Christians of every stripe are bound into faith communities by two sets of identifying metaphors. One, the body of Christ, is derived from the New Testament's account of the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. The other, drawn from Hebraic prophecy, is linked to the understanding that Jesus was of the house and lineage of David. As the crucified Messiah, he stood at the head of the house of Israel as both Lord and Christ. In the practical terms spelled out in the Pauline letters, the first of these metaphorical congeries describes the church as Christ's body, an entity with members and a head. The second turns Christ's followers into a kinship group that is a party to a new covenant with God. Despite its heterogeneity, its inclusion of Gentiles as well as Jews, this group—along with the Jews—is one that the ancient of days selected to be his chosen people.

Children are the weakest and most fragile members of their families as well as of the society in which they live. At the same time children embody a potential for growth and renewal that is greater than that of anyone else. On many occasions, ancient and medieval hagiographers from the Caucasus have chosen to convey their message of the need for religious change and conversion from indigenous religions or later on from Islam to Christianity by employing examples that involve children. When these writers promoted the transition from sickness to healing and health, from sterility to fertility, from old to new, from what is wild, misguided, and unlettered to the elevated and advanced state of a society that is educated, and from worshippers that were members of other religions to followers of Christianity, they chose to avail themselves of the image of the child.

Three vernacular religious biographies were written by women about other women around the year 1300: Agnes of Harcourt's Francien Vie d'Isabelle de France (ca. 1283), Felipa of Porcelet's Provençal Vida de la benaurada sancta Doucelina (begun ca. 1297), and Marguerite of Oingt's Franco-Provençal Via seiti Biatrix virgina de Ornaciu (between 1303 and 1310). Although a limited number of similar texts had been composed in Latin dating back to the early Middle Ages, and a few twelfth-century women such as Clemence of Barking had refashioned existing Latin lives of early female martyr-saints into Anglo-Norman verse, the works of Agnes, Felipa, and Marguerite are the first extant vernacular biographies to have been written by European women about other contemporary women. Just as strikingly, after the three examples studied here, few if any analogous works appeared until the later fifteenth century, with most writing by women about other religious women in the intervening period instead being found in “Sister Books” and convent chronicles.

Fasting has an ancient and revered place in the many religious traditions that human communities have fostered throughout history and across the globe. In India, to take a modern example, Hindu women commonly carry out ritual fasts or vrats. Fasting, particularly in its collective forms, is also frequent and widespread among western groups that scholars have sometimes described as Abrahamic religions. Muslims annually observe Ramadan, a month of fasting, prayer, and celebration. Jews customarily fast, taking no food or drink from sunup to sundown, several days each year and, most notably, on Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement. For medieval Christians, preparation for the holy feasts of Christmas and Easter meant substantial periods of religious preparation, the well-known Advent and Lenten periods complete with fasting and abstinence from certain foods. In contemporary Christian circles, fasting may be less widely practiced, yet it retains an important place among Roman Catholics and members of the Church of Jesus Christ of the Latter-day Saints, to cite but two better-known cases. In short, the utilization of food for purposes of religious devotion and piety, whether through fasting or feasting, has been a long-standing custom within and without western religious culture.

A delegation of Illinois Indians on a diplomatic mission astonished the residents of New Orleans in 1730 with their ardent participation in the Catholic ritual life of the colonial capital. The Jesuit Mathurin le Petit observed that during their three–week stay “[the Illinois] charmed us by their piety, and by their edifying life. Every evening they recited the rosary … and every morning they heard me say Mass.” People crowded into the church to witness the spectacle of “savage” Indians worshiping and singing before the altar. The highlight for the audience was a responsive Gregorian chant in which Ursuline nuns “chanted the first Latin couplet, … and the Illinois continued the other couplets in their language in the same tone.” The Illinois appeared to be very well educated in Catholic practice, pausing during their daily activities to recite a variety of prayers. “To listen to them,” concluded the missionary, “you would easily perceive that they took more delight and pleasure in chanting these holy Canticles, than the generality of the Savages.” Le Petit was correct in a sense. The performance that so delighted the people of New Orleans represented the results of more than a generation of intercultural and linguistic exchange between the Illinois and the French.