The Gāϑās of Zaraϑuštra provide us with the Old Avestan attestations of the adjectives mauuaṇt-, ϑβāuuaṇt- and xšmāuuaṇt-/yūšmāuuaṇt-. The adjective mauuaṇt- occurs twice in the Gāϑās, while ϑβāuuaṇt- occurs five times and xšmāuuaṇt-/yūšmāuuaṇt- occurs seven times. Over the years, little effort has been put into studying the broader context in which these words are situated or into understanding the specific use and significance of these words in the Gāϑās. The basis for their translation has mostly been exogenous, with the early Avestan scholars using the readily available meanings of the Vedic equivalents mā́vat-, tvā́vat- and yuṣmā́vat- for this purpose. In contrast, this article endeavours to understand the meaning and significance of the words mauuaṇt-, ϑβāuuaṇt- and xšmāuuaṇt-/yūšmāuuaṇt- in the context of Zoroastrian theology. It further seeks to examine the morphological basis of their meaning, to offer updated translation options for them and to situate these updated translations into the Gāϑic stanzas in which they occur.

German sociologist Ulrich Beck writes that Japan has become part of the ‘World Risk Society’ as a result of the 2011 nuclear accident in Fukushima. By World Risk Society he means a society threatened by such things as nuclear accidents, climate change, and the global financial crisis, presenting a catastrophic risk beyond geographical, temporal, national and social boundaries. According to Beck, such risk is an unfortunate by-product of modernity, and poses entirely new challenges to our existing institutions, which attempt to control it using current, known means. As Gavan McCormack points out, ‘Japan, as one of the most successful capitalist countries in history, represents in concentrated form problems facing contemporary industrial civilization as a whole’. The nuclear, social, and institutional predicaments it now faces epitomise the negative consequences of intensive modernisation.

The 2011 tsunami and nuclear disaster at Fukushima has encouraged comparisons in many quarters with the tragic experience of Minamata more than 55 years earlier, when mercury-poisoned industrial runoff caused widespread illness and death in the human and animal populations. Rather than viewing these disasters as the unfortunate side effects of modern industrial capitalism (to be addressed, in the capitalist view, with financial compensation) Yoneyama Shoko draws on Minamata victim's advocate Ogata Masato to imagine a more humane and life-affirming vision of our obligations to one another. In crafting his response to the Chisso Corporation and the Japanese government, Ogata (who eschewed financial compensation) drew on elements of the popular Japanese religious heritage to affirm an ethos of interdependence and the responsibility that follows. This can be seen, for example, in Ogata's use of the term tsumi, an indigenous Japanese category of ritual impurity that encompasses both physical pollution and moral transgression. Combining notions of “defilement” and of “sin,” tsumi is a principle that (as Brian Victoria notes) has justified some in shunning the victims of chemical or radioactive contamination. Ogata, however, employs the traditional imagery of tsumi to describe, not the victims of pollution but its perpetrators, thereby presenting ecological damage as a profoundly moral matter, one that cannot be reduced to economic impacts or financial compensation.

Issues we are confronted with in the age of the Anthropocene, such as climate change, extinction, and the coronavirus pandemic demand a fundamental rethink of human-nature relationships, but at the same time we are faced with a ‘crisis of imagination’, which is highlighted by the paucity of stories or narratives that enable us to fully engage with these issues. We have a ‘climate crisis’ as well as a ‘crisis of culture’ and both derive from the same source: epistemological limitations in the paradigm of modernity. The most problematic limitation is the fact that our social scientific knowledge has blind spots when it comes to nature and spirituality which makes it almost impossible for us to rethink human-nature relationships in a meaningful way. Miyazaki Hayao and Shinkai Makoto, however, directly illuminate these blind spots by making nature and spirituality central features in their animation films. This opens up new epistemological and ontological spaces in the hearts and minds of a global audience, making it possible to imagine something new. And that ‘something new’ is ‘postmodern animism’ which emerged from the fusion of a critique of modernity with the intangible cultural heritage of grassroots Japan. Postmodern animism is a philosophy that sees nature as a combination of the life-world and the spiritual-world thus enabling us to engage with climate change and the COVID-19 pandemic in a radically different way. It helps us to conceive a new paradigm that is more suitable for the Anthropocene.

Teaching death, spirituality, and palliative care equips students with critical skills and perspectives for holistic patient care. This interdisciplinary approach fosters empathy, resilience, and personal growth while enhancing competence in end-of-life care. Using experiential methods like simulations and real patient interactions, educators bridge theory and practice. Integrating theological insights and inclusive-pluralism encourages meaningful dialogue, preparing students to address patients’ physical, emotional, and spiritual needs. This holistic pedagogy not only improves patient outcomes but also promotes collaboration and compassion in healthcare.

Moral injury is the profound psychological distress that can arise from exposure to extreme events that violate an individual’s moral or ethical code; for example, participating in, witnessing, or being subjected to behaviours that harm, betray or fail to help others. Given that the experience of moral transgression is inherent to moral injury-related post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), it is important to consider patients’ religious beliefs and formulate how these may interact with their distress. In this article we describe how to adapt cognitive therapy for PTSD (CT-PTSD) to treat patients presenting with moral injury-related PTSD, who identify as religious. Anonymised case examples are presented to illustrate how to adapt CT-PTSD to integrate patient’s religious beliefs and address moral conflicts and transgressions. Practical and reflective considerations are also discussed, including how a therapist’s personal beliefs may interact with how they position themselves in the work.

Key learning aims

1. (1) To understand the importance of patients’ religious beliefs in the context of moral injury-related distress.

2. (2) To understand how patients’ religious beliefs can be integrated into Ehlers and Clark’s (2000) model when working with moral injury-related PTSD.

3. (3) To offer practical adaptations for CT-PTSD to integrate patients’ religious beliefs and practices, including how to set up a consultation with a religious expert in therapy.

4. (4) To aid therapist reflection on how their personal beliefs interact with how they position themselves in therapeutic work with religious patients.

How do invocations of history inform speculative discourses in Western astrology? This article examines how events from the recorded past factor into predictive forecasts among professional astrologers for whom celestial patterns are indicative of shifting and evolving world-historical trends. Drawing on examples from prominent voices in the North American astrology community, across a range of commercial and social media platforms, I outline the parameters of what I call “astrological historicity,” a temporal orientation guided by archetypal principles closely associated with New Age metaphysics and psychodynamic theories of the self. I argue that while such sensibilities reinforce an ethos of therapeutic spirituality, they are not so narrowly individualistic as to preclude social and political considerations. Astrological historicity is at times a vehicle for culturally resonant expressions of historical consciousness, including critical awareness of historical legacies of racial and social injustice that directly link the past to the present and foreseeable future. Furthermore, while astrological accounts of history emulate aspects of modern historicism, including its orientation toward linear temporality and developmental themes, they rely on a nonlinear framework predicated on recurring cycles, correspondences, and synchronicities, bringing a complex heterotemporality to bear on world-historical circumstances. In seeking to understand the moral and political entailments of this area of occult knowledge production, this article aims to shed light on astrology’s cultural appeal not just as popular entertainment, spirituality, or therapy, but as an intellectual and cultural resource for many people searching for ways to express their frustration and disillusionment with reigning political-economic systems and authorities.