Christian environmentalism's dominant traditions have for too long avoided decolonial thought's critical gaze. Reconsider the Lilies introduces readers to the ways environmental issues are shaped by dynamics of racism and colonialism and orients readers to Christian approaches to environmentalism. By recounting the history of environmental justice, Thompson shows how even well-intentioned Christian environmentalism incorporates racist and colonialist assumptions. Challenging Christian environmentalism's colonial roots requires incorporating the insights of decolonial thought toward a more pluralist, pragmatic approach to environmentalism, one that learns from communities struggling against environmental injustice in the face of ecological collapse. Reconsider the Lilies focuses on different conceptions of justice and structural sin and offers a constructive cosmic Christology that traces Christ's presence in the concrete relationships that exist among all living things. But for this Christ-centered conception of ecological community to be decolonial, it must focus less on doctrine and ideology, and more on incarnation and embodiment. It must welcome a broad range of knowledge and expression. Environmental theology can be decolonized. Ecological communities can be restored through healing broken relationships and power disparities by equalizing access to ecological power.

Christian environmentalism's dominant traditions have for too long avoided decolonial thought's critical gaze. Reconsider the Lilies introduces readers to the ways environmental issues are shaped by dynamics of racism and colonialism and orients readers to Christian approaches to environmentalism. By recounting the history of environmental justice, Thompson shows how even well-intentioned Christian environmentalism incorporates racist and colonialist assumptions. Challenging Christian environmentalism's colonial roots requires incorporating the insights of decolonial thought toward a more pluralist, pragmatic approach to environmentalism, one that learns from communities struggling against environmental injustice in the face of ecological collapse. Reconsider the Lilies focuses on different conceptions of justice and structural sin and offers a constructive cosmic Christology that traces Christ's presence in the concrete relationships that exist among all living things. But for this Christ-centered conception of ecological community to be decolonial, it must focus less on doctrine and ideology, and more on incarnation and embodiment. It must welcome a broad range of knowledge and expression. Environmental theology can be decolonized. Ecological communities can be restored through healing broken relationships and power disparities by equalizing access to ecological power.

This book is not about so-called alternative medicine. It is about standard, orthodox medicine that had many good treatments for cancer up until the early 20th century. For reasons of power and control of the population, it was decided around 1910 that only radiation and surgery would be the approved treatments (and chemo was later added in the 1950s). Maxwell shows how physicians who tried to use the older methods were threatened with loss of their medical license or were more harshly punished. These include Emanuel Revici, Virginia Livingston, and Robert Lincoln. She also argues that Edward Jenner engaged on fraud re smallpox vaccination.

When Jesus offers his body as a promise to his disciples, he initiates a liturgical framework that is driven by irony and betrayal. Through these deconstructive elements, however, the promise invites the disciples into an intimate space where they anticipate the fulfilment of what is to come. The Last Supper, symbol of unfinished life and sacrifice, becomes the common thread between John Donne and Emily Dickinson, whose poetics acquire liturgical - and therefore eschatological - features, and body and text become the same. By tracing the displacing and yet co-ordinating theme of the body as a textual presence, Liturgical Liaisons opens into new readings of Donne and Dickinson in a way that enriches how these figures are understood as poets. The result is a risky and rewarding understanding of how these two gurus challenged accepted theological norms of their day.

In 1837, while charting the Amazonian country of Guiana for Great Britain, German naturalist Robert Schomburgk discovered an astounding "vegetable wonder"--a huge water lily whose leaves were five or six feet across and whose flowers were dazzlingly white. In England, a horticultural nation with a mania for gardens and flowers, news of the discovery sparked a race to bring a live specimen back, and to bring it to bloom. In this extraordinary plant, named Victoria regia for the newly crowned queen, the flower-obsessed British had found their beau ideal. In The Flower of Empire, Tatiana Holway tells the story of this magnificent lily, revealing how it touched nearly every aspect of Victorian life, art, and culture. Holway's colorful narrative captures the sensation stirred by Victoria regia in England, particularly the intense race among prominent Britons to be the first to coax the flower to bloom. We meet the great botanists of the age, from the legendary Sir Joseph Banks, to Sir William Jackson Hooker, director of the Royal Botanic Gardens at Kew, to the extravagant flower collector the Duke of Devonshire. Perhaps most important was the Duke's remarkable gardener, Joseph Paxton, who rose from garden boy to knight, and whose design of a series of ever-more astonishing glass-houses--one, the Big Stove, had a footprint the size of Grand Central Station--culminated in his design of the architectural wonder of the age, the Crystal Palace. Fittingly, Paxton based his design on a glass-house he had recently built to house Victoria regia. Indeed, the natural ribbing of the lily's leaf inspired the pattern of girders supporting the massive iron-and-glass building. From alligator-laden jungle ponds to the heights of Victorian society, The Flower of Empire unfolds the marvelous odyssey of this wonder of nature in a revealing work of cultural history.

My Sweet Dream / My Living Nightmare: Adobe Walls

What was the original purpose of the Gospel of Matthew? For whom was it written? In this magisterial two-volume commentary, Walter Wilson interprets Matthew as a catechetical work that expresses the ideological and institutional concerns of a faction of disaffected Jewish followers of Jesus in the late first century CE. Wilson’s compelling thesis frames Matthew’s Gospel as not only a continuation of the biblical story but also as a didactic narrative intended to shape the commitments and identity of a particular group that saw itself as a beleaguered, dissident minority. Thus, the text clarifies Jesus’s essential Jewish character as the “Son of David” while also portraying him in opposition to prominent religious leaders of his day—most notably the Pharisees—and open to cordial association with non-Jews. Through meticulous engagement with the Greek text of the Gospel, as well as relevant primary sources and secondary literature, Wilson offers a wealth of insight into the first book of the New Testament. After an introduction exploring the background of the text, its genre and literary features, and its theological orientation, Wilson explicates each passage of the Gospel with thorough commentary on the intended message to first-century readers about topics like morality, liturgy, mission, group discipline, and eschatology. Scholars, students, pastors, and all readers interested in what makes the Gospel of Matthew distinctive among the Synoptics will appreciate and benefit from Wilson’s deep contextualization of the text, informed by his years of studying the New Testament and Christian origins.