The Bible teems with nonhuman life, from its opening pages with God's creation of animals on the same day and out of the same earth as humans to its closing apocalyptic scenes of horses riding out of the sky. Animals are Adam's companions, Noah's shipmates, and Elijah's saviors. They are at the center of ancient Israel's religious life as sacrifices and yet, as Job discovers, beyond human dominion. It is an animal that saves Balaam from certain death by an angel's hand, and an animal that carries Jesus into Jerusalem. The Creator declares all of them good at the beginning, and since the Apostle Paul writes of God's eternal purposes for all things on earth, they are somehow part of a hoped-for eschatological restoration. So why are animals so often ignored in Christian moral discourse? In its theological thinking and faith-motivated praxis, human-centeredness typically results in the complete erasure of the nonhuman. This book argues that this exclusion of animals is problematic for those who see the Bible as authoritative for the religious life. Instead, biblical literature bears witness to a more inclusive understanding of moral duty and faith-motivated largesse that extends also to Eden's other residents.

A comparative sociological account of eight different therapeutic communities, One Foot in Eden, originally published in 1988, was the first study in this area to compare observational material from such a large number of settings. The communities chosen represent the wide variety of therapeutic community practice at the time: a residential Rudolf Steiner school for mentally handicapped children; two contrasting residential psychiatric units; a community for the treatment of addiction; a communally organised community for mentally handicapped and disturbed young people; a psychiatric day hospital; and two contrasting halfway houses for disturbed adolescents. All these places are recognised therapeutic communities seeking to mobilise the social life of the community as an instrument of therapy, yet, as this study shows, they follow different (and sometimes antithetical) treatment practices. The book also directs new light on other areas, of particular concern to sociologists, such as the general properties of therapeutic work and the socialisation process as it is experienced by new community residents. It will be of special interest to therapeutic community staff, to sociologists of medicine and occupations, and to others involved in the care of disturbed and handicapped people.

In the third and exciting final installment of the Rachel & Eden trilogy, Ro suddenly finds herself under the microscope of two Seattle forensics investigators and Eden reaches out to a beloved recording artist as a way to pay tribute to the memory of her son.

Eden's greatest wish has finally come true. No longer confined to her lamp, she begins a spectacular life in Manhattan with her new guardian, Pepper, a bubbly genie alum who's also a Broadway actress. Eden only gets a taste of the city's wonders before she's whisked away for a wish granting--she is still a genie with a job, after all. David Brightly isn't like other wishers Eden has met. The owner of the world's leading tech company seems more interested in tapping into the lamp's power than making his first wish. Trapped in Brightly's laboratory and unable to get to the lamp, Eden has no choice but to escape and go on the run. She finds herself on the streets of Paris, nowhere near out of danger. Brightly has half the city searching for Eden, claiming she is his kidnapped daughter. She manages to don a disguise and get word of her predicament out to the loyal genies on earth. But Paris is also headquarters of Electra, a group of former genies bent on revenge against Eden, and it seems the scheming Sylvana has teamed up with Brightly to seize the lamp's power once and for all. Eden embarks on a dangerous mission to retrieve the lamp and protect the centuries-old genie legacy. But Brightly has more tricks up his sleeve than any mortal Eden has met. Soon, every genie will have to pick a side in an epic showdown against the greatest threat the lamp has ever faced.

"Eden by Design is a compelling and fascinating description of a possible Los Angeles that never came to be. Greg Hise and William Deverell have resurrected the Olmsted Brothers' 1930 plan for Los Angeles County, and then, in a wonderful introduction, put the plan in context so that to read it now is to see not only what seemed dangerous and possible in 1930 but also how and why one route to the present was chosen over others. In their hands, the plan acts like a ghost of Los Angeles, reminding us about a vanished past, lost possibilities, and the secrets that our present masks."--Richard White, author of The Organic Machine "The Report is not only a vital document in the history of Los Angeles . . . but a lost classic of a neglected golden age of city planning and landscape architecture. . . . It embodies a truly regional perspective; an ecological perspective; a long-range vision; an integration of design with finance and administration; and a truly grand interpretation of public space. It deserves to be known to every serious student of the American planning tradition."--Robert Fishman, author of Bourgeois Utopias: The Rise and Fall of Suburbia "An essential document for understanding the history of the West's largest city. Los Angeles had the opportunity to become an extraordinarily beautiful environment, a Paris in the desert. The editors make clear why, sadly, it did not; but also they hold out hope that portions of this brilliant but neglected plan might still be recovered."--Donald Worster, author of Nature's Economy: A History of Ecological Ideas "A welcome addition to the literature of American urban planning history."--Roger Montgomery, Professor of Architecture Emeritus, University of California, Berkeley

Drinking a glass of tap water, strolling in a park, hopping a train for the suburbs: some aspects of city life are so familiar that we don’t think twice about them. But such simple actions are structured by complex relationships with our natural world. The contours of these relationships—social, cultural, political, economic, and legal—were established during America’s first great period of urbanization in the nineteenth century, and Boston, one of the earliest cities in America, often led the nation in designing them. A richly textured cultural and social history of the development of nineteenth-century Boston, this book provides a new environmental perspective on the creation of America’s first cities. Eden on the Charles explores how Bostonians channeled country lakes through miles of pipeline to provide clean water; dredged the ocean to deepen the harbor; filled tidal flats and covered the peninsula with houses, shops, and factories; and created a metropolitan system of parks and greenways, facilitating the conversion of fields into suburbs. The book shows how, in Boston, different class and ethnic groups brought rival ideas of nature and competing visions of a “city upon a hill” to the process of urbanization—and were forced to conform their goals to the realities of Boston’s distinctive natural setting. The outcomes of their battles for control over the city’s development were ultimately recorded in the very fabric of Boston itself. In Boston’s history, we find the seeds of the environmental relationships that—for better or worse—have defined urban America to this day.