The breadth of topics covered in Defoe’s extensive canon is universally acknowledged, but so too is the seemingly consistent nature of an authorial perspective marked by authority, firm occupation of the moral high ground, and extensive use of scriptural imagery and language. This chapter considers the textual and biographical evidence for Defoe’s erudition in religious literature. Immediately apparent is Defoe’s use of specific stylistics shared with contemporary ministers, both within and outside the established church. In an author trained from an early age to join the ministry, such linguistic features are hardly surprising, though Defoe’s ministerial training and scholarship is equally apparent at the level of structure and rhetorical device. The chapter further explores how a cultural period fraught with religious contention between English Protestants came to shape the purported identity of Defoe’s authorial ‘voice’ as that of a non-specific Protestant Christian. Notwithstanding this specific authorial response to contesting notions of Christian identity in the period, Defoe engaged first-hand in a series of contemporary religious debates, which the chapter also scrutinizes.

In medieval classifications of the sciences, poetics occupies the lowest position, insofar as its language is starkly opposed to the sort of the scientific language represented, ideally, in the Word of God. Yet, between 1240 and 1260, reflections on the necessary presence of poetic language in the Bible gave rise to what might be called a theological science or rather theology as science. How, then, were the resources of poetics (as pertaining to the analysis of the language of poetry) themselves made part of biblical exegesis? Likewise, was Aristotle’s Poetics put to the service of exegesis in the same way as the Philosopher’s writings on logic, ethics and even physics? The present chapter will address these questions, drawing on thirteenth-century hermeneutic theory as well as selected commentaries.

This chapter distils a massive reservoir of discourses of heresy against Abu Hanifa to document the capaciousness of the proto-Sunni traditionalist effort to marginalise him and his followers. It identifies the multifarious nature of criticisms against him: proto-Sunni traditionalists assailing him on account of his jurisprudence, expertise in hadith, theology, and piety. This chapter closes with a discussion of the social regulation of heresy and orthodoxy in the eighth to tenth centuries.

For decades, two sophisticated historiographies, postcolonialism and critical archival studies emphasized that knowledge is power and that archives are power. These two formulas have been subject to recent criticism from a small group of renowned researchers, who stress that knowledge and archives do not possess such a linear and direct relationship with domination. It remains for us, therefore, to explore how, and in which specific social contexts, knowledge and archives allow administrations to achieve more power. This chapter follows the Council of the Indies during its nomadic existence, from 1524 to 1561, in which ministers prioritized communication with vassals (along with a subsequent incoherence of imperial policies) over an assertive, coherent program. This chapter also explores the decision-making technologies of this nomadic council, especially how it applied limited textual hermeneutics to petitions. It also follows the extraordinary juntas: committees which occasionally convened to solve imperial crises and which applied more sophisticated knowledge-based decisions to Indies problems. Nonetheless, I argue, the Council’s members recognized the inefficacy of its theological approaches and its largely nonarchival hermeneutics, setting the stage for reform.

Why are religious minorities well represented and politically influential in some democracies but not others? Focusing on evangelical Christians in Latin America, I argue that religious minorities seek and gain electoral representation when (a) they face significant threats to their material interests and worldview and (b) their community is not internally divided by cross-cutting cleavages. Differences in Latin American evangelicals’ political ambitions emerged as a result of two critical junctures: episodes of secular reform in the early twentieth century and the rise of sexuality politics at the turn of the twenty-first century. In Brazil, significant threats at both junctures prompted extensive electoral mobilization; in Chile, minimal threats meant that mobilization lagged. In Peru, where major cleavages divide both evangelicals and broader society, threats prompt less electoral mobilization than otherwise expected. The multi-method argument leverages interviews, content analysis, survey experiments, ecological analysis, and secondary case studies of Colombia, Costa Rica, and Guatemala.

This chapter continues the earlier one's project of outlining Hegel's critique of metaphysics, and distinguishing it from Kant's own. It does so by considering Hegel's relationship to Kant's Transcnendental Dialectic and its three main divisions: paralogisms, antinomies and Ideal. It explains the distinction between finite and infinite categories in Hegel, as well as its bearing on his dispute with Kant. It also finishes the task, begun in Chapter 2, of reconstructing Hegel's ontological proof and response to Kant's critique of this form of argument.

Why are religious minorities well represented and politically influential in some democracies but not others? Focusing on evangelical Christians in Latin America, I argue that religious minorities seek and gain electoral representation when (a) they face significant threats to their material interests and worldview and (b) their community is not internally divided by cross-cutting cleavages. Differences in Latin American evangelicals’ political ambitions emerged as a result of two critical junctures: episodes of secular reform in the early twentieth century and the rise of sexuality politics at the turn of the twenty-first century. In Brazil, significant threats at both junctures prompted extensive electoral mobilization; in Chile, minimal threats meant that mobilization lagged. In Peru, where major cleavages divide both evangelicals and broader society, threats prompt less electoral mobilization than otherwise expected. The multi-method argument leverages interviews, content analysis, survey experiments, ecological analysis, and secondary case studies of Colombia, Costa Rica, and Guatemala.

The introduction to this volume captures virtue's dizzying variety by explaining its roots in classical ethics, transformation through theological appropriation, and engagement with global wisdom traditions. We propose that the work of Shakespeare patches together virtue's many realizations, active both on the horizontal axis of Aristotelian capacity and dynamism and the vertical axis of Judeo-Christian valuation. Threading together exemplary passages from Shakespeare and previews of the volume's contributions, the introduction proposes that Shakespeare creates virtue ecologies -- worlds that allow for person-affirming capacities to be tested and flourish. Alive to virtue's textual and performative dimensions, we establish a vocabulary and background for the essays that follow.

“Pindar Mythologus and Theologus,” offers a methodological introduction to the central themes and approaches of the monograph. After articulating the case for recognizing theology in the victory odes and reviewing earlier approaches to immortality in the epinician corpus, it offers an orientation to the methodologies of lived religion, approaches to Pindar’s epinician myths, and an evaluation of contemporary conceptions of mortality and immortality with an emphasis on hero cult. As a contrast to the subsequent case studies of figures who blur the boundary between mortality and immortality, an analysis of Pelops in Olympian 1 establishes an example of exalted mortality in Pindar. An overview of the following case studies rounds off the chapter.

The concluding chapter, “An Invitation,” exhorts readers to further theological readings of Pindar’s victory songs and of lyric poetry more broadly. Nemean 6 is analyzed as an example of the susceptibility of Pindar’s victor songs to theological readings, even when the boundary-blurring figures whose identities challenge the categories of mortality and immortality are absent.

Chapter 4 treats the Cappadocians’ hagiographic biographies in conjunction with their polemic against non-Trinitarian theologians. The chapter begins by outlining the background and teachings of Eunomius of Cyzicus (c. 335–c. 395), a longtime heterousian rival to the Cappadocians. The chapter analyzes the narratives about fourth-century Nicene bishop Athanasius of Alexandria (c. 298–372), Basil, and Macrina as hagiographies designed in part to contrast true (pro-Nicene) doctrine against the false philosophy of non-Trinitarians. These saints’ ascetic feats are recounted as spiritual ordeals fashioned as classical contests: in Athanasius, suffering multiple exiles because of standing up to false (heterousian) teachers; in Basil, countering threats to the Nicene faith by imperial officials; and in Macrina, enduring disease and death with unwavering resolve. In each case, Nyssen or Nazianzen emphasize that character is formed out of struggle; and that voice and speech (as a metaphor for doctrine) have been purified and validated in pro-Nicene theologians, but are corrupted and disingenuous in the untested charlatans they oppose.

Chapter 3 begins by laying out the late-fourth century theological conflict that set the backdrop for the following texts. It then investigates Nyssen’s and Nazianzen’s hagiographic biographies of third-century bishop Gregory Thaumaturgus (c. 210–270), Basil (the Great), Macrina, and Gorgonia; each affiliated with pro-Nicene leadership. In these accounts, the protagonists demonstrate feats of strength and perseverance, modeled on ancient Greek athletes and warriors and biblical heroes; the latter refashioned to accord with characterizations of classical masculinity. The subjects stand out as examples of piety and authority not only for their actions, but also for their appearance. Nyssen and Nazianzen detailed the beauty of each as a testament of their excellence, an example of evaluating the body according to classical Greek norms. As projections of moral superiority and fortitude, these personifications projected Trinitarian supporters as a synthesis of holiness and manhood. By authoring these accounts, Nyssen and Nazianzen enhanced their own capital as theologians associated with saints acquitted through various contests that defended truth.

This new collection enables students and general readers to appreciate Coleridge’s renewed relevance 250 years after his birth. An indispensable guide to his writing for twenty-first-century readers, it contains new perspectives that reframe his work in relation to slavery, race, war, post-traumatic stress disorder and ecological crisis. Through detailed engagement with Coleridge’s pioneering poetry, the reader is invited to explore fundamental questions on themes ranging from nature and trauma to gender and sexuality. Essays by leading Coleridge scholars analyse and render accessible his extraordinarily innovative thinking about dreams, psychoanalysis, genius and symbolism. Coleridge is often a direct and gripping writer, yet he is also elusive and diverse. This Companion’s great achievement is to offer a one-volume entry point into his incomparably rich and varied world.

This chapter discusses the polemical works that Pufendorf wrote in response to the violent criticisms directed against his main natural law work, the Law of Nature and Nations. Pufendorf collected these controversial writings under the title Eris Scandica (Scandinavian dispute) in 1686. Despite being indispensable for the reconstruction of Pufendorf’s thought, and notwithstanding its great success among his contemporaries, this work is one of the least known and used works by scholars of natural law. In beginning to make good this deficit the present chapter offers insights not only into the philosophical arguments of our author, but also into his formidable satirical style, at once strongly contentious and imaginative. Much of the ferocity of the disputes is explained by the fact that Pufendorf’s enemies were actually accusing him of heresy, which helps to clarify the centrality of the work’s philosophical-theological themes and the violence of Pufendorf’s reaction. In presenting the variety of philosophical issues covered in Eris Scandica, the chapter covers not only the classic themes of natural law—state of nature, moral entities, obligation—but also elucidates Pufendorf’s views of the relation between philosophical reason and Christian philosophy, thence philosophy and theology, and his stance towards Cartesianism.

This chapter argues that there are two basic approaches to natural law, especially but not exclusively in the Jewish tradition. In the first, natural law is essentially concerned with human goods. In the second, natural law is essentially concerned with human rights. The first approach is that of ‘natural theology’. The second approach is what is called here ‘normative theology’. For natural theology, natural law is rooted in a larger, beneficial, teleological Nature, ruled by the Creator-God. For normative theology, the ‘nature’ in natural law is human nature, which is essentially lawful, having been made in God’s image by the lawgiving Creator-God. The chapter analyses and critiques the first approach to natural law, while the second is analysed and its theological and philosophical preferability advocated. From a theological perspective, rights are more closely related to divinely commanded duties (mitsvot) than goods are. From a philosophical perspective, connecting natural law with human rights as divine entitlements avoids the problem of deriving prescriptions from descriptive states of affairs; a problem natural law based on natural theology does not seem able to overcome.