promise of finding oneself and losing oneself. It is an experience of merging and of total self-absorption, of mutuality and selfishness. To be inside another and inside ourselves at the same time is a double stance that borders on the mystical. The momentary oneness we feel with our beloved grows out of our ability to acknowledge our indissoluble separateness. In order to be one, you must first be two. 8 ParenthoodWhen Three Threatens Two

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

  REMIGIUS. The disciples then, when they saw Him, knew the Lord; and worshipped Him, bowing their faces to the ground. And He their affectionate and merciful Master, that He might take away all doubtfulness from their hearts, coming to them, strengthened them in their belief; as it follows, And Jesus came and spake to them, saying, All power is given unto me in heaven and in earth. JEROME. Power is given to Him, Who but a little before was crucified, Who was buried, but Who afterwards rose again. BEDE. (ubi sup.) This He speaks not from the Deity coeternal with the Father, but from the Humanity which He took upon Him, according to which He was made a little lower than the Angels. (Heb. 2:9.) CHRYSOLOGUS. (Serm. 80.) The Son of God conveyed to the Son of the Virgin, the God to the Man, the Deity to the Flesh, that which He had ever together with the Father. JEROME. Power is given in heaven and in earth, that He who before reigned in heaven, should now reign on earth by the faith of the believers. REMIGIUS. What the Psalmist says of the Lord at His rising again, Thou madest him to have dominion over the works of thy hands (Ps. 8:6.), this the Lord now says of Himself, All power is given unto me in heaven and in earth. And here it is to be noted, that even before His resurrection the Angels knew that they were subjected to the man Christ. Christ then desiring that it should be also known to men that all power was committed to Him in heaven and in earth, sent preachers to make known the word of life to all nations; whence it follows, Go ye therefore, and teach all nations. BEDE. (‘Beda; in Hom.’ non occ.) He who before His Passion had said, Go not into the way of the Gentiles, (Matt. 10:5.) now, when rising from the dead, says, Go and teach all nations. Hereby let the Jews be put to silence, who say that Christ’s coming is to be for their salvation only. Let the Donatists also blush, who, desiring to confine Christ to one place, have said that He is in Africa only, and not in other countries. JEROME. They first then teach all nations, and when taught dip them in water. For it may not be that the body receive the sacrament of Baptism, unless the soul first receive the truth of the Faith. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, that they whose Godhead is one should be conferred at once, to name this Trinity, being to name One God. CHRYSOLOGUS. (Serm. 80.) Thus all nations are created a second time to salvation by that one and the same Power, which created them to being.

• From Momma and the Meaning of Life (1999)

  Furthermore, therapy becomes more intense, more electric—no individual or group session focusing on the here-and-now is ever dull. Moreover, the here-and-now provides a laboratory, a safe arena, in which a patient can experiment with new behaviors before trying them in the world outside. Even more important than all these benefits, the here-and-now approach also accelerated the development of a deep intimacy between us. Irene’s outward demeanor—frosty, forbidding, supremely competent and confident—kept others from approaching her. This was precisely what happened when I placed her in a six-month therapy group at the time that her husband was dying. Though Irene quickly won the members’ respect and provided considerable help to others, she received little in return. Her air of supreme self-sufficiency told the other group members she needed nothing from them. Only her husband had cut through her formidable demeanor; only he had challenged her and demanded a deep, intimate encounter. And it was only with him that she could weep and give voice to the young lost girl within her. And with Jack’s death she lost that touchstone of intimacy. I knew it was presumptuous, but I wanted to become that touchstone for her. Was I attempting to replace her husband? That’s a crass, shocking question. No, I never thought to do that. But I did aspire to reestablish, for one or two hours a week, an island of intimacy, a place where she could doff her fix-it, supersurgeon state of mind and be openly vulnerable and challenged. Gradually, very gradually, she was able to acknowledge feelings of helplessness and to turn to me for comfort. When her father died not long after her husband, she felt overwhelmed at the thought of flying home for the funeral. She could not bear the idea of facing her Alzheimer’s-stricken mother and seeing her father’s open grave next to her brother’s tombstone. I agreed and strongly advised her not to go. Instead, I scheduled a session at the exact time of the funeral and asked her to bring pictures of her father, and we spent the hour recalling her memories of him. It was a rich, powerful experience, and later Irene thanked me for it. Where was the line between intimacy and seduction? Would she become too dependent on me? Would she ever be able to break away? Would the powerful husband-transference prove irresolvable? That thought nagged at me. But I decided to worry about it later. The here-and-now focus was never difficult to sustain in my work with Irene. She was extraordinarily hardworking and dedicated. Never, not once in all my work with her, did I hear resistant, and expected, comments such as, “This doesn’t make sense. . . . It’s irrelevant. . . . You are not the issue. . . .

• From The Story of My Experiments with Truth (An Autobiography) (1927)

  If all had the same belief about all matters of religion, there would be only one religion in the world, As time progressed I found that the Muslim demand about the Khilafat was not only not against any ethical principle, but that the British Prime Minister had admitted the justice of the Muslim demand. I felt, therefore, bound to render what help I could in securing a due fulfilment of the prime Minister’s pledge. The pledge had been given in such clear terms that the examination of the Muslim demand on the merits was needed only to satisfy my own concience. Friends and critics have criticized my attitude regarding the Khilafat question. In spite of the criticism I feel that I have no reason to revise it or to regret my co-operation with the Muslims. I should adopt the same attitude, should a similar occasion arise. When, therefore, I went to Delhi, I had fully intended to submit the MUslim case to the Viceroy. The Khilafat question had not then assumed the shape it did subsequently. But on my reaching Delhi another difficulty in the way of my attending the conference arose. Dinabandhu Andrews raised a question about the morality of my participation in the war conference. He told me of the controversy in the British press regarding secret treaties between England and Italy. How could I participate in the conference, if England had entered into secret treaties with another European power? asked Mr. Andrews. I knew nothing of the treaties. Dinabandhu Andrews’ word was enough for me. I therefore addressed a letter to Lord Chelmsford explaining my hesitation to take part in the conference. He invited me to discuss the question with him. I had a prolonged discussion with him and his Private Secretary Mr. Maffey. As a result I agreed to take part in the conference. This was in effect the Viceroy’s argument: ‘Surely you do not believe that the Viceroy knows everything done by the British Cabinet. I do not claim, no one claims, that the British Government is infallible. But if you agree that the Empire has been, on the whole, a power for good, if you believe that India has, on the whole, benefited by the British connection, would you not admit that it is the duty of every Indian citizen to help the Empire in the hour of its need? I too have read what the British papers say about the secret treaties. I can assure you that I know nothing beyond what the papers say, and you know the canards that these papers frequently start, Can you, acting on a mere newpapers report, refuse help to the Empire at such a critical juncture? You may raise whatever moral issues you like and challenge us as much as you please after the conclusion of the war, not today.’ The argument was not new.

• From Momma and the Meaning of Life (1999)

  Myrna described the fiery end of her poetry career as a child and her growing wish to write a poem. “This morning when I wrote down my dream, I knew you’d ask about the hole and the tonsils, so I searched for interesting words.” “Sounds like you wanted something from me.” “Interest, I guess. I didn’t want to be boring anymore.” “Your word, not mine. I never said that.” “Still, I’m convinced you feel that way about me.” “I want to come back to that, but first let’s look at something else in the dream—the halo around the doctor.” “The nimbus—yes, it was curious. I guess I’ve got you in the good-guy category now.” “So you think better of me and maybe want to be closer to me, but the dilemma is that if we get close, I might discover shameful things about you: maybe a void inside, maybe something else—explosive rage, self-loathing.” He looked at his watch. “I’m sorry we have to stop. The time has sped by. Again, good hard work today. It’s been good being with you.” *** The hard work continued, solid therapy hours following one upon the other. Week after week, Ernest and Myrna reached new levels of trust. She had never before risked so much of herself; he felt privileged to be a witness to her transformation. It was for such experiences that Ernest had become a psychotherapist. Fourteen weeks after he’d last presented Myrna to the countertransference seminar, he sat at his desk, microphone in hand, and prepared another presentation. “This is Dr. Lash dictating notes for countertransference seminar. In the past fourteen weeks, both my patient and the therapy process have undergone astounding change. It’s as if I can divide therapy into two stages: before and after my ill-advised T-shirt comment. “Only a few minutes ago Myrna left my office, and I was aware of feeling surprised that the hour had passed so quickly. And sorry to see her go. Amazing. She used to bore me. Now she’s a vivacious and engaging person. Haven’t heard a whine in weeks. We banter a lot—she’s so sharp that it’s hard for me to keep up with her. She’s open, introspective, produces interesting dreams, even dabbles in interesting words. No more monologues: she is very conscious of me in the room, and our process has become harmoniously interactive. I look forward to seeing her as much as any other patient—perhaps more. “The sixty-four-dollar question is: How did the T-shirt comment launch this transformation? How to reconstruct and interpret the events of the last fourteen weeks? “Dr. Werner was certain that the T-shirt comment was an egregious error, that it would result in a rupture of the therapeutic alliance. He was dead wrong about that. My thoughtless, insensitive crack turned out to be the pivotal incident of therapy! “But he was right—oh, so right—about the patient’s ability to tune in to the therapist’s countertransference.

• From The Day the Revolution Began (2016)

  As far as he was concerned, as he explains in Romans 6, someone who had been baptized into the Messiah had already died, been buried, and been raised to new life. That had happened to Jesus, and what was true of him was true of his people. That is why (for instance) Martin Luther, the great German Reformer, could say, Baptizatus sum, “I have been baptized!” as his ultimate protection against the power of evil. He had been brought into the protection of Jesus’s victory. That doesn’t mean of course that no harm can come to baptized persons or that they can no longer fall into grievous sin. Part of Paul’s point in that same chapter, Romans 6, is that those who have come into the Messiah’s family must constantly make it real, in thought and deed: “Calculate yourselves as being dead to sin, and alive to God in the Messiah, Jesus,” and “Don’t allow sin to rule in your mortal body” (6:11, 12). A similar warning is given in 1 Corinthians 10:12: “Anyone who reckons they are standing upright should watch out in case they fall over”! Like the Israelites leaving Egypt, just because you have escaped the life of total slavery, that doesn’t mean you won’t have to work hard to translate your newfound freedom into actual life. This brings us to the other major sacrament, the “breaking of bread,” the Lord’s Supper, the Eucharist, or the Mass. (The fact that the church has developed different names for this event is an indication that we all know it’s important and are anxious to interpret it appropriately, but that, like everything to do with Jesus’s death, it remains contested territory.) Paul seems to be aware of the point we made earlier, that Jesus used his final meal with his followers not only as a way of explaining what his forthcoming death would mean, but as a way of enabling them to share in that death, making it quite literally part of their life through eating the bread and drinking the wine. Paul addresses the situation in Corinth, where, as he says in 1 Corinthians 8:5, there were “many gods and many lords,” all doing their best to lure the young Christians away from Jesus. “Whenever you eat this bread and drink this cup,” he says, “you are announcing the Lord’s death until he comes” (11:26). He doesn’t mean that the ceremony of the Lord’s Supper is a good occasion for a sermon on the meaning of Jesus’s death, though no doubt that will sometimes be true as well.

• From The Day the Revolution Began (2016)

  In Israel’s scriptures, to which Paul explicitly appeals in 3:21b (“the law and the prophets bore witness to it”), God’s “righteousness” is not simply God’s status of being morally upright. It is, more specifically, God’s faithfulness to the covenant—the covenant not only with Abraham and Israel, but through Israel to the wider world. The actual phrase “God’s righteousness” itself is rare in the Old Testament, but there are plenty of occurrences of “my righteousness,” “his righteousness,” or “your righteousness” and statements about God doing what is right or being in the right, which point this way, however much they are sometimes obscured by different translations—a problem for which there is no space here. A careful reading through the Psalms and Isaiah 40–55 will make the point. Again and again the meaning of “righteousness” is not simply that God does what is right (though that is of course true as well), but that, as one focused example of this, he is faithful to his covenanted promises, utterly reliable in following through what he said he would do, specifically in relation to the covenant that he made with Israel and through Israel for the world. Of course, in Deuteronomy and the prophets this “faithfulness” can mean, and often does, that God will punish his people if they commit idolatry: the covenant stipulated that this would happen, and when it does (particularly in the exile, seen in Deut. 28–29 as the ultimate consequence of idolatry), it is a sign not of God’s unfaithfulness, but of his faithfulness. Perhaps the most obvious example of all this is Daniel 9, where the divine righteousness is seen at work in both the covenantal punishment of Israel’s sins by exile (vv. 4–14) and then the promised and prayed-for covenant restoration (vv. 15–19). This idea of God being faithful to the covenant clearly seems to be Paul’s meaning here in Romans 3. Within the larger unit of chapters 1–4 as a whole, 3:21–26 is framed more particularly between the argument that starts at 2:17 and the exposition of Genesis 15 in chapter 4. A preliminary glance at both (we will fill in the details presently) will make the point.

• From The First Paul: Reclaiming the Radical Visionary Behind the Church's Conservative Icon (2009)

  Those who believe are blessed with Abraham who believed ” (Gal. 3:7, 9). Believing—faith—is what makes a person a descendant of Abraham, not circumcision. We hasten to add that believing and faith are not about a set of beliefs, but a relationship of commitment and trust. Paul’s point about Abraham is central also to his contrast between justification by “works of the law” versus “through faith in Jesus Christ,” treated more fully in our previous chapter on Romans. We note in passing a rather curious argument that Paul makes about Abraham. He writes that, according to Genesis: God’s promises were made to Abraham and to his offspring; it does not say, ‘And to offsprings,’ as of many; but it says, ‘And to your offspring,’ that is, to one person, who is Christ. (3:16) Paul treats the plural noun “offspring” [“seed” in earlier translations] as if it were a singular noun. We don’t know if Paul thought this would be persuasive, or if he (and his hearers?) smiled at this. In any case, his point was clear: the promise to Abraham carried forward to a singular descendant and thus referred to Christ—and so those who are “in Christ” are heirs to the promise, apart from circumcision. Paul also appeals to the Galatians’ own experience. Right after addressing them as “foolish” and “bewitched,” he reminds them: “It was before your eyes that Jesus Christ was publicly exhibited as crucified” (3:1). Obviously, he did not mean that they were at the crucifixion; he refers to the message he had taught while with them. Then he asks: The only thing I want to learn from you is this: Did you receive the Spirit by doing the works of the law or by believing what you heard? Are you so foolish? Having started with the Spirit, are you now ending with the flesh? Did you experience so much for nothing?—if it really was for nothing. Well then, does God supply you with the Spirit and work miracles among you by your doing the works of the law, or by your believing what you heard? (3:2–5) Paul reminds them that they had experienced the Spirit—the Spirit of God, the Spirit of Christ—prior to their emerging preoccupation with the question of circumcision. They had experienced a Spirit transplant without circumcision—why now the concern with the flesh, with circumcision? All of this is the context for the passage about being “one in Christ,” which we now quote in full (you will recall it from Chapter 4): In Christ Jesus you are all children of God through faith. As many of you as were baptized into Christ have clothed yourself with Christ. There is no longer Jew or Greek [Gentile], there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus. And if you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s offspring, heirs according to the promise.

• From Momma and the Meaning of Life (1999)

  Myrna nodded. “So the dream suggests that you’re seeing a doctor—me—and our work is uncovering some things you don’t want seen, or you don’t want me to see it—a vast emptiness, and tonsils ready to burst and spew something vile. Somehow the scalding red tonsils make me think of just a few minutes ago when all those words burst out of you.” She nodded again. “I’m moved by your bringing in this dream,” Ernest said. “It’s a sign of trust in me and what we’re doing together. It’s good work—real, good work.” He paused. “Now can we talk thesaurus?” Myrna described the fiery end of her poetry career as a child and her growing wish to write a poem. “This morning when I wrote down my dream, I knew you’d ask about the hole and the tonsils, so I searched for interesting words.” “Sounds like you wanted something from me.” “Interest, I guess. I didn’t want to be boring anymore.” “Your word, not mine. I never said that.” “Still, I’m convinced you feel that way about me.” “I want to come back to that, but first let’s look at something else in the dream—the halo around the doctor.” “The nimbus—yes, it was curious. I guess I’ve got you in the good-guy category now.” “So you think better of me and maybe want to be closer to me, but the dilemma is that if we get close, I might discover shameful things about you: maybe a void inside, maybe something else—explosive rage, self-loathing.” He looked at his watch. “I’m sorry we have to stop. The time has sped by. Again, good hard work today. It’s been good being with you.” * ​ * ​ * ​ The hard work continued, solid therapy hours following one upon the other. Week after week, Ernest and Myrna reached new levels of trust. She had never before risked so much of herself; he felt privileged to be a witness to her transformation. It was for such experiences that Ernest had become a psychotherapist. Fourteen weeks after he’d last presented Myrna to the countertransference seminar, he sat at his desk, microphone in hand, and prepared another presentation. “This is Dr. Lash dictating notes for countertransference seminar. In the past fourteen weeks, both my patient and the therapy process have undergone astounding change. It’s as if I can divide therapy into two stages: before and after my ill-advised T-shirt comment. “Only a few minutes ago Myrna left my office, and I was aware of feeling surprised that the hour had passed so quickly. And sorry to see her go. Amazing. She used to bore me. Now she’s a vivacious and engaging person. Haven’t heard a whine in weeks. We banter a lot—she’s so sharp that it’s hard for me to keep up with her. She’s open, introspective, produces interesting dreams, even dabbles in interesting words. No more monologues: she is very conscious of me in the room, and our process has become harmoniously interactive.

• From The Story of My Experiments with Truth (An Autobiography) (1927)

  THE MAGIC SPELL OF A BOOK The black plague enhanced my influence with the poor Indians, and increased my business and my responsibility. Some of the new contacts with Europeans became so close that they added considerably to my moral obligations. I made the acquaintance of Mr.Polak in the vegetarian resturant, just as I had made that of Mr.West. One evening a young man dining at a table a little way off sent me his card expressing a desire to see me. i invited him to come to my table, which he did. ‘I am sub-editor of the The Critic,’ he said ‘When I read your letter to the press about the plague. I felt a strong desire to see you. I am glad to have this opportunity.’ Mr. Polak’s candour drew me to him. The same evening we got to know each other. We seemed to hold closely similar views on the essential things of life. He liked simple life. He had a wonderful faculty of translating into practice anything that appealed to his intellect. Some of the changes that he had made in his life were as prompt as they were radical. Indian Opinion was getting more and more expensive every day. The very first report from Mr. West was alarming. He wrote: ‘I do not expect the concern to yield the profit that you had thought probable. I am afraid there may be even a loss. The books are not in order. There are heavy arrears to be recovered, but one cannot make head or tail of them. Considerable overhauling will have to be done. But all this need not alarm you. I shall try to put things right as best I can. I remain on, whether there is profit or not.’ Mr. West might have left when he discovered that there was no profit, and I

• From The Day the Revolution Began (2016)

  For him it clearly included “belief” in the sense of both trusting in God and believing that God raised Jesus from the dead [4:24–25; 10:9]. But we should not let that sharp focus screen out the wider meanings.) The point about the Messiah’s death, then, is that it demonstrates in action the faithfulness of God to his covenant plan—the plan to rescue the world through Israel, to renew the whole world by giving Abraham a vast, uncountable sin-forgiven family. It was not a matter of Jesus’s persuading God to do something he might not otherwise have done. The Messiah’s death accomplishes what God himself planned to do and said he would do. Somehow, the Messiah’s faithful death constitutes the fulfillment of the Israel-shaped plan. Or, to put it another way (since Paul, like all the early Christians, had thought everything through again in the light of the resurrection), when God called Abraham, he had the Messiah’s cross in mind all along. One place in Israel’s scriptures where that divine plan comes into sharp focus is in Isaiah 53. When Paul sums up his whole train of thought in 4:24–25, he alludes to that chapter. We would therefore be right to assume that that statement of Israel faithfulness, of servant faithfulness, of crucified Messiah faithfulness is in mind throughout chapter 3 as well, and we will presently explore the effect this has on our interpretation. When Paul describes Jesus’s death in 3:24–25, then, we are to see this as the accomplishment of the Israel-shaped purpose—a strange idea, to be sure, but one for which Isaiah 40–55 provides a dark but important advance signpost. As we advance cautiously toward the heart of this little passage, several things are coming into focus. God is faithful to the covenant; and, since the covenant focused on the purpose and promise to rescue the world through Israel, this is what has happened in and through the Messiah, who has offered to God the Israel-shaped obedience, the “faithfulness,” that was previously lacking. Justified by Faith Before we get to our main purpose in looking at this passage—to understand what Paul is saying about the death of Jesus—we must look briefly at the result of this display of divine covenant faithfulness. All who believe, Paul declares, are “justified.” The double context we have noted all along (as in “God’s covenant justice”) provides the closely intertwined double meaning of this famous though difficult notion. On the one hand, all who believe are declared to be members of Abraham’s family, just as, for instance, in Galatians 3:29. “Justification” is the covenant declaration , establishing in a single family all who share the messianic pistis .

• From The Day the Revolution Began (2016)

  And this mercy involves God’s being true to himself, his own character, purposes, and promises. But throughout the Second Temple period the divine covenant faithfulness was seen in a double light. This was summarized in Daniel 9, but it goes back, through many generations, texts, and traditions, to Deuteronomy 27–32, a passage to which Paul returns not least in the later exposition of the divine faithfulness in Romans 9–11. Faced with Israel’s idolatry, God’s covenant faithfulness would require him to let Israel reap the consequences, which would mean exile. But that same divine faithfulness would then mean restoration. And this coming restoration, the liberation from oppressive pagan powers, would be the new Exodus. The original Exodus was the fulfillment of God’s promises to Abraham (Gen. 15:13–16), so the renewal of the covenant would mean the newer, greater Exodus, this time involving the forgiveness of sins. That, famously, is the emphasis of Jeremiah 31:31–34, and also of Isaiah 40–55, to which we shall presently return. The framework for these six crucial verses is therefore set. The events concerning Jesus unveil and display the covenant faithfulness of Israel’s God. The scriptures themselves and the surrounding context in Romans indicate that this will mean God’s dealing with idolatry and sin and fulfilling his Israel-shaped purpose for the world. This, in outline, is what Paul thinks he is saying in this passage. The Messiah’s Faithfulness to God’s Purpose for Israel The Israel-shaped purpose, to which Israel itself had been faithless, has been fulfilled in the Messiah himself. That is the point of Romans 3:22, and this is why I take the contested phrase pistis Christou here (and often elsewhere) in the sense of the “Messiah’s faithfulness.” Thus I read v. 22 as saying, “God’s covenant justice comes into operation through the faithfulness of Jesus the Messiah for the benefit of all who have faith.” This answers exactly to the sequence of thought in 3:1–5. Israel’s privilege was to be entrusted with the divine oracles; that is a way of summing up the vocation spelled out in 2:19–20. But Israel had been “faithless” to that commission , putting in question the divine “faithfulness” (3:3) and the divine “truthfulness” (3:4); but God will be seen to be dikaios , true to his covenant justice, despite it all (3:4b–5). God will not change his plan. The Messiah, Israel’s representative, will complete Israel’s role. This is one reason, perhaps the most important one, why the badge of membership in the new covenant family is pistis , “faith” or “faithfulness”: it is the sign of Messiah people. (We should note that in Paul’s world the word pistis regularly carried associations of “fidelity,” “loyalty,” and similar ideas.

• From The Day the Revolution Began (2016)

  It reaches a first decisive climax in chapter 12, when Herod Agrippa I begins a serious attack on the church but is forestalled, first by Peter’s angelic release from prison and then by his own sudden death. Luke’s comment makes the position clear: Herod died, “but God’s word grew and multiplied” (Acts 12:24). Here is the vital note of kingdom: the kingdoms of the world turn out to be, in ultimate terms, powerless against the kingdom of God. They can persecute and kill Jesus’s followers, but this—as other New Testament writers were quick to emphasize, following Jesus himself—only strengthened the kingdom of God, since that kingdom was accomplished precisely through Jesus’s death and then implemented through the suffering of his followers. Thus, throughout Paul’s career, we find him living boldly in the faith that Jesus is Lord and that the local and international rulers and magistrates are ultimately under his command. This, indeed, is part of the foundation of Paul’s mission to the Gentiles: the “powers” that had ruled the pagan world had been overthrown, defeated on the cross, as he hints in 1 Corinthians 2:8 and states clearly in Colossians 2:13–15, so now people who had formerly been enslaved could be summoned to allegiance to the new, liberating rule of Israel’s Messiah. That did not prevent Paul from being beaten, driven out of town, imprisoned, or even stoned. That isn’t how the kingdom works, as Jesus himself repeatedly warned (or promised!). The last great narrative sequence in Acts, Paul’s trials, his journey to Rome and the shipwreck, and his final arrival, is told in such a way as to highlight the paradoxical nature of the kingdom: the powers of the world, whether they are corrupt magistrates, casually brutal soldiers, incompetent sailors, storms at sea, or even deadly serpents, cannot prevent Paul from arriving in Rome and, though under house arrest, announcing the kingdom of God and teaching about Jesus as Lord “with all boldness, and with no one stopping him” (28:31). All this, I suggest, is Luke’s way of saying that with the death, resurrection, and exaltation of Israel’s Messiah and with the powerful gift of the Spirit, God’s world has been renewed, the kingdom has been inaugurated, and those who believe in Jesus and who are indwelt by the Spirit are now formed as a royal priesthood, who in their worship and their witness are carrying forward the work of the kingdom. The decisive victory against the powers has already been won. The revolution has already begun.

• From Martin Luther (2016)

  An early portrait of 1509 shows Spalatin with delec- table curls, dressed in a simple grey gown with a black lining which combines academic reserve with courtly display. A woodcut from 1515 depicts a serious young man in sober garb, meditating on the Cross. But Spalatin was not a courtier by birth. His father was a tanner, and he came from Spalt near Nuremberg. One of the ‘new men’, he had risen through education. He joined the court but knew that, as a - commoner, he was not an aristocrat’s equal; there was also specula- tion that he may have been illegitimate. While he was a trusted servant and important advisor — and on occasion intimate enough to be present when the Elector did his toilette before dinner — he was not invited to join the table afterwards.* Spalatin seems to have had a sure touch for negotiation and manoeuvre, a grasp of the possible and a sense of realism which Luther lacked. Like Luther he was educated in Greek as well as Latin, and he became part of the humanist circles around Conrad Mutian and Nikolaus Marschalk at the University of Erfurt. He did not possess Luther’s abrasive self-confidence, and was a poor speaker. But the two men formed a hugely creative partnership. Spalatin bought books for the university library and supported university reforms that brought in biblical studies and those of the Church Fathers. Together they made a series of brilliant appointments, of whom Melanchthon was the star. Repeatedly Luther would recommend people to Spalatin, asking for small favours, pensions from Friedrich or seeking posts for them. Spalatin worked tirelessly in the service of the Elector, often late into the night; he nevertheless found time to translate Luther’s Latin works into German, and did so with a fine musical sense.? We have just Luther’s side of the friendship, because it is only his letters that have survived — carefully catalogued and reverentially THE DIET OF WORMS 175 34. Lucas Cranach the Elder, Georg Spalatin Honouring the Cross, 1515. annotated, often in Greek, by Spalatin.° As the sheer number of Luther’s letter indicates — over 400 — this was perhaps the central rela- tionship in his life in between 1518 and 1525: he wrote more letters to Spalatin than to anyone else, even though they saw each other regularly.