Introduction: The Study of Religion and Emotion
Abstract and Keywords
This book is about religion and emotion. It explores the emotional component in religion within the framework of a certain tradition, focusing on emotion in new religious movements. There are essays on Judaism, Christianity, Hinduism, Japanese religions, Buddhism, and Islam. The book remarks on ways that emotion has been overlooked in the study of religious traditions, and how a focus on the emotional can lead to fresh understandings about how persons create, through religion, relationships with nature, deities, and each other. It also includes essays that address the emotion component in various areas of religious life, including ritual, gender, sexuality, music, and material culture. The book shows that emotional life is profoundly shaped by religion, and that religion, in turn, directs and reinforces the construction of emotional ideologies having to do with a wide array of behaviors. In addition, it addresses specific emotions such as ecstasy, love, terror, hate, melancholy, and hope.
The study of emotion has a long history in the West, and almost from its beginning that study has been wrapped in religious phrasings of questions about meaning, contingency, ultimacy, and intention. It also has been to a certain extent characterized by attempts to understand whether and how cognition and emotion are related one to the other. Adopting the physicalist language of his predecessors Empedocles and Hippocrates, Socrates steered theory freighted with heart, blood, and brain imagery into consideration of the moral and good, without losing the corporeal inflection or the specific emphasis on pleasure and pain. Plato added the claim that emotions associated with the immortal soul affected the experience of the body, and Aristotle, who elaborated on the role of blood, heart, and breath, likewise offered a theory of emotion that rested on a philosophical explanation of emotional response, pleasure, and pain, at the same time it linked emotion to cognition. The latter claim has proven to be fundamental to subsequent theorizing, and particularly to interpretation concerned with the roles of emotion and reason in determination of judgments of right and wrong. The Stoics pronounced even more emphatically the intellectual aspect of feeling, making emotion out as a judgment, and adding as well a warning against what they referred to as “passions,” or sudden, ill‐founded, or unreasonably formed opinions. Plotinus, in the early Common Era, developed thinking about emotion more decidedly in the direction of ethics and metaphysics.
(p. 4) For Augustine of Hippo, whose thinking about emotion has profoundly shaped the development of Christian theology, feeling was best understood in connection with volition. Writing within the context of his theologizing about human sinfulness and virtue, Augustine argued that emotions, at bottom, were expressions of will. But differentiating his thinking from that of the Stoics, Augustine imagined emotion at its best in connection with a soul joined to God, and as shaped by that relationship in such a way as to incline it toward the good. At the same time, Augustine, keenly attentive to the likelihood of mixed feelings in people, the conflict of desires, questioned the premise that persons can rely on feeling as a guide of any sort. Accordingly, his thinking about emotion encouraged a searching, empirical psychology of feeling undertaken alongside a rather tenuous reliance on cognition, all framed by a certainty of the need for the directing power of redeeming grace.
As Christian discourses about emotion came to hold sway in the Middle Ages, ideas about the strengths and weaknesses of emotion found their way, in differing emphases, into religious practice as well as intellectual life. The Stoic preference for apatheia, or lack of affect, which could be read in Gregory of Nyssa as well as Augustine, and in various early medieval writers, was never a simple matter of deciding for passionlessness. An emergent Christian rhetoric joined erotic sensibility—writers frequently explored the language of the biblical Songs of Songs in constructing theories of emotion—to an ideal of willful action untainted by passion under the cognitive canopy of “love of God.” As the Middle Ages established knowledge and love of God as two pillars of the religious life, so also did it foster an approach to spiritual rectification through the cultivation of the affections, and through mysticism that offered in many instances a concept of self constructed as the fullness of both feeling and knowing.
Renaissance writers who theorized about religion and emotion echoed Aristotle. They were interested in Thomas Aquinas's processing of Aristotelian ideas generally, and specifically his proposal that passions such as love and hate should be understood in connection with the body, with sensible appetites. They also explored the idea, rooted in Aristotelian thinking and developed by Aquinas, of the “passivity” of the passions in contrast to the “activity” of the soul. In some quarters, thinking about emotion remained until the nineteenth century within the framework proposed by Aquinas, but the debate about emotion shifted ground in the seventeenth century with the publication of works by René Descartes and Benedict Spinoza. Descartes proposed a metaphysics that distinguished physical substance from mental substance, or more specifically will and cognition from human bodies that are limited by the laws of physics. Cartesianism as such profoundly shaped the course of Western philosophical investigation. But Descartes's location of the emotions in that scheme proved problematic. He asserted that emotions were a matter of heart, blood, and brain—that is, physical phenomena—and that the experience of emotion was a matter of sensation of stimulus or activity in the body. At the same time he described emotion in connection with mental phenomena such as belief and conceptualization, leaving it to appear as independent of the (p. 5) body, a part of mind or soul. He eventually concluded that the pineal gland in the brain brought the activated sensations of the body together with mental processing, so that bodily agitation, conveyed through tubes to the pineal gland, was rendered there as fear, surprise, hope, or other emotions. Spinoza, who pursued the topic of emotion as part of his ethical writing, challenged Descartes's theory, rejecting its dualistic metaphysics, and, in a manner similar to the Stoics, arguing instead that emotions were to be resisted as imperfect or defective thoughts about the world. When critically considered, all emotions—and Spinoza defined forty‐one of them—in fact were species of pain, pleasure, or desire. There was no free will to massage sensation into emotional forms experienced as beneficial to the person. The soul did not have potential mastery over emotion in that Cartesian sense. Like Spinoza, David Hume sought to construct a theory about emotion in connection with ethics, arguing that “direct” emotions were simple sensations having to do with pain or pleasure, but indirect passions arose in the mind in connection with ideas.1
Charles Darwin built a case for the similarity of emotions in humans and in other animals, and proposed that emotions develop for their adaptive value, the edge that they provide for survival, preeminently in the collective. The Darwinian notion of the biological and evolutionary basis for emotional life was pursued by various scholars in the twentieth century—notably Paul Ekman and Nico Frijda—but by then other, alternative approaches also were well established, including that of William James, whose theory of emotion, worked out in collaboration with C. G. Lange, echoes Descartes in its claim that emotion is a matter of physical sensations, and Darwin in its references to instinct. James's own thinking about emotion, however, developed in complex ways that the James‐Lange theory did not predict. James eventually conceived of an embodied emotional consciousness that could be understood with reference to cognition and to cultural setting as well as to neurological patterns and physical sensation. That complexity is especially in evidence in his writing about “religious emotion” in The Varieties of Religious Experience (1902).2
Much subsequent writing on emotion, including that focused on religion and emotion, has attempted to define more precisely relationships between cognition and emotion. Robert C. Solomon and Martha Nussbaum, among others, have written about emotions as cognitive judgments, Nussbaum exploring value and ethics in connection to emotion. Robert N. McCauley, Harvey Whitehouse, and Ilkka Pyysiäinen, for example, have applied the insights of cognitive science—a composite of perspectives drawn from the social and behavioral sciences, neuroscience, philosophy, and, increasingly, artificial intelligence modeling—to the study of religion. Cognitive science theories, which generally view emotion as inherently joined to cognition, have been deployed to explore a range of issues, including the manner in which ritual impresses belief through emotional intensity, how “emotional cognition,” derived from brain structures, makes persons susceptible to religion, and how reasoning becomes integrated with feeling in religion.3
The investigation of religion and emotion has been an important part of theological writing, and Christian‐inflected in its tone, through centuries of Western (p. 6) history.4 It likewise has been advanced significantly through utilization of the perspectives of philosophy, psychology, and emergent “cognitive science.” But those approaches are not the only ones Westerners have taken in the study of emotion in religion. That is, the central questions about emotion and religion are not exclusively located within the context of the thinking outlined above. Historians, for example, have surveyed the diverse ways emotion and religion are related in various geographical and chronological settings.5 By extending and complicating the study of historical mentalité, and by drawing on a range of scholarship in the social sciences, historians have charted the ways emotionality has changed over time, and from place to place, and how its role in religious life has varied accordingly. Fear of God meant something different to seventeenth‐century Puritans than it did to twentieth‐century evangelicals, and hatred of sin, an ideal of medieval Christianity, was less valuable an emotional performance to later Unitarians. Historians of religion who research emotion have found it possible to explore profitably in many parts of the world and outside of discourses shaped largely by Christian traditions of understanding religion and emotion. Such research has helped to shape a panorama of variability in the relation of religion and emotion, to foster understanding, for example, about how key emotions having to do with family relationships in Korea changed from the fourteenth to twentieth centuries, as Buddhist ideas took root in Korea and challenged the moral order of the Confucian universe; about how feeling is interwoven with recital of scripture among Indonesian Muslims; and about how sixteenth‐century Jewish mystics constructed emotion itself as seeing, weeping, semen, and death.6
One of the virtues of investigating religion and emotion through the exercise of historical or social scientific approaches is that such approaches make possible observation of how emotion is performed by persons in religious contexts. As a part of religious practice, the expression and concealment of emotion can take many different forms. Certain emotions take precedence in religious life in some cultural settings, while elsewhere other emotions are prominent. Likewise, emotions that play central roles in ritual in one community occasionally impress as being unlike emotional states found in rituals in other communities. The emotion called nuga by the Newar of Nepal denotes a complex of cognitive judgment, moral knowing, consciousness of the divine, and physical sensation: nuga, the physical heart and at the same time a sacred emotion, is actually felt as it flutters and sinks, is pained or leaps.7 Similarly, in devotional activity surrounding a cult of saints in India, worshipers conceive emotional life and enact it in dramas that challenge Western distinctions between conscious and unconscious, individual feeling and collective emotion, rational cognitions and irrational feelings, and embodied emotion/spiritualized emotion.8 The religio‐emotional culture of a seventh‐century Frankish woman differs from that of a sixteenth‐century Spaniard and from a nineteenth‐century American businessman.9 Such insight is conditioned, in recent decades, by scholarly inclination toward a view of cultural difference rather than universalism. Investigators have focused on how emotional life appears to unfold in different ways depending on what cultural group one observes, and with regard to gender, (p. 7) age, class, and other factors within communities. Scholarship has focused in many instances on demonstrating that the components of emotionality—the way a group conceives emotion in relation to thinking and doing, its understanding of particular emotions, its strategies for conveying emotion and for obscuring it, its networking to language—vary from context to context. Nevertheless, most researchers continue to embrace, in some measure, the notion that certain aspects of emotional life are consistent across cultural boundaries.10 Such a position should not be confused with an orthodox universalism but appreciated rather as an openness to discovering what aspects of emotionality are shared, and especially as those might be identified by psychology, neuroscience, and philosophy.
Studying Religion and Emotion
Emotion plays a fundamental role in religion. In the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, theorists ranging from Friedrich Schleiermacher and Rudolf Otto to Emile Durkheim, Sigmund Freud, and William James attempted to define that role. Whether the emphasis was on the power of emotion to bind social collectives or on emotion in religion as “oceanic feeling” or “feeling of absolute dependence,” most writing about religion proceeded on the assumption that human emotionality was a constituent element of religious life. In the latter part of the twentieth century, theories of religion that emerged especially from the social sciences reiterated the claim that emotion was central to religion. In the work of Robert Bellah, Clifford Geertz, and, eventually, Rodney Stark, “feeling” of one sort or another was integral to religion.11 But in these theories, and others of the time, emotion itself remained largely undefined. Was it the processing of pleasure and pain? Was it evidence of the movement of the soul? Was it learned, all or in part, from culture? Were there specifically religious emotions? What emotions were more important than others when it came to religion? Was emotion all nerves and chemicals? To what extent was language a guide to emotionality? Was there a bodily language of emotion? Theorists' reluctance to venture theory that would follow from serious attention to such questions is partly understandable in view of the fact that it is only in recent years that research has begun to press those questions systematically. That is, the formation of a scholarly consensus that emotion was as susceptible to analysis as any other aspect of human experience was slow in arriving. In addition, as is sometimes the case in moments of rapidly developing scholarly research in a certain area, studies of emotion did not always line up with each other in a manner that pointed the way to the most fruitful areas of study. There was until recently insufficient intellectual ballast to the field of emotions studies—at least in terms of its place as a subject that easily crossed disciplinary bounds—to steady research on the more promising courses of investigation. Moreover, discussion of emotion, (p. 8) which calls onto the playing field an assortment of often deeply held beliefs about self and culture, has been prone to polarization. Looking across the chasm from one side to another can discourage writers from undertaking works of synthesis that can serve as acknowledged markers of the state of the field and as theoretical platforms for progressively extending the study of emotion into new areas.
As research on emotion has advanced at accelerated rate in recent years, and as that research has crossed from one field into another and gained coherence in so doing, the new study of religion and emotion has been able to articulate its agenda more clearly. Most important, the potential rewards of approaching religion through a focus on emotion have become more visible. By looking at religion as a human undertaking in which emotion plays a key role, and by recognizing that there are many different ways to legitimately define emotion and describe its place in culture, researchers greatly enlarge the territory that might be surveyed for its religious aspects. More specifically, by focusing on emotion, those who study religion position themselves so as to be able to include in their investigations data drawn from sources that often are neglected. The study of religion and emotion provides a way to discuss religion as a human activity that is embedded in everyday life in the felt relations individuals experience with other persons, nature, and the holy personages to whom they are devoted.
The study of religion and emotion, in one instance, can pursue understanding of the religious lives of persons by exploring the linguistic expression of emotion. That is, one way to enhance understanding of, for example, an act of prayer, is to approach the act linguistically, centering investigation on the ways emotion is expressed in the spoken words of participants. When persons tearfully pledge their “heart” to a deity, are they referring to a composite thinking/feeling self, as did, for example, the Shakers? Does a reference to the heart, when viewed against the background of cultural meanings about emotion, cognition, and the body, identify a physical state, a physical feeling? Is heart metaphor or substance? Does it signify a form of attachment that is to be distinguished from the kinds of attachments individuals form with other persons or things? Are there practiced, culturally grounded performances of emotion that frame the offering of the heart as a possibility only in religious contexts? What are the interlocking vocabularies of feeling that are religiously drawn together in reference to the heart? Is a woman's heart different from a man's, and if so, is her religious offering meaningful in a different way? Do children have the same hearts as adults? The short answer to questions such as these is that the way to making sense of what is happening when a person pledges the heart is through the investigation of social relations, family dynamics, physical states, conceptions of self, local epistemologies, and other factors. Emotion taken for granted as something that “everybody knows,” or universally experiences or conceives in the same way, discourages exploration into the personal and cultural bits and pieces that lie behind the scene of an emotional event. Emotional life is to a certain extent culturally constructed, and it is through the examination of elements of culture that we can uncover the meanings of enacted emotion.12
(p. 9) The study of religion and emotion also opens opportunities to draw into analysis, in a pointed way, local ideas about the body and about cultural practice that dramatizes the body, including eating and sexual behaviors and exercising, grooming, and dressing the body. A central aspect of the current renaissance in the academic study of emotion is the focus on the display of emotion in facial expression and in other bodily postures, and the place of such physical exercises in broader ideologies of the body. Building on research that relates emotional expression to the body, religion scholars can fashion more richly textured interpretations of religion. Tracking emotional expression backward, as it were, into culturally specific notions of the body and its activities enables investigators to link that expression of emotion more confidently into interlocking ideologies, such as those having to do with gender, age, race, disease, and healing. So, for example, as Paul M. Toomey has shown, we learn much about religious ritual when we attend to the ways emotional expression is accomplished through the preparation and presentation of food in worship. Analyzing emotional display among Indian pilgrims, Toomey explains how different kinds of emotions—maternal emotion, amorous emotions, and others—are represented as different kinds of food and styles of eating in various groups of pilgrims. Observing a strong correlation between certain emotional states and certain styles of eating food, Toomey concludes that food in fact is a metaphor and metonym for emotion. Such analysis opens a pathway into engaging underexplored aspects of the pilgrim's devotion, including how ritual performance is framed by emotional relationships within the family who prepare and eat the food, and between members of the collective who share assumptions about the social meaning of eating.13
Another example of how a focus on emotion can enrich scholarly interpretation of religious life is through examination of religious cultures with respect to specific emotions. Jean Delumeau, in Sin and Fear: The Emergence of a Western Guilt Culture, 13th–18th Centuries, narrates a cultural history of sin by demonstrating the centrality of a specific emotion to that culture. Delumeau is able to incorporate a remarkably broad range of data into his interpretation, weaving together multiple themes by invoking the human experience of fear as connective tissue between them. In his account, identity, memory, self, consciousness, art, family, political revolution, anorexia, the topics of Catholic sermons in France, the preaching style of Gilbert Tennent at Princeton, and the danse macabre, among many other things, acquire meaning inasmuch as they are positioned as cultural artifacts in a Western society preoccupied by fear and guilt. Similarly, Charlotte Hardman, in Other Worlds: Notions of Self and Emotion among the Lohorung Rai, is able to assemble a richly diverse body of evidence for her exploration of the religious ritual and metaphysics of a Nepalese community through focusing on what the Lohorung Rai call saya—a complex emotion experienced in connection with one's relationships to an animated community of deceased ancestors and living family members and neighbors. Hardman is able to demonstrate how a community metaphysics is constructed around an emotional center. Her recognition of (p. 10) the embeddedness of everyday life in emotionality leads her to realizations of the profound interdependencies in Lohorung Rai thinking about such things as dress, food, property, space, death, marriage, illness, consciousness, loss, and more familiar emotions, such as anger. In short, Hardman's strategy of exploring religion in Lohorung Rai culture through emotion furnishes her with opportunities to illustrate the relevance of a great many cultural artifacts, interconnected through an ideology of feeling, to the fashioning of a religious life.14
The study of religion and emotion in current scholarship is particularly important for its interdisciplinary quality. The work of historians, social and behavioral scientists, philosophers, psychologists, literary critics, and neuroscientists, as well as writing that incorporates a theological perspective, has been important in defining the area of study. The way work in these various areas has overlapped, the way insights have been pursued across disciplinary lines, is especially impressive. As is often the case when scholars prospect a new area (or rediscover it), the study of emotion generally, and the study of religion and emotion particularly, has been shaped by intellectual exchange between groups of persons who approach the topic from different directions. Academic curiosity no doubt accounts for some such cross‐pollination, but it is also likely consequent to the fact that the literature of emotions studies is not yet firmly cast into discipline‐specific languages that frustrate thinking across academically established boundaries. Accordingly, the new study of religion and emotion is an academic undertaking that holds potential, at least at this relatively early stage in its development, for underwriting a conceptualization of religion as something more complicated than has been traditionally supposed. Whereas in the past emotion was often considered to be an explanation in itself, something irreducible, there currently is a critical mass of research in the sciences and the humanities sufficient to overcome that chauvinism. As interdisciplinary endeavor continues, it can provide opportunities for clarifying the ways emotions are involved in religion by stretching theory to new applications, in the way that groundbreaking work by Peter N. Stearns and Carol Z. Stearns on “emotionology” joined psychological insight to historical investigation.15
The Essays on Religion and Emotion
This volume is organized in four parts. The first, “Religious Traditions,” includes essays that explore the emotional component in religion within the framework of a certain tradition. It includes as well an essay on emotion in new religious movements. These essays, on Judaism, Christianity, Hinduism, Japanese religions, Buddhism, and Islam do not attempt comprehensive overviews of emotion as it is (p. 11) conceptualized or practiced throughout the tradition but, rather, explore emotion in the tradition with respect to a certain cluster of ideas or practices. The authors of these chapters likewise remark on ways emotion has been overlooked in the study of religious traditions, and how a focus on the emotional can lead to fresh understandings about how persons create, through religion, relationships with nature, deities, and each other.
In part II, several essays address the emotion component in various areas of religious life, including ritual, gender, sexuality, music, and material culture. Emotion, whether as part of specifically devotional activities that are undertaken at sacred sites or in connection with the everyday behavior of persons, can be seen as integral to the practice of religion. The analyses of religious life in these chapters make it clear that emotional life is profoundly shaped by religion, and that religion, in turn, directs and reinforces the construction of emotional ideologies having to do with a wide array of behaviors. Of particular importance is the place of emotion in the creative and imaginative aspects of religious life—how music, for example, or sexuality, or the production of material culture are shaped through appeal to feeling, and how feeling leads to innovation and experimentation in form.
The essays in part III address specific emotions: ecstasy, love, terror, hate, melancholy, and hope. In different ways, each of these essays explores the way a religious emotion is conceptualized and expressed, and how it is woven deeply into the fabric of religious life. Again, the aim has been to illustrate each emotion with reference to a limited number of settings in which it appears, rather than to comprehensively survey it, although each of the essays in this section offers an interpretation of the role of an emotion in religion generally.
Part IV includes essays that analyze the thinking of persons whose theories about emotion and religion historically have been influential, as well as essays that address leading themes in recent research. Augustine and William James, already mentioned, are of particular importance. So also are the perspectives of the French sociologist Emile Durkheim and the German intellectuals Friedrich Schleiermacher and Rudolf Otto. In this part of the book, the contributions of brain science and cultural anthropology to the study of religion and emotion also are described and positioned vis à vis older schools of thought.
Taken together, all the essays provide a preliminary base on which to rest the new study of religion and emotion. They are meant as contributions toward defining this area of investigation, and they are likewise meant to provoke new approaches and interpretations. Taken together, they identify the study of religion and emotion as an enterprise that has deep historical roots in philosophy and theology on the one hand, and on the other, as an undertaking that has only recently begun to cohere as a scholarly project, as work in a wide range of disciplines has converged. One of the most important consequences for the turn to emotion in the study of religion is that research will be better positioned to incorporate emotion more substantially into interpretation of all religious belief and practice. Emotion no longer can be set aside as an unknown, as a hopelessly complex area of human life unsusceptible to analysis. Emotion is a fundamental (p. 12) part of human experience. To study religion without reference to it is to strip religion of one of its central components, and in so doing to render it motionless, inert, and monotonous.
(1.) René Descartes, The Passions of the Soul, translated and annotated by Stephen Voss (Indianapolis: Hackett, 1989); Benedict Spinoza, Ethics, translated by G. H. R. Parkinson (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000); David Hume, A Treatise of Human Nature, edited by David Fate Norton and Mary J. Norton (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000).
(2.) Charles Darwin, The Expression of Emotion in Men and Animals (New York: Oxford University Press, 2002); Paul Ekman, The Face of Man: Expressions of Universal Emotions in a New Guinea Village (New York: Garland STPM Press, 1980) and “Biological and Cultural Contributions to Body and Facial Movement,” in Anthropology of the Body, edited by John Blacking (London: Academic Press, 1977); Nico H. Fridja, The Emotions (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1986).
(3.) Robert N. McCauley and E. T. Lawson, Bringing Ritual to Mind: Psychological Foundations of Cultural Forms (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002); Harvey Whitehouse, Modes of Religiosity: A Cognitive Theory of Religious Transmission (Walnut Creek, Calif.: AltaMira Press, 2004); Ilkka Pyysiainen, Belief and Beyond: Religious Categorization of Reality (Åbo: Åbo Akademi, 1996), and “Cognition, Emotion, and Religious Experience,” in Religion in Mind: Cognitive Perspectives on Religious Belief, Ritual, and Experience, edited by Jensine Andresen (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001), 70–93.
(4.) See John Corrigan, Eric Crump, and John Kloos, Emotion and Religion: A Critical Assessment and Annotated Bibliography (Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press, 2000), especially 121–74, “Theological Studies.”
(5.) John Corrigan, “History, Religion, and Emotion: An Historiographical Survey,” in Corrigan, Business of the Heart: Religion and Emotion in the Nineteenth Century (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2002), 269–280.
(6.) JaHyun Kim Haboush, “Filial Emotions and Filial Values: Changing Patterns in the Discourse of Filiality in Late Chosŏn Korea,” in John Corrigan, Religion and Emotion: Approaches and Interpretation (New York: Oxford University Press, 2004), 75–113; Eliot R. Wolfson, “Weeping, Death, and Spiritual Ascent in Sixteenth‐Century Jewish Mysticism,” in Corrigan, Religion and Emotion, 271–303; Anna M. Gade, Perfection Makes Practice: Learning, Emotion, and the Recited Quran in Indonesia (Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press, 2004); Joel Marks and Roger T. Ames, eds., Emotions in Asian Thought: A Dialogue in Comparative Philosophy (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1995).
(7.) Steven M. Parish, “The Sacred Mind: Newar Representations of Mental Life and the Production of Moral Consciousness,” in Corrigan, Religion and Emotion, 149–83.
(8.) Paul M. Toomey, “Krishna's Consuming Passions: Food as Metaphor and Metonym for Emotion at Mount Govardhan,” in Corrigan, Religion and Emotion, 223–47.
(9.) Catherine Peyroux, “Gertrude's Furor: Reading Anger in an Early Medieval Saint's Life,” in Corrigan, Religion and Emotion, 305–25; William A. Christian, Jr., “Provoked Religious Weeping in Early Modern Spain,” in Corrigan, Religion and Emotion, 33–49; John Corrigan, Business of the Heart.
(10.) A criticism of universalism is in Catherine A. Lutz, Unnatural Emotions: Everyday Sentiments on a Micronesian Atoll and Their Challenge to Western Theory (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1988). A criticism of the antiuniversalist position and a proposal for a theoretical middle ground is in William M. Reddy, The Navigation of Feeling: A Framework for the History of Emotions (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2001). See also Gary L. Ebersole, “The Function of Ritual Weeping Revisited: Affective Expression and Moral Discourse,” in Corrigan, Religion and Emotion, 185–221.
(11.) Robert Bellah, Beyond Belief: Essays on Religion in a Post‐traditional World (New York: Harper and Row, 1970); Clifford Geertz, “Religion as a Cultural System,” in Anthropological Approaches to the Study of Religion, edited by Michael Banton (London: Tavistock, 1969), 8–12, and Local Knowledge (New York: Basic Books, 1983), for a more refined view; Rodney Stark, “Micro Foundations of Religion: A Revised Theory,” Sociological Theory 17 (1999):264–89.
(12.) Sally M. Promey, Spiritual Spectacles: Vision and Image in Mid‐nineteenth‐century Shakerism (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1993); June McDaniel, “Emotion in Bengali Religious Thought: Substance and Metaphor,” in Corrigan, Religion and Emotion, 249–69; Helene Basu, “Hierarchy and Emotion: Love, Joy and Sorrow in a Cult of Black Saints in Gujarat, India,” in Corrigan, Religion and Emotion, 51–73.
(13.) Toomey, “Krishna's Consuming Passions.”
(14.) Jean Delumeau, Sin and Fear: The Emergence of a Western Guilt Culture: Thirteenth–Eighteenth Centuries, translated by Eric Nicholson (New York: St. Martin's Press, 1990); Charlotte Hardman, Other Worlds: Notions of Self and Emotion among the Lohorung Rai (Oxford: Berg, 2000).
(15.) Peter N. Stearns with Carol Z. Stearns, “Emotionology: Clarifying the History of Emotions and Emotional Standards,” American Historical Review 90 (October 1985): 813–36.