Shepherds Of The Empire

The late 19th century was a time of rapid industrialization, mass politicization, and modern philosophy. The resulting political and cultural upheaval confronted the German protestant church with deep questions of identity. Shepherds of the Empire engages timeless questions of identity and faith through the time-bound work of 4 key thinkers from the Wilhelmine period and their eventual failure to carve a middle way for the German parish clergy.

This book is the first study of the rural priesthood, its significance, and the statutes written for them in the time of the Carolingians. It seeks to trace and explain the rise and emergence in the Carolingian period of both local priests and episcopal statutes that aimed at steering their behaviour. It was in the context of Carolingian ideals of reform, formulated in court-centred circles from the late eighth century onwards, that local priests increasingly came to be seen as those that held the key to turning the local Frankish population into ideal Christians by their word and living example. First of all, however, these educators needed to be educated themselves, hence the emergence of the Episcopal statutes, a new tool to direct the local diocesan clergy into becoming the ideal 'Shepherds of the Lord' that they needed to be. Smooth as this process of empire-wide reform theoretically was, however, obstacles lurked, both from a top-down (episcopal) and a grass-roots (local) perspective on the status, role, and function of priests. Nevertheless, the ninth century saw the emergence of the priesthood and the development of their role as an important group that connected bishops with the lay inhabitants of their dioceses and, from a higher-up perspective, those who opened up the vast Carolingian country-side to the implementation of the ideal society in the minds of contemporary reformers.

Under Seleucid rule, time no longer restarted with each new monarch. Instead, progressively numbered years, identical to the system we use today, became the measure of historical duration. Paul Kosmin shows how this invention of a new kind of time—and resistance to it—transformed the way we organize our thoughts about the past, present, and future.

A statuette of Egyptian King Pepi formidably wielding a shepherd's crook stands in stark contrast to a fresco of an unassuming Orpheus-like youth gently hoisting a sheep around his shoulders. Both images, however, occupy an extensive tradition of shepherding motifs. In the transition from ancient Near Eastern depictions of the keeper of flocks as one holding great power to the more "pastoral" scenes of early Christian art, it might appear that connotations of rulership were divested from the image of the shepherd. The reality, however, presents a much more complex tapestry. The Good Shepherd: Image, Meaning, and Power traces the visual and textual depictions of the Good Shepherd motif from its early iterations as a potent symbol of kingship, through its reimagining in biblical figures, such as the shepherd-king David, and onward to the shepherds of Greco-Roman literature. Jennifer Awes Freeman reveals that the figure of the Good Shepherd never became humble or docile but always carried connotations of empire, divinity, and defensive violence even within varied sociopolitical contexts. The early Christian invocation of the Good Shepherd was not simply anti-imperial but relied on a complex set of associations that included king, priest, pastor, and sacrificial victim--even as it subverted those meanings in the figure of Jesus, both shepherd and sacrificial lamb. The concept of the Good Shepherd continued to prove useful for early medieval rulers, such as Charlemagne, but its imperial references waned in the later Middle Ages as it became more exclusively applied to church leaders. Drawing on a range of sources including literature, theological treatises, and political texts, as well as sculpture, mosaics, and manuscript illuminations, The Good Shepherd offers a significant contribution as the first comprehensive study of the long history of the Good Shepherd motif. It also engages the flexible and multivalent abilities of visual and textual symbols to convey multiple meanings in religious and political contexts.

When the main crop on their West Texas farm fails, a young girl hopes to prevent the sale of her beloved horse as she tries to help her parents raise money for a due bank note.

In this sweeping history, bestselling author Amy Chua explains how globally dominant empires—or hyperpowers—rise and why they fall. In a series of brilliant chapter-length studies, she examines the most powerful cultures in history—from the ancient empires of Persia and China to the recent global empires of England and the United States—and reveals the reasons behind their success, as well as the roots of their ultimate demise. Chua's analysis uncovers a fascinating historical pattern: while policies of tolerance and assimilation toward conquered peoples are essential for an empire to succeed, the multicultural society that results introduces new tensions and instabilities, threatening to pull the empire apart from within. What this means for the United States' uncertain future is the subject of Chua's provocative and surprising conclusion.

A comparison of the shepherd metaphor in Matthew's Gospel with its use in early Jewish, Christian, and Graeco-Roman writings, shedding light on Matthew's socio-religious location.

The famous Benin Bronzes are among the most prized possessions of the British Museum. Celebrated for their great beauty, they embody the history, myth and artistry of the ancient Kingdom of Benin, once the most powerful in West Africa and now part of Nigeria. But despite their renown, little has been written about the brutal act of imperial violence through which the Bronzes were plundered. This incisive new history tells that neglected story: the 1897 British invasion of Benin. Diving into the archives, Blood and Bronze sets the assault on Benin in its late Victorian context. As Britain faced new commercial and strategic pressures on its power elsewhere, it ruthlessly expanded its rule in West Africa. Revealing both the extent of African resistance and previously concealed British outrages, this is a definitive account of the conquest and destruction of Benin. By laying bare the Empire's true motives and its violent means, Paddy Docherty demolishes any moral claim for Britain retaining the Bronzes, and makes a passionate case for their immediate repatriation to Nigeria.