The woman was dressed in purple and scarlet and glittered with gold and jewels and pearls, and she was holding a gold winecup filled with the disgusting filth of her prostitution; on her forehead was written a name, a cryptic name: “Babylon the Great, the mother of the prostitutes and all the filthy practices on the earth.” (Rev 17:4–5, NJB)

In discussions of the ancient Near Eastern setting for the Old Testament, various aspects of Mesopotamian society and culture are nominated as the precursors of certain features of Israelite practice.

In 592 bce, at the midpoint between the two Babylonian invasions of 597 bce and 587 bce, Ezekiel, who was exiled to Babylon after the first invasion, finds himself transported back to Jerusalem in a divine vision (Ezekiel 8–11). In the first part of this vision, Ezekiel 8, Ezekiel sees Jerusalem in a state of religious collapse, as God shows the prophet four strange cultic abominations: the image of jealousy (8:3–6), elders burning incense in a room of reliefs (8:7–13), women wailing over Tammuz (8:14–15), and men worshiping the sun (8:16–18). Of these four cultic abominations, the character of the last two, the mourning over Tammuz and the worship of the sun, is clear. Less certain is the nature of the first cultic abomination, the image of jealousy. Still, there has recently emerged in the literature a consensus that the image (semel) in question is an ʾăšērâ, the wooden cult object associated with the goddess Asherah. However, there has been no agreement among scholars concerning the cult act referred to in Ezek 8:7–13, where elders burn incense in a room of reliefs.

The rise of asceticism and its impact on Roman society in the fourth century have increasingly attracted the notice of scholars. Recent studies, such as Peter Brown's The Body and Society, have called attention to the transformation of civic and social values brought by the spread of ascetic piety. What is less frequently noted, however, is the degree of Christian resistance to asceticism which emerged in the late fourth century. The ascetic enthusiasm of men such as Jerome and Ambrose was not representative of that “silent majority” of Christians who married, raised children, and remained committed to civic and social life. It may even have been the case, as this study will suggest, that the majority was not as silent as it would appear. One need only recall the controversies surrounding Helvidius, Jovinian, and Vigilantius to be reminded that asceticism encountered vocal opposition in the West during the late fourth century.

The Examiner reported that throughout the day hundreds of would-be spectators and scalpers charging three and four dollars for tickets gathered on Chicago's downtown streets. The evening plenary session was repeated twice; each time “three thousand men and women were on their feet waving handkerchiefs, clapping hands, and cheering.” Julia Ward Howe “kissed her hand in benediction of the Parliament”; the “Jewish rabbi and the Catholic Bishop asked God's blessing upon its work which is now a part of history.” Christian and Hebrew, Buddhist and Moslem, the Examiner announced, all “spoke for a universal religion, advocated it in fact, and fervently hoped for some such … happy consummation as the outcome of this great and historic gathering.”

Understanding the role played by emotion in relation to culture and nature is relevant to theories of religion and to issues of theological method. The extent to which one grants emotion independence from cognition may well determine whether one views religious experience as an avenue available to free one from culture or simply as the product of culture. In theories of religion the role played by emotion may determine both the integrity granted the subject's account of her or his experience and the appropriate methods for interpreting the general significance of the account. In regard to theological methodology, the role played by emotion will likely indicate whether experience is viewed as a relative consequence of construction and critique or the authoritative starting point for construction and critique.

Paul Corby Finney, “Early Christian Architecture: The Beginnings (A Review Article),” HTR 81:3 (1988) 319–39