One of the ways in which artificial intelligence can be a useful tool in the scientific study of religion is in developing a computational model of how the human mind is deployed in spiritual practices. It is a helpful first step to develop a precise cognitive model using a well-specified cognitive architecture. So far, the most promising architecture for this purpose is the Interacting Cognitive Subsystems of Philip Barnard, which distinguishes between two modes of central cognition: intuitive and conceptual. Cognitive modelling of practices such as mindfulness and the Jesus Prayer involves a shift in central cognition from the latter to the former, though that is achieved in slightly different ways in different spiritual practices. The strategy here is to develop modelling at a purely cognitive level before attempting full computational implementation. There are also neuropsychological models of spiritual practices which could be developed into computational models.

Chapter 2 considers the story of the prophet Samuel, God’s relationship with his mother Hannah, the way God related to people at the shrine at Shiloh, Samuel’s family relationships and God’s relationship with his family, and the significance of the call of Samuel.

This chapter analyzes devotional experience, especially as it is displayed in contemporary evangelical approaches. Devotion is examined not as a singular practice but as a way of living out religion in daily life, within regular social, economic, and political structures without radical withdrawal from them. Devotional experience is marked by a deeply personal affective experience of a loving God who is seen to accept even the most evil and wretched person. This serves as a horizon of friendship that enables the devotional self to confront its faults and shortcomings. Devotional experience is marked by its intensely emotional and individual forms of expression. It accompanies people in their concrete daily lives and is experienced as suffusing and transforming daily and ordinary experiences without separating oneself from the society or the world. Devotional experience thus capitalizes on the human need for loving relationship and personal guidance in daily life.

This chapter investigates monastic experience, which has been a deliberate pursuit of religious life for most of Christian history and also appears in other religious traditions. It argues that monasticism is especially characterized by structures of stability that are achieved through communally shared rules and vows of stability. The tasks of prayer and labor – often accomplished in silence – mark monastic life and often interpenetrate each other, as prayer becomes labor and work is infused with prayer. The monastic self is shaped through obedience to the rule, shared communal practices, and mutual love. It is a profoundly communal religious way of life to the point that the individual is entirely absorbed into the monastic community. In this regard, it carries human plural experience – usually pursued in a more temporally limited fashion – to its height.

Alchfrith may have been associated with Lindisfarne. This prayer, probably dating from the end of the eighth century and addressed to the Virgin Mary, is found among a set of Gospel extracts and other prayers in the so-called Book of Cerne.

This chapter broadens the focus to the Spirit’s renovation of human community through a prayerful “confessional movement” of self-dispossession, the reception of one’s identity in Christ, and responsive self-offering to God. Attention to this confessional movement both emphasizes the Augustinian tradition’s capacity for self-critique, fosters greater solidarity with the oppressed, and builds conceptual bridges toward greater dialogue with liberatory theological traditions.

Using Mahoney’s Relational Spirituality Framework, we summarize mixed evidence that has linked global markers of general involvement in religion to the formation (partner selection, decisions to cohabit, date or marry), maintenance (union satisfaction, infidelity, domestic violence), and dissolution (divorce) of romantic relationships. We then examine four specific religious/spiritual (RS) factors that have been robustly tied to better relationship functioning: sanctification, spiritual intimacy, prayer for partner, and positive RS coping. Next, we discuss more rare but toxic RS factors that can undermine the quality of romantic unions and the well-being of the partners, particularly after romantic dissolution or divorce. We hope this chapter helps readers appreciate the roles of religion and spirituality, for better and worse, for romantic relationships.

Cyprian of Carthage believed that Christian thought and practice must be formed by scripture. To this end, he compiled testimonia collections like Ad Quirinum, organising knowledge in culturally intelligible ways to assist its transmission by common cultural means—the memorisation of texts. Much of this training took place through the institution of the catechumenate, in which converts also began the process of embodying that knowledge, imitating Christ and other exemplary believers. Along with scripture, the other fundamental element of Christian life, according to Cyprian, is prayer, which cannot be separated from a life of harmony and generosity. Through these disciplines, the one in whom God dwells will be perfected.

The final chapter explores first the religious underpinnings of the text and notes that the Iohannis rested on Christian assumptions even as it used the imagery and rhetoric of classical epic to recount an essentially secular narrative. The epic includes recognizable portraits of two African churchmen who were spokesmen in the ‘Three Chapters’ controversy. Far from ignoring contemporary religious problems, Corippus may have intended his poem to accentuate the support of the entire African populace for the imperial military programme. The chapter then turns to representations of ‘Moorish’ religious practices within the poem. While it is tempting to suppose that Corippus presents a timeless image of African religion, the Iohannis was very much a product of the mid-sixth century. The poet drew upon literary models, but the details of his account may betray contemporary practices. The Iohannis was composed at a time when the imperial authorities in Africa were consolidating the recent military victories with a programme of evangelism into the frontier regions, pre-desert and oasis communities. The chapter concludes with a discussion of this programme and of how this changes our understanding of Corippus’ text.

Tertullian provides evidence in several writings addressed to catechumens of the ways in which Christian contestations about ritual related to knowledge of God. Against what he describes as the obfuscations of heretical and pagan ritual, Tertullian emphasizes the simplicity of Christian ritual as a fitting mode for expressing true divine power. This chapter focuses on De spectaculis, De oratione, De baptismo, and Tertullian’s appeals to the Rule of Faith.

Chapter 8 provides a select introduction to register, genre, and style. The multidimensional analysis of style reveals a gradual drift from “literate” to “oral” over time. Attention is given here to the news and religious registers. The news register has seen the rise of the newspaper, leading to the introduction of new publication types, such as television, radio, and internet news, and new genres, such as editorials, obituaries, or weather forecasts. The religious register has a long history and has been remarkably stable. Two religious genres, prayers and sermons, have changed little in respect to function, structure, and linguistic characteristics. The function of recipes remains constant (i.e., instructions on how to prepare or do something), thus accounting for the imperative as the defining linguistic form, but we find differences in the content of recipes (medicinal vs. culinary), in the audience of recipes (e.g., the professional vs. the amateur cook), in the structural elements found in recipes (e.g., separation of the ingredients and the procedural steps), and in characteristic linguistic features (e.g., the introduction of null objects and telegraphic style).

Many people turn to their religious beliefs and faith community for comfort when the worst happens. Even people who do not identify with a religion may rely on their spirituality, a sense of connection to something greater, to help them cope. From a healthcare chaplain responding to the COVID-19 pandemic to a mental health worker recovering from a brutal assault, you will hear examples of how people have turned to religion and spirituality to heal, recover, and grow. We also tell the story of Dr. Southwick's ancestors, early settlers in the United States who faced religious persecution with unwaivering commitment. We highlight the benefits of prayer, meditation, and other spiritual practices.

Generations of Christians, Janet Soskice demonstrates, once knew God and Christ by hundreds of remarkable names. These included the appellations ‘Messiah’, ‘Emmanuel’, ‘Alpha’, ‘Omega’, ‘Eternal’, ‘All-Powerful’, ‘Lamb’, ‘Lion’, ‘Goat’, ‘One’, ‘Word’, ‘Serpent’ and ‘Bridegroom’. In her much-anticipated new book, Soskice argues that contemporary understandings of divinity could be transformed by a return to a venerable analogical tradition of divine naming. These ancient titles – drawn from scripture – were chanted and sung, crafted and invoked (in polyphony and plainsong) as they were woven into the worship of the faithful. However, during the sixteenth century Descartes moved from ‘naming’ to ‘defining’ God via a series of metaphysical attributes. This made God a thing among things: a being amongst beings. For the author, reclaiming divine naming is not only overdue. It can also re-energise the relationship between philosophy and religious tradition. This path-breaking book shows just how rich and revolutionary such reclamation might be.

Generations of Christians, Janet Soskice demonstrates, once knew God and Christ by hundreds of remarkable names. These included the appellations ‘Messiah’, ‘Emmanuel’, ‘Alpha’, ‘Omega’, ‘Eternal’, ‘All-Powerful’, ‘Lamb’, ‘Lion’, ‘Goat’, ‘One’, ‘Word’, ‘Serpent’ and ‘Bridegroom’. In her much-anticipated new book, Soskice argues that contemporary understandings of divinity could be transformed by a return to a venerable analogical tradition of divine naming. These ancient titles – drawn from scripture – were chanted and sung, crafted and invoked (in polyphony and plainsong) as they were woven into the worship of the faithful. However, during the sixteenth century Descartes moved from ‘naming’ to ‘defining’ God via a series of metaphysical attributes. This made God a thing among things: a being amongst beings. For the author, reclaiming divine naming is not only overdue. It can also re-energise the relationship between philosophy and religious tradition. This path-breaking book shows just how rich and revolutionary such reclamation might be.

Generations of Christians, Janet Soskice demonstrates, once knew God and Christ by hundreds of remarkable names. These included the appellations ‘Messiah’, ‘Emmanuel’, ‘Alpha’, ‘Omega’, ‘Eternal’, ‘All-Powerful’, ‘Lamb’, ‘Lion’, ‘Goat’, ‘One’, ‘Word’, ‘Serpent’ and ‘Bridegroom’. In her much-anticipated new book, Soskice argues that contemporary understandings of divinity could be transformed by a return to a venerable analogical tradition of divine naming. These ancient titles – drawn from scripture – were chanted and sung, crafted and invoked (in polyphony and plainsong) as they were woven into the worship of the faithful. However, during the sixteenth century Descartes moved from ‘naming’ to ‘defining’ God via a series of metaphysical attributes. This made God a thing among things: a being amongst beings. For the author, reclaiming divine naming is not only overdue. It can also re-energise the relationship between philosophy and religious tradition. This path-breaking book shows just how rich and revolutionary such reclamation might be.