In his two central monastic texts, the Institutes and the Conferences, John Cassian (c. 360-c.435) draws extensively on tropes of grammatical and rhetorical education. This language helps shape monasticism in ways that are culturally and socially acceptable to the elite, male audience in Gaul to which he is appealing. The effect of this language is not to create a monasticism that is comfortable for the elite but to transform his audience through a process analogous to their traditional education. He invents a new monastic reading culture that uses reading and writing to form the identity of a monk. Like all reading cultures, Cassian's requires a particular form of literacy, defined here as teaching certain reading methods and valuing particular texts. Indeed, Cassian's two works serve as the teaching texts for this monastic literacy and so compete against contemporaneous claims for other forms of monastic instruction. Cassian's texts function as monastic equivalents to rhetorical handbooks (the Institutes) and works of literary theory (the Conferences) and are themselves sublime replacements for “pagan” literature. The epitome of his monasticism, ecstatic prayer, is also described in terms of sublimity thereby appropriating rhetorical values and prestige into a new performance of the elite male self.

Pope Urban II (1088–99) was trained at Reims and Cluny before entering the orbit of the Gregorians around Rome. As such, Urban was first trained as an exegete. By considering how Urban used one particular verse (Daniel 2:21) and tracing that verse's intellectual lineage forward from the Fathers, through the Carolingians, we get a clearer picture not just of the vibrancy of eleventh-century intellectual life but also, ultimately, of Urban's understanding of the arc of sacred history. As a trained Carolingian exegete, Urban continued the work of his ninth-century predecessors, calling the Christian people (populus christianus) to mend their ways and strike back against the pagans, so that God would return His hand and allow the Christians to reconquer the Mediterranean world.

This article represents a local study investigating the relations between the commandery of the Order of St. John of Jerusalem and a Reformed Protestant community from about 1560 to 1660. The chosen locality is the French provincial town of Loudun and the article spans the French Wars of Religion and the period of recovery and reconstruction beyond. The relationship between Loudun's commandery and Reformed community manifests the sometimes astonishing interplay of conflict, accommodation, and necessity. The Protestant use of the commandery's church enabled the Reformed community to entrench itself in Loudun and remain there until the Crown revoked all the civil and religious prerogatives that it had granted to this religious minority. For its part, the commandery's fortunes and misfortunes became tied to that Reformed Protestant presence. The commandery's recovery in the first half of the seventeenth century in part drew upon the momentum of the Catholic resurgence, but the earlier Protestant use of the commandery's church and the repairs that the Protestants effectuated on the edifice gave the commandery a foothold in that process of recovery. This at times begrudged interdependence between commandery and Reformed community allowed for something resembling cross-confessional relations where one would least expect to find them.

Despite a surfeit of studies recognizing Cotton Mather's support for a range of alchemical and occult practices, historians have yet to integrate these occult activities with Mather's religious and scientific thought as a whole. I argue that we can bring clarity to Mather's engagement with the occult by refracting it through his reverence for Lutheran Pietist Johann Arndt, whose writings, especially Vier bucher vom wahren Christentum (Four Books of True Christianity), offer a key to Mather's employment of hermetic materials in his major works of natural philosophy. Through analysis of The Christian Philosopher and The Angel of Bethesda, as well as Mather's private writings, I suggest that Mather's cosmology was vitalistic in ways not previously acknowledged by historians. This view of creation as dynamic, enchanted, and marked by divine signatures—evidenced most clearly in Mather's concept of the nishmath-chajim—helped Mather reconcile the new science, Puritan covenant theology, and alchemical traditions descending from Paracelsus. By positing a divine, dynamic presence in nature, Mather retained an orthodox view of God as sovereign and transcendent while intimately engaged in a process of cosmic redemption, slowly transmuting the base matter of a fallen creation into a new heaven and new earth.

After Josephine Beckwith and DeLaris Johnson broke the color barrier at two southern missionary training schools in the 1940s and 50s, their religious vocations led them and other African American women on a trajectory of missionary service resonate with what we recognize today as civil rights activism. While histories of African American women's mission organizing and those of their civil rights organizing typically are framed as separate endeavors, this article teases out the previously unexamined overlaps and connections between black women's missionary efforts and civil rights activism in the 1940s and 50s. In doing so, it bridges a disjuncture in African American women's religious history, illuminating the ways beliefs about Christian mission shaped the community work of black missionary women so that narratives of civil rights organizing and Christian missions are no longer discrete categories but are seen in historical continuity. In shedding light on the ways mission organizing and service served as a site for cultivating leadership and engaging segregation and racism, a new vision and practice of mission for the civil rights era is revealed and our understandings of the religious lives and activism of African American women are greatly enriched and expanded.

The article reviews recent and current developments in research on the origins of Christmas, which has traditionally crystallized around two competing approaches, known as the "History of Religions Theory" and the "Calculation Theory." This essay shall look at the history of these approaches and discuss their rationale and limitations, before turning to the challenges that have been brought against them by the recent work of Steven Hijmans and Hans Förster. It will be argued that their studies reveal the need for a more nuanced approach to the history of Christmas, which retains the aspect of inter-religious influence, but also pays some overdue attention to the importance of chronological thought in early Christian scholarship.