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This chapter examines changes in the religious culture of Scottish towns between 1350 and 1560 that were not early Protestant or crypto-Protestant or even proto-Protestant, but rather Catholic. Sections on new devotional and educational approaches, the Council of Trent, public worship, and social discipline together portray a religious culture that was dynamic and responsive to international trends. In placing this religious culture of Scottish towns in the context of wider European currents, it becomes clear that urban Scots were participating in a deep social movement into early modernism. Since reforming momentum in Scotland began in an early modern Catholic environment and before the official Protestant Reformation, it may be necessary to reconsider an important question of causation in Scottish history: what the role of the Protestant Reformation was in bringing about social change. Specific social changes often thought to be the result of the Protestant Reformation in Scotland actually started before the Protestant Reformation, and therefore the Protestant Reformation cannot have been their trigger. Instead, it may be the case that the social changes described in this chapter and arising in a Catholic context actually helped ease the adoption of Protestantism in Scottish towns.
Against the near-universal consensus that it was created by a pagan (non-Christian) in order to satirise Christian worship, this article contends that the Alexamenos graffito can plausibly be read as a Christian self-parody, created by the enslaved Alexamenos himself. It is the first full-length treatment of the authorial origins of the Alexamenos graffito. The article first provides an overview of the visual and scholarly histories of the image since the nineteenth century. Then it addresses evidence for and against reading the text as non-Christian or Christian in origin, focusing on the apparent sexualisation of Jesus, early Christian receptions of satirical depictions of Jesus, the graffito’s use of a titulus, the solidarity of the image with enslaved workers and the relevance of nearby Christian graffiti. Finally, it places the graffito in conversation with ancient self-parody practices from wider Greek, Roman and Christian sources. While it is impossible to argue definitively about the identity of the graffito’s creator, this article contends that scholarship cannot exclude the possibility and potential likelihood that it may be Christian in origin.
This article develops the position of Rebekah Eklund’s earlier NTS article on ἀνοία in Luke 6.11. Eklund argues that there is no basis for translating ἄνοια in Luke 6.11 as rage or fury. Instead, she shows that ἄνοια is used consistently to indicate folly that is either induced by madness or ignorance. This article offers a reading of the healing of the man with the withered hand in Luke 6.6–11 that provides a more congenial context for the conventional way of reading ἀνοία as madness-induced folly.
This chapter investigates people’s preparations for their own deaths and their sense of responsibility toward those who had already died. Although they sometimes feared death, people did not despair, for they also believed that death was not the end of a person: while the body was part of this world and therefore material and apt to decay, the soul was eternal. With sections on the fear of death, the idea of a ‘good death’, and the importance of remembrance, this chapter shows that Scottish townspeople made arrangements for their own souls to pass as painlessly as possible into a blessed eternity, and that they attended to the souls of those already deceased, especially to the souls of their blood kin and their civic brethren.
This introduction begins with the description of a bell that was installed at the parish church of St Giles, Edinburgh in about 1460. It uses various features of the St Giles bell as entry-points into the historical context of the book’s subject, including towns in Scotland (their populations, their political hierarchy, their economies, their physical layout); the structure of Scottish Church (similarities to and differences from the Church in other parts of Europe); and a brief historiography of religion in Europe generally and Scotland in particular. It then outlines the scope and structure of the book, which is taken from the Latin inscription on the bell’s surface: ‘defunctos plango: vivos voco: fulmina frango’, which translates into ‘I lament the dead, I summon the living, I subdue thunderbolts’.
This chapter examines the reciprocal relationship between the living and the dead in Scottish towns by considering how the dead were thought to intervene in the world of the living both by making material claims and also by providing supernatural intercession. The dead, whether sainted or not, maintained a physical and a metaphysical presence in Scottish towns. Their bodies lay under and immediately around the main centres of religious activity, and their names – for a price – were remembered from year to year through commemorative masses, charters, and even inscriptions on church furnishings. Through both burial and remembrance the dead remained present in Scottish towns, enmeshed still within networks of kin, class, and occupation, as they had been during life. Of these networks, the most important for many people was that of their kin. The bond of kinship brought the responsibility of remembrance, since it was kin to whom the dead called, through their religious foundations, for help in the afterlife.
This chapter examines Scottish townspeople’s personal and private religious practices by considering religious exclusion, private devotion, personal donations to religious institutions, and the case study of Jonet Rynd’s foundation of the Magdalen Chapel and Hospital in Edinburgh. It argues that people often personalized their religious practices to suit individual circumstances, with many of the wealthier inhabitants of Scottish towns taking a growing interest in individualized, private religious experience, but that the trend of individualization evident in the fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries ought not to be used simplistically as evidence for a breakdown in corporate Christianity of the kind discussed in Chapter 3; rather, inhabitants of Scottish towns joined their individual welfare to that of the wider society so that personal efforts and communal forms of devotion converged in pursuit of salvation. The personal and the particular were important for many in the towns of Scotland, but individual religious responsibility was undertaken in the context of the wider religious society and individuals could establish their own personal religious priorities while remaining connected to others within corporate religious structures.
While faith is central to the Gospel of John, the focus of interpreters on the faith responses of John’s characters tends to regard these characters rather simplistically. This article considers Martha’s engagement with Jesus in John 11 and contends that her faith takes a journey of lament as she comes to a place of understanding Jesus’ person. Martha speaks with Jesus regarding Lazarus’ death, and Israel’s lament poems frame the depth found in the progression of their conversation, which serves a rhetorical purpose that provides dynamic depth to her character. Grounded in the work of Gail R. O’Day that traces Martha’s conversation within the lament structure, this article examines this interaction that leads to the pinnacle of Johannine confessions to the identity of Jesus made by Martha herself. The process of lament as the expression of Martha’s faith develops John’s resurrection theology, given that her faith and understanding are clarified by Jesus’ identification as the resurrection and the life. This disclosure is what leads to Martha’s paradigmatic confession in 11.27. Building on previous characterisations of Martha by scholars such as Adeline Fehribach, Colleen M. Conway, Sandra M. Schneiders and Cornelis Bennema, a fresh perspective emerges that engages Martha’s conversation and ensuing confession, and the contribution this makes to the Johannine theology of resurrection. Lament is significant in the context of faith in John’s portrayal of Martha and suggests more depth in Fourth Gospel characterisation than many interpretations have recognised.
Since the fall of communist systems across Central and Eastern Europe in the late twentieth century, Slavic Native Faith has matured as a religious movement across the region. This diverse movement is comprised of many local and national forms bearing a variety of names, including Rodnoverie and Ridnovirstvo. They all share a primary emphasis on Slavic identity and cherish nativeness as a sacred value. This Element examines who the adherents of Slavic Native Faith are and what they believe. It looks at why these groups continue to grow, evolve, and develop in the twenty-first century, with communities generally becoming more representative of the population at large. Increasingly they find themselves as significant participants in the societies they inhabit, still marginal and small, but visible in the arts and popular culture. Case studies from a dozen different nations demonstrate both differences and similarities within this expanding movement.
Muslim Americans are running for and being elected to political office at record levels. Despite this trend, the literature on minority candidate emergence has yet to examine which district factors affect the likelihood of Muslim Americans running and winning their races. What district characteristics influence the emergence of Muslim American candidates, and how do voters respond when they appear on the ballot? Through examining state legislative candidates, I find that Muslim Americans are less likely to emerge in districts with a high white population share and that lean conservative. Overall, Muslim American candidates are less likely to win compared to non-Muslim Americans. However, Muslim Americans are far more likely to emerge as candidates and win in districts with a high Muslim population share. These results demonstrate that Muslim American candidates face supply-side barriers to running and electoral penalties that can be alleviated by high Muslim population shares in districts.
2025 sees the thirtieth anniversary of Revd Auntie Lenore Parker’s ‘God of Holy Dreaming’ being included in the Anglican Prayer Book for Australia. In this article, she explores and describes the dreaming process which birthed this prayer. The analysis which follows compares the value of dreams in aboriginal culture with the privileged place given to dreams and visions as altered states of consciousness in the foundational texts of emerging Christianity. This comparison raises the question of how such experiences may be valued within Christian theology and spirituality, not least because Western and Northern resistance to such phenomena in the modern period has made such visions seem suspect.
A convenience sample of 2874 clergy and lay people from the Church of England was asked about the state of their congregation in 2024, some 3 years after the end of lockdown restrictions imposed during the COVID-19 pandemic. Perceptions were assessed by three distinct but correlated scales, one related to perceived changes in numbers, the second to the fragility of churches and the third to the general state of churches in terms of numbers, mood and finances. Scores on these scales were related to both subjective and objective factors. The main subjective predictor of pessimistic scores was emotional volatility, a measure of trait neuroticism. The main objective predictors were church tradition and congregation size. Evangelicals were generally more optimistic compared with those from Anglo-Catholic or Broad-Church traditions. Pessimism declined as congregation size increased, up to about 150, when it remained constant.