Earlham College
Second Charles Lecture
by Richard Davis, Professor of Religion
October 2000
View from Below: Honor and Shame in the Gospel of Mark
IntroductionWhen I began to work on these lectures, my primary interest was in the healing of shame. My own discovery of shame, as I described it in the first lecture, was a painful personal experience. I both wanted to learn how to avoid repeating that experience of depression and shame, and to learn enough from it to help others suffering from similar pain.
As I read psychologists, sociologists, anthropologists, neurophysiologists, philosophers, classical scholars, biblical scholars and historians on shame, I learned that I was like a person who had suffered a bad fall and set out to find a cure for gravity. Gravity did make it certain that under some circumstances I would fall, but it also made it possible for me to stand up and walk again.
I have not found a cure for gravity. In the third lecture I want to explore this theme of shame as social gravity. But in today's lecture I intend to focus on my original interest, the healing of shame. I want to look at what happens when social bonds are broken, or refused, when the members of a society at its lowest levels are cut off from their companions and no longer regarded as kin.
The uniqueness of the gospel of Mark in its time is that it described its world, as it were, from below, from the viewpoint of those who lived in a condition of virtually permanent shame, or, at least, humiliation. Taking a cue from Erich Auerbach's classic study of realism in literature, I have called this lecture "Views from Below: Honor and Shame in the Gospel of Mark." Rather than a cure for gravity, this lecture offers a view from the viewpoint of the fallen, from the ground up.
Part One: Jesus Addresses the Shamed
Mark 2:1-12 Paralytic
This story I see through the eyes of a dear friend. Struck by a car on an icy New York street, they thought he might never walk again. After extensive rehab, the power to walk did return, but he could never run or play the organ as before. The experience of that for him was a profound sense of shame, even though the accident was in no way his fault. Though only then in his mid-twenties, for several months he felt like, and was, an invalid, in-valid. Moreover, in Mark's story, the paralytic is displayed helpless in public - the last place a person with that disability wants to be. Again, socially, the burden of paralysis, or being bent, or deformed, or even having a pimply face, is the experience of shame-and often that includes being a burden on others. (Paralysis is a wonderful metaphor for a shame ailment.)
What a remarkable scene! It has been lionized in art. Jesus, near Nazareth, at the home of a patron, before supper is playing to a packed house. Suddenly, the roof begins to crack. Bits of plaster are falling. The Greek is quite strong, they "unroofed the roof," making a hole big enough to let down a grown man. Now there is debris everywhere. The roof is no longer up to code, and the patron's dinner is ruined. What if one of the holders fell? Does the crowd laugh or stampede? Incidentally, this breaking and entering is not an isolated thing. At several places in Mark when people believe themselves close to the source of power, they break all social conventions and do outrageous things.
Then we hear Jesus, "Your sins are forgiven." What sins? Is this a missed diagnosis? Partly, to our deeds oriented ears it makes sense. The assumption we read back into sin is guilt. "I did wrong, and I am being punished." Good people are supposed to be rewarded. Rich people are rich because they are good.
It is likely that this paralytic shared that view. But Jesus turns this logic upside down. In John's gospel, and regarding a blind person, people ask Jesus, "Who sinned, this man or his parents?" (That is, which one caused the blindness.) Jesus replies, "neither." If Jesus does not think paralysis is related to bad deeds, he must have another definition of sin and its overcoming than the interrogators supposed. In looking at Genesis 3 in my last lecture we saw sin inaugurated. It was the act of accepting the serpent's challenge to 'be like gods, knowing good and evil'. The challenge is about status, prestige, lust for power, control. It can appear in the form of demanding that things really be just as I wish to see them. In being healed the paralytic has let go his view of the situation, and trusted that Jesus can offer him God's acceptance.
For Jesus, the basic concept of forgiveness is "letting go" - not clinging to that which cripples. Jesus' response is that of a "traditional healer" in his culture. He first treats the breach which the paralytics' beliefs and his illness created: forgiveness first is about restoration to his place in the community and only then about the disease itself.
Jesus greets the man tenderly, "My child. He welcomes the man (a primary mark of the New Realm Jesus inaugurates), treating him with warmth and recognition. Some texts record Jesus saying, "My son . . . " Then, again in public, he invites the man to do, in a way what he has already done in trusting himself to be lowered, "Rise, pick up your stretcher and walk." And the paralytic is restored.
Mark 5:25-34 Hemorrhage and Courage
...a great throng followed Jesus, and they were crowding against him. There was a woman who had been bleeding for twelve years, and had been treated in many ways by many physicians, and had spent all that she had, and got no benefit but rather got worse; she had heard about Jesus, and she came up behind him in the crowd and touched his mantle; for she said to herself: If I touch only his mantle I shall be healed. And immediately the source of her flow of blood dried up, and she knew in her body that she had been healed of her affliction. Immediately Jesus felt in himself that power had gone forth from him, and he turned about and said: Who touched my mantle? His disciples said to him: Do you see the throng that is crowding upon you, and yet do you ask: Who touched me? And he looked around to see who had done it. And the woman, in fear and trembling, knowing what had happened to her, threw herself down before him and told him the whole truth. He said to her: My daughter, your faith has saved you; go in peace and be healed of your affliction. [Lattimore translation]
This woman: the hospitals and clinics love to see her coming, and Mark goes out of his way to tell us that for twelve years they have taken all she has. To make matters worse, this woman is an untouchable, like a leper; she contaminates Jesus by her touch. Why the contamination? According to law she is unclean. Her bleeding prevents her from worshiping in the Temple and she will pollute anyone who sits in a chair she has used.
Now to the first hearers of this story, at least three things are shocking or surprising:
Matthew 5:43-48 Love Your Enemies
Love of enemies stands as one of Jesus' most important and controversial teachings. In fact, what counts as proper behavior toward enemies was an important moral question and had been a matter of some debate for centuries. For example, in Plato's Republic the young man Polemarchus supports the prevailing opinion: 'The right thing to do is to help out your friends and do harm to your enemies." Socrates immediately counters Polemarchus. 'What if you mistake a friend for an enemy? If you injure someone, don't you also damage him as a human being, perhaps even ruin his moral sense?" Jesus' view, though not unique, is a minority voice. Here is the rest of the text.: You have heard that it was said, You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy. But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous. (Matthew 5:43-48 NRSV)Well, how do we react to the fact that "God sends rain on the just and the unjust"? (See Job 38:25ff). For some it means that god is blind! Or indifferent, possibly unjust . . . or simply cannot do anything about it.
Here, Jesus' move is striking. What he sees in the rain falling is a kind of cosmic generosity. The implication for those for whom God is the source of life is that they should extend the same generosity to those to whom God has offered it! Of course this cuts through a whole history of enemy-making, as well as our distinctions about what and who are worthy ones, the beautiful people, and who are the outcasts, the untouchables. In our haste to embrace the most recently identified untouchable the danger is that we are making a new list of untouchables. Anxious to find ourselves among the good, we withhold our sun and rain from the rest.
Jesus' interpretation here, as well, changes radically the meaning of the last sentence in the text. Often it is translated, "You must be perfect, as your heavenly father is perfect." This is one of those moral slogans we find at the bottom of a given month on calendars, etc. -and over which people beat up on themselves and others. "Be Perfect." Wow, what a recipe for shame!
In fact, a better translation, based on what we have seen of the context, might be, be unconditional . . . that is, love without conditions. Certainly this is a challenge: to try to be all inclusive in one's love. In his Homilies on the First Letter of John Augustine ties together this call for perfection and the command to love our enemies. He first cites Matthew 5:44ff. , which we are considering too, then concludes, "Thus the perfection to which God calls us is that of loving our enemies as he has loved his own . . . " (9.3) What is unconditional in this love is that it doesn't impose its own view of how things are, or of what is right, as a precondition for living together. Instead it offers, like sunshine and rain, the basic resources for life. An early Christian hymn, which Paul knew, (Philippians 2:6-7) said of Jesus:
In form he was like God Jesus became, for the early communities which followed his example, the giver of a new kind of life, lived in the confidence that life together had enduring significance, that death did not bring it to an end. The love which they saw manifested in Jesus' refusal to dominate became the life-giving spirit of the new community.
But he would not seize on being God's equal.
He impoverished himself
And took on himself the form of a slave.
Matthew 5:38-42 Resisting Evil/Loving Enemies
[Indicate debt to Walter Wink]
Just right off the top, how would you respond to this advice? Well, it is not very practical, and it is a kind of exaggeration. For others, "cheek turning" and "go the second mile" are like the import of the Good Samaritan. They mean, "do more than your share." Yet, do not the sayings turn people into doormats in the process? "Love your enemies." "Do not resist one who is evil." Certainly these are among the most difficult teachings Jesus gave.
One key to understanding these texts comes from examining the Greek phrase mê antistênai. It made sense for King James' translators in 1611 to render it "resist not." That implies that people have only two options: either a person fights or sits back quietly. Since most do not really want to fight, these teachings served to keep people in their place and to keep the monarchy intact. On this view, also, Jesus teaches that submission is the will of God.
In fact, the Greek text does not support these conclusions. Nor is it true that Jesus teaches submission. The phrase mê antistênai has a range of meanings. These include, "Do not respond in kind to evil, do not let evil dictate the terms of your action." One paraphrase, in the Good News Bible, reads, "Do not take revenge on someone who harms you." Indeed, this is a long way from the passivity of "resist not."
Let us examine more closely the examples Jesus gives. "If someone strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the left as well." This is quite specific. In that right-handed society, if you hit a person with your fist, the blow would land on the person's left cheek. So what is this, hitting on the right cheek?
[Role play: two students]
Ah, so it is a backhand blow? And what is that? It is a slap: to insult, humiliate, and shame. In that culture, it was how people in authority related to "inferiors." It is delivered by masters to slaves, Romans to Jews, husbands to wives, parents to children.
This picture makes a great deal of sense if we consider the crowd which sought out Jesus: from the bottom of society, on the down side of race, religion, class, and gender. The people of Palestine had been humiliated by three centuries of Greek and Roman military occupation. What about this turning the other cheek. Does it mean receiving and accepting further humiliation? Not so, I think. Let us consider your options. If you fight back, you will be beaten or disciplined. On the other hand, you can stand passively, and painfully, and accept the shaming. Turning the left cheek, here, is a reversal. It is to initiate action and to force the person in power to respond. For just a moment, caught off guard, he thinks: "What is this? What's happening here?" If he hits you with his fist (which the left cheek invites), the whole relationship changes. It is a fight, peer against peer.
Jesus' moral imagination wants to rob tyrants of the capacity to shame and to define their victims. It says, do not take the insult to heart. It is in this sense that Wink speaks of "Jesus' Third Way" - it is a way beyond fight or flight, beyond the paralysis of shame. The' third way' is an active, yet non-violent, approach to conflict, from the underside. Now, too often people have tried to turn this teaching into a ironclad moral rule, to say that it is always appropriate, even that it always works. No, Jesus is not proposing, for example, in a situation of domestic violence, that a woman 'turn the other cheek'. Nor that, if she, does, she will prevent more violence. But he is trying to find ways to take the initiative from the aggressor, to break his habits of unreflective violence. But this requires breaking the submissive habits of the underdog, too.
"If anyone would sue you and take your coat, let him have your cloak as well'. The second example's meaning depends entirely on its historical context. Rampant indebtedness plagued Palestine. The poorest of the poor -and you will find this hard to believe - had only two garments, an outer cloak and an inner coat. That"s right, no Jim Palmer and Haines briefs! Many had to use their cloak as collateral. The situation was so common, that there was provision for it in Hebrew law:
What are your responses? "I felt he had gone too far . . . Look at that: why, they are even taking the poor man's pants." Even the creditor might feel embarrassed, and again, as with the cheek-slapper, for just a moment he might see. Maybe the most important response, though, is laughter -and my guess is that that would have happened when Jesus told the story. Many of his hearers would have, as we say, been there, done that. It heaps a kind of ridicule on the creditor. It cuts him down to size. Also, there is a kind of clowning in Jesus' example. What is the point? The ability to laugh at oneself and with others is probably the single most powerful antidote to shame. With the example, again, Jesus is trying to enable the powerless - his audience - to find some way to exercise initiative and not be dehumanized.
Did this ever actually happen? Stripping naked? In a way it does not matter. In the very telling of the story Jesus might have awakened laughter, which leads to courage and self-respect.
Frequently people ask, "But is it not wrong to embarrass that lender?" It is a good question. My own view is that it is important not to confuse Jesus' compassion with "being nice." Confronting persons may be necessary for transformation.
Part Three: Jesus and the Disciples - Honor and Shame
Mark's culture is steeped in the feelings and the strategies of honor and shame. Honor and shame were the codes for evaluating persons and institutions. And Mark expects us to know that this is a society where individuals and groups are in a contest for status, prestige, and greatness. It is, as anthropologists would say, an agonistic, or contest culture. Now, from the perspective of the authorities, Jesus has no status or role which demands that they honor him. He is a peasant. As readers of Mark we know, from Jesus' baptism, that God has called him in a special way. That is the source of Jesus' honor. But Mark goes on to show us that Jesus must come to understand what that honor involves. Against the anticipations of his society, against his own hopes, in this case honor leads to the most shameful end, death on a cross.
Of the first half of Mark, and regarding honor, two things concern us here:
First, Jesus' encounters with the authorities, with their pattern of challenging, often hostile, questions, and clever, sometimes evasive answers, almost always in front of a crowd, are about honor. Scribes, priests, Pharisees seek to diminish Jesus' standing with the crowd. Mark depicts a Jesus who gains respect by his agile and clever retorts.
Second, the recurring admonition, "Tell no one." As the author of Mark sees him, Jesus refuses to seek public honor from his mighty works. He will not promote himself through them. It's a little like George Burns in "Oh God," 'Miracles are too flashy for me." Rather, the mighty works are acts of compassion and power, in conflict with the forces of violence, evil and pain. The dunamis we talked about last week, the dynamite, the power which Jesus wields, restores life, gives people the ability to act. And the mighty acts, far from being Jesus' personal accomplishment, are early signs of God's new realm, which Jesus perceives to be breaking through the crust of things. We have such an image in Mark's gospel: the paralytic and his friends 'unroofing the roof' of the house where Jesus stayed in Capernaum.
With respect to Jesus' honor, the crowning conclusion to the first part of the book must be chapter 8:27-29. Certainly it: is usually taken as the center of Mark's gospel:
Peter identifies Jesus: "You are Christos" - the Greek word that translates the Hebrew word for "Messiah." Surely, he thinks, "I got it right." (DeMille v. Davis versions). But, wait a minute! Immediately, Mark says: ". . . Jesus began to teach them that the son of man must suffer many things, and be rejected by the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed." The glory and honor to be expected is distant, and puzzling at best. What Jesus is introducing here is more radical than any political, social, or revolutionary ideas these Palestinian peasants could have imagined. Peter rejects it outright. No Messiah is sent to be killed. He is meant to reign as God's sovereign. As for us, can we make any sense of Jesus' aphorisms? "Whoever would save his life will lose it. For what profit is there in gaining control of the world but losing your mind? (psuchê)"?
As for the disciples it must have seemed as if they were starting over - behind where they began. It is reflected in Peter's rebuke of Jesus' words. They will have nothing to do with it. This is not what they signed up for. In the very next chapter the passionate issue among the disciples continues to be "Who is the greatest"? At just this point, Jesus' understanding of the dynamics of God's ways in the world comes into conflict with the disciples' desires for high status and power. They think that if you have power you will have honor. Jesus flips that one over: the object lesson is a child. The claim is that God identifies with those who have least status (Now friends, Jesus was a little romantic about kids here. Clearly, he did not have any.) For James and John the issue is what they can expect to get out of it.
Mark 10: 35-45 James and John
As I am coming to read Mark, the decisive conflicts of the entire text - with ripples in both directions - come here in chapter 10, where Jesus tells his disciples that they must become servants of others, even slaves. And they are to do this without expecting that this is their way to shame their enemies.
Let's think about this for a moment. If we assume that from the beginning of his ministry Jesus understood that he would die on a cross, and then rise from the tomb on the third day, this victory over his enemies is easily taken to be the aim of Jesus' endurance. In that case the disciples were right. That business with the children was just a sentimental sideshow. Shame was and remains the name of the game. Jesus' honor will be secure.
He wins at last. Yet we must ask ourselves how this can be love of enemies? Surely, winning was the major temptation. It was the point of entry for the serpent with the woman in Genesis; it was the point of entry for the tempter with Peter, James and John.
Mark's story of Jesus' life can be read as a deliberate story of temptation, a story in which a young man is tempted to use his extraordinary gifts to put himself at the center of religious and political life in Palestine. The roles are there already. He can choose among them: healer, exorcist, prophet, Messiah, son of man. Yet one by one the certified titles and roles fall away. He is a healer, but he heals on the Sabbath. He is an exorcist, but he dares to forgive sins. He is John the Baptist, Jeremiah, or Elijah returned, but he touches lepers, and eats with prostitutes. He is the Messiah, and yet he expects to be rejected and killed by his own people. He calls himself son of man, but that title could mean any of a number of things: merely another way of indicating oneself, I, myself. In a second sense it could indicate anyone; it was equivalent to "human being". Or it could point to a Palestinian Superman, a celestial being descending from the clouds to bring aid and comfort to his people. So, none of the traditional titles fits. Death on a cross calls all of them into question. ". . . he who wishes to be great among you shall be your servant, and he who wishes to be first among you shall be the slave of all; for the son of man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his own life for the redemption of many."
"Servant" and "slave." These words sound scandalous to those already on the undersides of society. And for others? Can they be more than a pious wish? Jesus' claims are not easy to sort out. And the words are loaded.. They have been used to oppress people.
First, it is important to notice that Jesus has this discussion with his male disciples alone, There are no women present (Incidently, scripture scholar Walter Wink claims that Jesus' every encounter with women in the Gospels offends, in some way, the mores of his society.)
The key to Jesus' teaching here is that to be truly great is to use your power in a way that benefits others. In his culture, to make oneself least meant honoring others. So Jesus sees that even serving a cup of cold water is a gift of honor. Also, it is crucial to notice that being a servant and slave is not being a doormat or doing everything someone else wants. Jesus spends a lot of time arguing against people who lord it over others. So he is looking for service, not servitude. Even "slave" seems to me to refer to a role. It is not that slaves are somehow especially good people. It is that slaves have no one under them to dominate, to exercise power over, for self aggrandizement. Relentlessly, Jesus pursues this agenda.
If we are to believe the plays and romances written in the region in this period, slaves lived by their wits. Perhaps Jesus prefers the wit and resourcefulness of the slave to the master's easy, and likely habitual, resort to violence, sheer force. After all, it is an easy matter for the angry master to slap a servant. It took some wit for the slave to get 'round the master. In Matthew's gospel he warns the disciples to be "as wise as serpents, as innocent as doves." (Matthew 10:16 NRSV)
Again, Mark is not arguing for the virtues of suffering. Indeed, Jesus tells his disciples to pray that they not come into a testing time. Instead, the focus is upon faithfulness in service to the ways of God regardless of the cost - which might be terrible suffering.
Mark 10: 46-52 Bartimaeus . . . and Beyond
"What is it you want me to do for you?... We would like to be one on your right hand, one on your left, in your glory." Jesus refuses. He will not supply anything that will allow persons to assert power and authority over others for their own gain and at others' expense. Just a few lines later, Jesus asks the identical question of a blind beggar, sitting by the roadside. "What do you wish me to do for you?" "Master, let me see again." "Go; your trust has healed you." Here is a request that restores life without lording it over others.
Now Mark's gaze shifts ... toward Jerusalem and the journey of the second half of the book. Here the opposite problem emerges - no longer the disciples' pursuit of honor, but their flight from shame. It is not just the shame of the cross, but of their failure to grasp what Jesus is saying - their inability, or their willful refusal? In Gesthemene the disciples sleep while Jesus prays. When Roman soldiers arrest Jesus they take flight. And then there is Peter. He first identifies Jesus as Messiah. He first promises to stay with him until the end, saying, "Even though they all fall away I will not" (Mark 14:29). He assures Jesus, "If I must die with you, I will not deny you!" Yet he fails. How are we to understand him? Listen to Mark's account:
Mark 14:66-72: Peter's Denial
Then, he elbows his way into the circle around the warming fire. Perhaps this creates another sense of "being with". For who are these shivering strays, bonded together by a fire in the dark, predawn hours? What is their vigil? Ironically, as he is just settling in, the light which signals warmth also reveals clearly his face. Again the servant-maid confronts him. Why does she bother? What is her interest in all this? Could it be that this fire, this place in the high priest's courtyard, is her sacred space, and a traitorous newcomer, with uncertain identity, is not welcome there? Is she trying to expose and humiliate him, force him to leave? Perhaps Peter presumed too much - went too far. And to think, just a short time earlier he had been asleep with the other disciples, in Gethsemane, perhaps dreaming of glory.
That he has allowed himself to be trapped by the warmth and the light does suggest that his denial is more than fear - which is the way most commentators read it. For, if he is a coward, why would he be there, so close to the interrogation?
This servant-maid is another of Mark's strong women. As her first interrogation of Peter leaves him unyielding, she turns to those nearby to help expose this stained alien. They pick up the task with an added element, " Surely you are one of them. You must be; you are a Galilean." Peter is a hick. Already, with a few words, Peter has indicted himself. They are saying, "you are not one of us." Those six words may comprise the primal form of shaming rejection. They say, Peter, for you, there is no 'being with' here, no access to our fire. As René Girard puts it, "The, person with an accent, any accent, is always the person who is not from here." (The Scapegoat, p. 155). 1 can imagine a gentler version of this being played out among and around you entering students. "He's from Bahston." "She's from New Albany". When are you at home here? I suspect it is when they notice you as no longer having an accent. [but joke about it sometimes?]
"But he started calling down curses on himself and swearing, 'I do not know this man you are talking about'" (14:71) In a sense, here, Jesus becomes Peter's victim. The curses are his attempt to achieve an honorable standing with this gathering. Obviously, they thought Jesus a scoundrel, and there was talk of sedition in the air. Peter espoused their enmities. We must be friends, we have the same enemies. Possibly, Peter swings between identities: the idea of the son of man coming in glory is difficult to sustain after the events of the last few hours.
Finally, besides whatever else is going on in Peter's denial, also there is shame. René Girard puts it, "Peter is ashamed of this Jesus whom this group despises. He is ashamed of the model he chose, and therefore ashamed of himself."(The Scapegoat, p.155).
- "And immediately the cock crowed a second time. And Peter remembered how Jesus had said to him, 'Before the cock crows twice, you will deny me three times.' And he broke down and wept" (Mk 14:72).
Suddenly Peter sees the face of Jesus in the flames. The cock stirs remembrance. Perhaps he sees the contrast between what he had promised and what he did: betrayal. Or is he lamenting the loss of a place in the kingdom? Or, in some faint way does he grasp the vision that animated his teacher, the vision that Jesus had been trying to get the disciples to glimpse? Peter's shame is that he betrayed himself too. But this is not easy to sort out. Matthew's narrative of Jesus' arrest says that Peter brandished a sword - which the author of Matthew thought was relevant. But Jesus rejected the sword. So what is he to do, this doer? What are his options? He weeps.
In one of Plato's dialogues Peter's situation might be called aporia - one of bewilderment, utter perplexity. Peter is broken and dumbfounded. Seemingly, there is no bridge back and no way forward. In the first lecture I indicated that one of the most profound experiences of shame is the severing of the interpersonal bridge, between self and other --and even between parts of myself. I no longer know or recognize myself. In the Hebrew Bible too, shame is often accompanied by confusion.
What happens now in Mark's story? Two things. Initially, Peter goes back to fishing, to what he knows by heart. Second, as the two Marys and Salome approach Jesus' tomb they hear a young man in white, sitting in the tomb, say: "...Go tell his disciples and Peter that he is going before you to Galilee: there you will see him as he told you" (16:7). If this special word to Peter - who betrayed in spite of himself - if this word heralds forgiveness (or beginning of reconciliation), and I believe it does, it charts a path forward toward the new community of which I spoke earlier. Also it allows us to see another aspect of the healing of shame: shame's paralysis may need to be broken by the wronged party's making the first step. And I wonder if this is any less easy for Jesus than it is for us.
One thing more. Much of the final chapter of John's gospel details that meeting on the shore of the Sea of Galilee, and a remarkable reconciliation.
The third lecture will begin with an account of the final scene of shame in Mark's gospel, the crucifixion of Jesus. That execution, which was the ultimate shame the Roman Empire could enforce on a man or woman, was to become a sign of honor, its cross the sign of the empire itself. We will try to understand what happened. And, if we have any stamina or wit remaining after that, we will return to themes of the first lecture, and study the roles of shame, honor, and dignity in our own world, today. Whether we will it or not, in our culture we are the heirs of all the parties to this conflict: Romans, Jews, Greeks, Syrophoenicians; centurions, slaves, princes and prostitutes. It is our opportunity, and our responsibility, to understand their achievements, their glories and their shames. It is a part of achieving our own.Copyright ©2000 Richard Davis
Lecture #1 Lecture #3
Return to Religion Department Return to Earlham HOME