Professional Documents
Culture Documents
“This scholarly book provides a unique and coherent collection of ideas from
international researchers and practitioners. It promotes innovative research and
practice and is outstanding in its conceptual appreciation of diversity. It draws
together strategies to support the inclusion of a diverse range of students—racial,
gendered, social class/socioeconomic status, and dis/ability, and some with com-
plex backgrounds often rarely considered in equity policy in higher education.
In short this is an outstanding book with international appeal and the mes-
sages and practices contained in this book need to be heard by all in education
and in society in general! Every policy maker in education needs to read
this book!”
—Dr Gavin Reid, Psychologist and Author. Visiting Professor,
University of British Columbia (UBC) in Vancouver, Canada
“This volume goes a long way to extend the conversation about equity, diversity
and inclusion in our higher education institutions. It provides a contemporary
take on lowering institutional barriers, providing meaningful and effective sup-
port, and takes an unequivocal, learner-centred stance to teaching and the design
of the curriculum to ensure the success of individuals and equity groups. More
importantly, it normalises and celebrates those students as critical to the success
of the higher education enterprise. It is an excellent book and should be required
reading for all leaders and teachers in higher education.”
—Professor Kylie Readman, Pro Vice Chancellor
for Education, Murdoch University, Australia
“The chapters in this edited collection offer a refreshingly insightful and close
analysis of social and academic exclusion within higher education. Together, the
chapters demonstrate attentiveness to the intricate workings of structural and
cultural modes of exclusion and how these produce interrelated inequalities of
access, participation and outcome for students and staff. The book then har-
nesses these insights to develop a range of practical and pragmatic suggestions
for combating exclusion. This engaged commitment to action makes this book
particularly valuable for a wide range of university staff, including faculty, man-
agement and student support.”
—Carol A. Taylor, Professor of Higher Education and
Gender, Director of Research, University of Bath, UK
“‘Gail Crimmvins’ Strategies for Supporting Inclusion and Diversity in the Academy
is a thoughtful and inclusive inquiry into how leaders can maximize the human
potential in their institutions. This volume interrogates exclusionary practices
that limits access along the axes of race and ethnicity, gender and sexuality, abil-
ity status, and social class. In these 19 chapters, leading scholars bring forth
inclusive actions and practices that will be of immense value to scholars and
practitioners working towards an inclusive and equitable environment for all
those within higher education—a goal all leaders in all institutions should
strive for.”
—Richard J. Reddick, Associate Dean for Equity, Community
Engagement, and Outreach, The University of Texas at Austin, USA
Strategies
for Supporting
Inclusion and
Diversity in the
Academy
Higher Education, Aspiration
and Inequality
Editor
Gail Crimmins
School of Creative Industries
University of the Sunshine Coast
Maroochydore, QLD, Australia
© The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s), under exclusive licence to Springer Nature
Switzerland AG 2020
This work is subject to copyright. All rights are solely and exclusively licensed by the Publisher, whether
the whole or part of the material is concerned, specifically the rights of translation, reprinting, reuse
of illustrations, recitation, broadcasting, reproduction on microfilms or in any other physical way, and
transmission or information storage and retrieval, electronic adaptation, computer software, or by similar
or dissimilar methodology now known or hereafter developed.
The use of general descriptive names, registered names, trademarks, service marks, etc. in this publication
does not imply, even in the absence of a specific statement, that such names are exempt from the relevant
protective laws and regulations and therefore free for general use.
The publisher, the authors and the editors are safe to assume that the advice and information in this book
are believed to be true and accurate at the date of publication. Neither the publisher nor the authors or
the editors give a warranty, expressed or implied, with respect to the material contained herein or for any
errors or omissions that may have been made. The publisher remains neutral with regard to jurisdictional
claims in published maps and institutional affiliations.
This Palgrave Macmillan imprint is published by the registered company Springer Nature Switzerland AG.
The registered company address is: Gewerbestrasse 11, 6330 Cham, Switzerland
To Dave, Eadie and Will
And I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any
version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you (Kiersten White 2013).
I’d choose you again and again.
Foreword
—Tim Villegas
Preface
practitioners and academics who work towards social, racial, gender and
dis/ability e/quality, I hope to motivate direct action against social and
academic exclusion in the academy.
The collection is comprised of four main sections (excluding this introduction,
a framing chapter—Chap. 1, and conclusion—Chap. 19). These include:
Part II: Supporting Racial Diversity in the Academy. This section starts
with an introduction to and overview of policy and practice relating to
the promotion of race equality ethnic diversity in the Academy over two
decades in the UK. Professor Andrew Pilkington offers an account of
policy intent, action, and diversion in a repetitious pattern. He also iden-
tifies some clear strategy for breaking this self-repeating cycle by focusing
on accountability and outcomes in race equity in higher education. In
Chap. 3 Rebecca Gordon and Lakshmi S. Bose expose the limitations of
existing doctoral training programs and their opportunity to create epis-
temological pluralism. The doctoral program is thus presented as a mech-
anism to include a diversity of knowledges, ways of knowing, and knowers
in the academy that has the capacity to inform all future curricula. In
Chap. 4, Associate Professor Sandy O’Sullivan discusses the radical re-
thinking (and tearing down of existing structure) required to the support
of First Nations’ diversity in the modern university; including sensitising
the readers to the compounding impacts of gender non-conformity and
Indigeneity upon inclusion in HE. Dr Aura Lounasmaa, in Chap. 5,
explores institution-wide process and curriculum patterning designed to
support the inclusion of refugees in the context of neoliberalism. Within
the chapter, student-centred pedagogy is explored as a case study of good
equity practice. In Chap. 6 Dr Tina Lathouras demonstrates how a criti-
cal relational approach to community development can be adapted to
engage international students in post-graduate study. Lathouras also
employs a student-centred pedagogy to include the voice/s of interna-
tional students to inform the recruitment and engagement of interna-
tional students and action research to iteratively improve diversity and
inclusion in a Social Work program.
Part III explores strategy to engender gender diversity in HE. The first chapter
in this section, collaboratively written, focuses on a culturally sensitive research
support and mentorship program designed to engage Black American scholars
and graduate students to ‘thrive’ in the academy. Next, in Chap. 8, Professor
Preface xiii
Kurana Chanana, explores both the processes and positive impacts of strategies
of gender inclusion in institutions of higher education in India. The chapter
specifically employs Indian women academics’ voices and their lived experience
of gender equity strategy to provide evidence of successful interventions that
might be adapted and implemented in other environments. In Chap. 9 Dr Tània
Verge outlines a series of measures employed to mainstream gender into the
quality assurance in Catalan universities. The chapter demonstrates the positive
impact that a collaborative approach to gender equity, which includes govern-
ment, university senior staff, and gender equity and Women’s Studies scholars,
can achieve. Chapter 10 focuses on strategy to support inclusion and success for
LGBTQ College Students and presents some easy to implement interventions
to include people of all sexualities in the academy. Drs Stephanie Mckendry and
Matson Lawrence also focus on interventions to support trans, non-binary and
gender diverse students and staff, and outline some of the processes developed
within the TransEDU project based at the University of Strathclyde, Scotland.
The TransEDU project is held up as best practice and was awarded a Guardian
University Award, a Herald Scotland & GenAnalytics Diversity Award, and a
Strathclyde Medal Team Award in 2018.
Part IV examines strategy to support working-class or Low
Socioeconomic status (LSES) students in academia in Chap. 12 Dr Dawn
Mannay and Dr Michael Ward discuss ‘The Coffee Club’—an initiative
for mature and non-traditional university students. Creating a space for
networking, social inclusion and access to academic support, non-tradi-
tional learners can feel both included and heard. Such spaces also help to
create opportunity for student voice to inform academic and student
support process. In Chap. 13 Sally Tazewell demonstrates how she
employs a ‘funds of knowledge approach’ to engage diverse cohorts
through active and personally relevant learning. She outlines a pedagogy
and co-curricular design process designed to support epistemic equity by
valuing students and their existing knowledges, ways of working, inter-
ests and priorities. Chapter 14 investigates how students who have been
in the care system or looked after by local government services, transition
to higher education. Gemma Allnatt employs a case study methodology
to determine the need for partnerships between local authority and uni-
versities to both motivate aspiration and maintain care structures
throughout university. In Chap. 15 Dr Antoinette Geagea and Associate
Professor Judith MacCallum present a model of university outreach and
xiv Preface
school liaison that are designed to engage low SES students’ aspirations
for higher education. The chapter examines how a collaboration between
university and local industry can create a community of stakeholders
working collectively to engage students from non-traditional learning
backgrounds.
Part V: Disabling the Barrier of Dis/Ability in HE. Chapter 16 illustrates an
exemplary model of inclusive higher education (IHE), successfully implemented
at Vanderbilt University, USA, through the Next Steps at Vanderbilt program.
This chapter communicates how and why it provides college students with intel-
lectual disability the opportunity to learn and grow alongside their typically
developing peers in a rich and diverse academic environment. In Chap. 17 Dr
Susan Grimes discusses an ecological approach to address barriers to learning
within institutions that may create disability for those students with impair-
ments and presents the perspective of students on what would improve learning
for them in their university. They suggest that increased flexibility in delivery
and increased interaction with both teachers and peers, would improve their
engagement and sense of ‘belonging’. Finally, in Chap. 18 Dr Jacque Caskey
explores a tertiary educational inclusion strategy identified by 22 adult students
who have dyslexia and who are studying in a Queensland Technical and Further
Education (TAFE) Institute, Australia, and proposes that advocacy can be oper-
ationalised by all members of the higher education community to support inclu-
sion and diversity.
In the final chapter, Chap. 19, I discuss the principles on which strat-
egy for inclusion and diversity are built. These principles include learner
centredness, cohesive commitment to inclusivity, epistemological equity,
and adopting a radical approach to inclusivity in universities; and together
can be deployed to include and celebrate a plurality of bodies and bodies
on knowledge in the academy. I finally make recommendations for con-
sidering and striving to achieve equity transnationally.
I hope you enjoy this collection, and that it inspires you to maintain
your focus on equity and equality in all your endeavours. Thank you for
your engagement and I am happy to hear your feedback and/or ideas for
working collaboratively in this space.
Gail Crimmins
Acknowledgement
xv
Contents
xvii
xviii Contents
Part VI Conclusion 377
Index401
Notes on Contributors
xxi
xxii Notes on Contributors
the Boys and Girls Club of West Alabama by tutoring children and assist-
ing with special events while earning her degree.
Tamara Bertrand Jones is an Associate Professor of Higher Education
and Associate Director of the Center for Postsecondary Success at Florida
State University, USA. She uses qualitative methods and critical and fem-
inist theories to examine the sociocultural contexts that influence educa-
tion and professional experiences of underrepresented populations,
particularly Black women, in academia. Her previous work as a higher
education administrator and program evaluator also contribute to her
research interests in culturally responsive assessment and evaluation. Her
work has broad implications for recruitment, retention, advancement,
and professional development of faculty and doctoral students.
Lauren Bethune-Dix earned a PhD in Special Education at the
University of North Carolina, Charlotte, USA, in 2015. Lauren oversees
the program of study and all academic support initiatives at Next Steps at
Vanderbilt. She works closely with a growing number of faculty and aca-
demic support services to expand academic course participation and
progress. Lauren’s responsibilities include supporting admissions/recruit-
ment, supporting faculty, collaborating with various on-campus aca-
demic supports on best teaching practices for faculty, and assisting with
the evaluation of academic supports.
Lakshmi S. Bose is a PhD candidate at the University of Cambridge,
England. Her research centres on intergenerational female activism in the
context of state securitisation and militarisation in South Africa and Egypt.
Chad Bouchard is Director of Career Development at Vanderbilt
University, USA. Chad Bouchard is responsible for leading the career
development initiatives for Next Steps at Vanderbilt, Vanderbilt
University, USA. Chad oversees the career development team, supporting
them to develop opportunities for students to increase self-determination
and employment skills through on and off campus opportunities. He is
currently involved in developing training and supports for Next Steps job
coaches, graduate assistants and community members. Chad is eager to
meet with any company or organization who wishes to increase inclusion
in their workplace. Chad graduated from the University of Victoria in
Notes on Contributors xxiii
“Immediately the fever left her.”――Matthew viii. 15: Mark i. 31: Luke iv. 39. It may seem
quite idle to conjecture the specific character of this fever; but it seems to me a very
justifiable guess, that it was a true intermittent, or fever and ague, arising from the marsh
influences, which must have been very strong in such a place as Capernaum,――situated
as it was, on the low margin of a large fresh water lake, and with all the morbific agencies of
such an unhealthy site, increased by the heat of that climate. The immediate termination of
the fever, under these circumstances, was an abundant evidence of the divine power of
Christ’s word, over the evil agencies, which mar the health and happiness of mankind.
During some time after this, Peter does not seem to have left his
home for any long period at once, until Christ’s long journeys to
Judea and Jerusalem, but no doubt accompanied Jesus on all his
excursions through Galilee, besides the first, of which the history has
been here given. It would be hard, and exceedingly unsatisfactory,
however, to attempt to draw out from the short, scattered incidents
which fill the interesting records of the gospels, any very distinct,
detailed narrative of these various journeys. The chronology and
order of most of these events, is still left much in the dark, and most
of the pains taken to bring out the truth to the light, have only raised
the greater dust to blind the eyes of the eager investigator. To
pretend to roll all these clouds away at once, and open to common
eyes a clear view of facts, which have so long confused the minds of
some of the wisest and best of almost every Christian age, and too
often, alas! in turn, been confused by them,――such an effort,
however well meant, could only win for its author the contempt of the
learned, and the perplexed dissatisfaction of common readers. But
one very simple, and comparatively easy task, is plainly before the
writer, and to that he willingly devotes himself for the present. This
task is, that of separating and disposing, in what may seem their
natural order, with suitable illustration and explanation, those few
facts contained in the gospels, relating distinctly to this apostle.
These facts, accordingly, here follow.
It is deserving of notice, that on this first mission, Jesus seems to have arranged the
twelve in pairs, in which order he probably sent them forth, as he certainly did the seventy
disciples, described in Luke x. 1. The object of this arrangement, was no doubt to secure
them that mutual support which was so desirable for men, so unaccustomed to the high
duties on which they were now dispatched.
Their destination, also, deserves attention. The direction of Jesus was, that they should
avoid the way of the heathen, and the cities of the Samaritans, who were but little better,
and should go to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. This expression was quoted,
probably, from those numerous passages in the prophets, where this term is applied to the
Israelites, as in Jeremiah l. 6, Isaiah liii. 6, Ezekiel xxxiv. 6, &c., and was used with peculiar
force, in reference to the condition of those to whom Jesus sent his apostles. It seems to
me, as if he, by this peculiar term, meant to limit them to the provinces of Galilee, where the
state and character of the Jews was such as eminently to justify this melancholy appellative.
The particulars of their condition will be elsewhere shown. They were expressly bounded on
one side, from passing into the heathen territory, and on the other from entering the cities of
the Samaritans, who dwelt between Galilee and Judea proper, so that a literal obedience of
these instructions, would have confined them entirely to Galilee, their native land. Macknight
also takes this view. The reasons of this limitation, are abundant and obvious. The
peculiarly abandoned moral condition of that outcast section of Palestine,――the perfect
familiarity which the apostles must have felt with the people of their own region, whose
peculiarities of language and habits they themselves shared so perfectly as to be unfitted
for a successful outset among the Jews of the south, without more experience out of
Galilee,――the shortness of the time, which seems to have been taken up in this
mission,――the circumstance that Jesus sent them to proclaim that “the kingdom of heaven
was at hand,” that is, that the Messiah was approaching, which he did in order to arouse the
attention of the people to himself, when he should go to them, (compare Luke x. 1,) thus
making them his forerunners; and the fact, that the places to which he actually did go with
them, on their return, were all in Galilee, (Matthew xi., xix. 1, Mark vi. 7, x. 1, Luke ix. 1‒51,)
all serve to show that this first mission of the apostles, was limited entirely to the Jewish
population of Galilee. His promise to them also in Matthew x. 2, 3, “you shall not finish the
cities of Israel, before the son of man come,” seems to me to mean simply, that there would
be no occasion for them to extend their labors to the Gentile cities of Galilee, or to the
Samaritans; because, before they could finish their specially allotted field of survey, he
himself would be ready to follow them, and confirm their labors. This was mentioned to
them in connection with the prediction of persecutions which they would meet, as an
encouragement. For various other explanations of this last passage, see Poole’s Synopsis,
Rosenmueller, Wetstein, Macknight, Le Sainte Bible avec notes, &c. in loc. But Kuinoel,
who quotes on his side Beza, Bolten, and others, supports the view, which an unassisted
consideration induced me to suggest.
“Anointed with oil.” Mark vi. 13. The same expression occurs in James v. 14, and needs
explanation from its connection with a peculiar rite of the Romish church,――extreme
unction, from which it differs, however, inasmuch as it was always a hopeful operation,
intended to aid the patient, and secure his recovery, while the Romish ceremony is always
performed in case of complete despair of life, only with a view to prepare the patient, by this
mummery, for certain death. The operation mentioned as so successfully performed by the
apostles, for the cure of diseases, was undoubtedly a simple remedial process, previously
in long-established use among the Hebrews, as clearly appears by the numerous
authorities quoted by Lightfoot, Wetstein, and Paulus, from Rabbinical Greek and Arabic
sources; yet Beza and others, quoted in Poole’s Synopsis, as well as Rosenmueller,
suggest some symbolical force in the ceremony, for which see those works in loc. See also
Kuinoel, and Bloomfield who gives numerous references. See also Marlorat’s Bibliotheca
expositionum, Stackhouse’s History of the Bible, Whitby, &c.
“A lonely place.”――The word desert, which is the adjective given in this passage, in the
common English version, (Matthew xiv. 13, 15, Mark vi. 31, 32, 35, Luke ix. 10, 12,) does
not convey to the reader, the true idea of the character of the place. The Greek word Ερημος
(eremos) does not in the passages just quoted, mean “desert,” in our modern sense of that
English word, which always conveys the idea of “desolation,” “wildness” and “barrenness,”
as well as “solitude.” But the Greek word by no means implied these darker characteristics.
The primary, uniform idea of the word is, “lonely,” “solitary,” and so little does it imply
“barrenness,” that it is applied to lands, rich, fertile and pleasant, a connection, of course,
perfectly inconsistent with our ideas of a desert place. Schleusner gives the idea very fairly
under Ερημια, (eremia,) a derivative of this word. “Notat locum aliquem vel tractum terrae,
non tam incultum et horridum, quam minus habitabilem,――solitudinem,――locum vacuum
quidem ab hominibus, pascuis tamen et agris abundantem, et arboribus obsitum.” “It means
a place or tract of land, not so much uncultivated and wild, as it does one thinly
inhabited,――a solitude, a place empty of men indeed, yet rich in pastures and fields, and
planted with trees.” But after giving this very clear and satisfactory account of the derivative,
he immediately after gives to the primitive itself, the primary meaning “desertus, desolatus,
vastus, devastatus,” and refers to passages where the word is applied to ruined cities; but in
every one of those passages, the true idea is that above given as the meaning, “stripped of
inhabitants,” and not “desolated” or “laid waste.” Hedericus gives this as the first meaning,
“desertus, solus, solitarius, inhabitatus.” Schneider also fully expresses it, in German, by
“einsam,” (lonely, solitary,) in which he is followed by Passow, his improver, and by
Donnegan, his English translator. Jones and Pickering, also give it thus. Bretschneider and
Wahl, in their New Testament Lexicons, have given a just and proper classification of the
meanings. The word “desert” came into our English translation, by the minute verbal
adherence of the translators to the Vulgate or Latin version, where the word is expressed by
“desertum” probably enough because desertus, in Latin, does not mean desert in English,
nor any thing like it, but simply “lonely,” “uninhabited;”――in short, it has the force of the
English participle, “deserted,” and not of the adjective “desert,” which has probably acquired
its modern meaning, and lost its old one, since our common translation was made; thus
making one instance, among ten thousand others, of the imperfection of this ancient
translation, which was, at best, but a servile English rendering of the Vulgate. Campbell, in
his four gospels, has repeated this passage, without correcting the error, though Hammond,
long before, in his just and beautiful paraphrase, (on Matthew xiv. 13,) had corrected it by
the expression, “a place not inhabited.” Charles Thomson, in his version, has overlooked
the error in Matthew xiv. 13, 15, but has corrected it in Mark vi. 31, &c., and in Luke ix. 10;
expressing it by “solitary.” The remark of the apostles to Jesus, “This place is lonely,” does
not require the idea of a barren or wild place; it was enough that it was far from any village,
and had not inhabitants enough to furnish food for five thousand men; as in 2 Corinthians xi.
26, it is used in opposition to “city,” in the sense of “the country.”
Who do men say that I am.――The common English translation, here makes a gross
grammatical blunder, putting the relative in the objective case,――“Whom do men say,” &c.
(Matthew xvi. 13‒15.) It is evident that on inverting the order, putting the relative last instead
of first, it will be in the nominative,――“Men say that I am who?” making, in short, a
nominative after the verb, though it here comes before it by the inversion which the relative
requires. Here again the blunder may be traced to a heedless copying of the Vulgate. In
Latin, as in Greek, the relative is given in the accusative, and very properly, because it is
followed by the infinitive. “Quem dicunt homines esse Filium hominis?” which literally is,
“Whom do men say the son of man to be?”――a very correct form of expression; but the
blunder of our translators was, in preserving the accusative, while they changed the verb,
from the infinitive to the finite form; for “whom” cannot be governed by “say.” Hammond has
passed over the blunder; but Campbell, Thomson, and Webster, have corrected it.
Son of Man.――This expression has acquired a peculiarly exalted sense in our minds,
in consequence of its repeated application to Jesus Christ, and its limitation to him, in the
New Testament. But in those days it had no meaning by which it could be considered
expressive of any peculiar characteristic of the Savior, being a mere general emphatic
expression for the common word “man,” used in solemn address or poetical expressions.
Both in the Old and New Testament it is many times applied to men in general, and to
particular individuals, in such a way as to show that it was only an elegant periphrasis for
the common term, without implying any peculiar importance in the person thus designated,
or referring to any peculiar circumstance as justifying this appellative in that case. Any
concordance will show how commonly the word occurred in this connection. The diligent
Butterworth enumerates eighty-nine times in which this word is applied to Ezekiel, in whose
book of prophecy it occurs oftener than in any other book in the Bible. It is also applied to
Daniel, in the address of the angel to him, as to Ezekiel; and in consideration of the vastly
more frequent occurrence of the expression in the writers after the captivity, and its
exclusive use by them as a formula of solemn address, it has been commonly considered
as having been brought into this usage among the Hebrews, from the dialects of Chaldea
and Syria, where it was much more common. In Syriac, more particularly, the simple
expression, “man,” is entirely banished from use by this solemn periphrasis, (bar-
nosh,) “son of man,” which every where takes the place of the original direct form. It should
be noticed also, that in every place in the Old Testament where this expression (“son of
man”) occurs, before Ezekiel, the former part of the sentence invariably contains the direct
form of expression, (“man,”) and this periphrasis is given in the latter part of every such
sentence, for the sake of a poetical repetition of the same idea in a slightly different form.
Take, for instance, Psalm viii. 4, “What is man, that thou art mindful of him? or the son of
man, that thou visitest him?” And exactly so in every other passage anterior to Ezekiel, as
Numbers xxiii. 19, Job xxv. 16, xxxv. 8, Isaiah li. 12, lvi. 2, and several other passages, to
which any good concordance will direct the reader.
The New Testament writers too, apply this expression in other ways than as a name of
Jesus Christ. It is given as a mere periphrasis, entirely synonymous with “man,” in a general
or abstract sense, without reference to any particular individual, in Mark iii. 28, (compare
Matthew xii. 13, where the simple expression “men” is given,) Hebrews ii. 6, (a mere
translation of Psalm viii. 4,) Ephesians iii. 5, Revelation i. 13, xiv. 14. In the peculiar
emphatic limitation to which this note refers, it is applied by Jesus Christ to himself about
eighty times in the gospels, but is never used by any other person in the New Testament, as
a name of the Savior, except by Stephen, in Acts, vii. 56. It never occurs in this sense in the
apostolic epistles. (Bretschneider.) For this use of the word, I should not think it necessary
to seek any mystical or important reason, as so many have done, nor can I see that in its
application to Jesus, it has any very direct reference to the circumstance of his having,
though divine, put on a human nature, but simply a nobly modest and strikingly emphatic
form of expression used by him, in speaking of his own exalted character and mighty plans,
and partly to avoid the too frequent repetition of the personal pronoun. It is at once evident
that this indirect form, in the third person, is both more dignified and modest in solemn
address, than the use of the first person singular of the pronoun. Exactly similar to this are
many forms of circumlocution with which we are familiar. The presiding officer of any great
deliberative assembly, for instance, in announcing his own decision on points of order, by a
similar periphrasis, says “The chair decides,” &c. In fashionable forms of intercourse, such
instances are still more frequent. In many books, where the writer has occasion to speak of
himself, he speaks in the third person, “the author,” &c.; as in an instance close at hand, in
this book it will be noticed, that where it is necessary for me to allude to myself in the text of
the work, which, of course, is more elevated in its tone than the notes, I speak, according to
standard forms of scriptorial propriety, in the third person, as “the author,” &c.; while here, in
these small discussions, which break in on the more dignified narrative, I find it at once
more convenient and proper, to use the more familiar and simple forms of ♦expression.
This periphrasis (“son of”) is not peculiar to oriental languages, as every Greek scholar
knows, who is familiar with Homer’s common expression υιες Αχαιων, (uies Akhaion,) “sons
of Grecians,” instead of “Grecians” simply, which by a striking coincidence, occurs in Joel
xiii. 6, in the same sense. Other instances might be needlessly ♦multiplied.
Thou art a Rock, &c.――This is the just translation of Peter’s name, and the force of the
declaration is best understood by this rendering. As it stands in the original, it is “Thou art
Πετρος, (Petros, ‘a rock,’) and on this Πετρα (Petra, ‘a rock’) I will build my church,”――a
play on the words so palpable, that great injustice is done to its force by a common tame,
unexplained translation. The variation of the words in the Greek, from the masculine to the
feminine termination, makes no difference in the expression. In the Greek Testament, the
feminine πετρα (petra) is the only form of the word used as the common noun for “rock,” but
the masculine πετρος (petros) is used in the most finished classic writers of the ancient
Greek, of the Ionic, Doric and Attic, as Homer, Herodotus, Pindar, Xenophon, and, in the
later order of writers, Diodorus Siculus.
H. Stephens gives the masculine form as the primitive, but Schneider derives it from the
feminine.
This avowal of Peter’s belief that Jesus was the Messiah, to which
the other apostles gave their assent, silent or loud, was so clear and
hearty, that Jesus plainly perceived their persuasion of his divine
authority to be so strong, that they might now bear a decisive and
open explanation of those things which he had hitherto rather darkly
and dimly hinted at, respecting his own death. He also at this time,
brought out the full truth the more clearly as to the miseries which
hung over him, and his expected death, with the view the more
effectually to overthrow those false notions which they had
preconceived of earthly happiness and triumph, to be expected in
the Messiah’s kingdom; and with the view, also, of preparing them
for the events which must shortly happen; lest, after they saw him
nailed to the cross, they should all at once lose their high hopes, and
utterly give him up. He knew too, that he had such influence with his
disciples, that if their minds were shocked, and their faith in him
shaken, at first, by such a painful disclosure, he could soon bring
them back to a proper confidence in him. Accordingly, from this time,
he began distinctly to set forth to them, how he must go to
Jerusalem, and suffer many things from the elders, and chief priests,
and scribes, and be killed, and be raised again the third day. There is
much room for reasonable doubt, as to the manner in which those
who heard this declaration of Christ, understood it at the time. As to
the former part of it, namely, that he would be ill-treated by the great
men of the Jewish nation, both by those ruling in the civil and
religious government, it was too plain for any one to put any but the
right meaning upon it. But the promise that he should, after this
horrible fate, rise again from the dead on the third day, did not, as it
is evident, by any means convey to them the meaning which all who
read it now, are able to find in it. Nothing can be more plain to a
careful reader of the gospels, than that his disciples and friends had
not the slightest expectation that he would ever appear to them after
his cruel death; and the mingled horror and dread with which the first
news of that event was received by them, shows them to have been
utterly unprepared for it. It required repeated positive demonstration,
on his part, to assure them that he was truly alive among them, in his
own form and character. The question then is――what meaning had
they all along given to the numerous declarations uttered by him to
them, apparently foretelling this, in the distinct terms, of which the
above passage is a specimen? Had they understood it as we do,
and yet so absolutely disbelieved it, that they put no faith in the event
itself, when it had so palpably occurred? And had they, for months
and years, followed over Palestine, through labors, and troubles, and
dangers, a man, who, as they supposed, was boldly endeavoring to
saddle their credulity with a burden too monstrous for even them to
bear? They must, from the nature of their connection with him, have
put the most unlimited confidence in him, and could not thus
devotedly have given themselves up to a man whom they believed
or suspected to be constantly uttering to them a falsehood so
extravagant and improbable. They must, then, have put some
meaning on it, different from that which our clearer light enables us
to see in it; and that meaning, no doubt, they honestly and firmly
believed, until the progress of events showed them the power of the
prophecy in its wonderful and literal fulfilment. They may have
misunderstood it in his life time, in this way: the universal character
of the language of the children of Shem, seems to be a remarkable
proneness to figurative expressions, and the more abstract the ideas
which the speaker wishes to convey, the more strikingly material are
the figures he uses, and the more poetical the language in which he
conveys them. Teachers of morals and religion, most especially,
have, among those nations of the east, been always distinguished
for their highly figurative expressions, and none abound more richly
in them than the writers of the Old and New Testament. So peculiarly
effective, for his great purposes, did Jesus Christ, in particular, find
this variety of eloquence, that it is distinctly said of him, that he
seldom or never spoke to the people without a parable, which he
was often obliged to expound more in detail, to his chosen followers,
when apart with them. This style of esoteric and exoteric instruction,
had early taught his disciples to look into his most ordinary
expressions for a hidden meaning; and what can be more likely than
that often, when left to their own conjectures, they, for a time, at
least, overleaped the simple literal truth, into a fog of figurative
interpretations, as too many of their very modern successors have
often done, to their own and others’ misfortune. We certainly know
that, in regard to those very expressions about raising the dead,
there was a very earnest inquiry among the three chief apostles,
some time after, as will be mentioned in place, showing that it never
seemed possible to them that their Lord, mighty as he had showed
himself, could ever mean to say to them, that, when his bitter foes
had crowned his life of toil and cares with a bloody and cruel exit,
he――even He, could dare to promise them, that he would break
through that iron seal, which, when once set upon the energies of
man, neither goodness, nor valor, nor knowledge, nor love, had ever
loosened, but which, since the first dead yielded his breath, not the
mightiest prophet, nor the most inspired, could ever break through
for himself. The figure of death and resurrection, has often been
made a striking image of many moral changes;――of some one of
which, the hearers of Jesus probably first interpreted it. In connection
with what he had previously said, nothing could seem more natural
to them, than that he, by this peculiarly strong metaphor, wished to
remind them that, even after his death, by the envious and cruel
hands of Jewish magistrates, over but a few days, his name, the
ever fresh influence of his bright and holy example――the undying
powers of his breathing and burning words, should still live with
them, and with them triumph after the momentary struggles of the
enemies of the truth.
the transfiguration.
Caesarea Philippi.――This city stood where all the common maps place it, in the
farthest northern part of Palestine, just at the foot of the mountains, and near the fountain
head of the Jordan. The name by which it is called in the gospels, is another instance, like
Julias Bethsaida, of a compliment paid by the servile kings, of the divisions of Palestine, to
their imperial masters, who had given, and who at any time could take away, crown and
kingdom from them. The most ancient name by which this place is known to have been
mentioned in the Hebrew scriptures, is Lasha, in Genesis x. 19, afterwards variously
modified into Leshem, (Joshua xix. 47,) and Laish, (Judges xviii. 7: xiv. 29,) a name
somewhat like the former in sound, though totally different in meaning, ( לשםleshem, “a
precious stone,” and לישlaish, “a lion,”) undoubtedly all three being from the same root, but
variously modified in the changing pronunciations of different ages and tribes. In the earliest
passage, (Genesis x. 19,) it is clearly described as on the farthest northern limit of the land
of Canaan, and afterwards, being conquered long after most of the cities of that region, by
the tribe of Dan, and receiving the name of this tribe, as an addition to its former one, it
became proverbially known under the name of Dan, as the farthest northern point of the
land of Israel, as Beersheba was the southern one. It did not, however, lose its early
Canaanitish name till long after, for, in Isaiah x. 30, it is spoken of under the name of Laish,
as the most distant part of Israel, to which the cry of the distressed could reach. It is also
mentioned under its later name of Dan, in Genesis xiv. 14, and Deuteronomy xxxiv. 1, where
it is given by the writer, or some copyist, in anticipation of the subsequent account of its
acquiring this name after the conquest. Josephus also mentions it, under this name, in
Antiquities book i. chapter 10, and book viii. chapter 8, section 4, in both which places he
speaks of it as standing at one of the sources of the Jordan, from which circumstance, no
doubt, the latter part of the river’s name is derived. After the overthrow of the Israelitish
power in that region, it fell into the hands of new possessors, and under the Greeks and
Romans, went by the name of Panias, (Josephus and Ptolemy,) or Paneas, (Josephus and
Pliny,) which name, according to Ptolemy, it had under the Phoenicians. This name,
supposed to have been taken from the Phoenician name of the mountain near, Josephus
gives to it, in all the later periods of his history, until he speaks of the occasion on which it
received a new change of name.
This city, along with the adjacent provinces, after the death of the first Herod, was given
to his son Philip, made tetrarch of Iturea and Trachonitis. This prince, out of gratitude to the
royal donor, at the same time when he rebuilt and repaired Bethsaida, as already
mentioned, “also embellished Paneas, at the fountains of the Jordan, and gave it the name
of Caesarea.” (Josephus Antiquities book xviii. chapter 2, section 1, also Jewish War, book
ii. chapter 9, section 1,) and to distinguish it from other Caesareas, hereafter to be
mentioned, it was called from the name of its royal builder, Caesarea Philippi, that is, “the
Caesarea of Philip.” By this name it was most commonly known in the time of Christ; but it
did not answer the end of perpetuating the name of its builder and his patron, for it shortly
afterwards recovered its former name, Paneas, which, probably, never went wholly out of
use. As late as the time of Pliny, (about A. D. 70,) Paneas was a part of the name of
Caesarea. Fons Paneas, qui cognomen dedit Caesareae, “the fountain Paneas, which gave
to Caesarea a surname.” (Pliny Natural History book v. chapter 15,) which shows, that at
that time, the name Paneas was one, by which even foreign geographers recognized this
city, in spite of the imperial dignity of its new title. Eusebius, (about A. D. 315,) speaks of
“Caesarea Philippi, which the Phoenicians call Paneas, at the foot of mount Panium.”
(Φιλιππου Καισαρεια ἡν Πανεαδα Θοινικες προσαγορευσι, &c. Church History book vii. chapter
17.) Jerome, (about A. D. 392,) never mentions the name Caesarea Philippi, as belonging
to this city, except in commenting on Matthew xvi. 13, where he finds it necessary to explain
this name, as an antiquated term, then out of use. Caesaream Philippi, quae nunc dicitur
Paneas, “Caesarea Philippi, which is now called Paneas;” and in all the other places where
he has occasion to mention the place, he gives it only the name of Paneas. Thus, in
commenting on Amos viii. 14, he says, “Dan, on the boundary of the Jewish territory, where
now is Paneas.” And on Jeremiah iv. 15,――“The tribe Dan, near mount Lebanon, and the
city which is now called Paneas,” &c.――See also commentary on Daniel xiii. 16.
After the death of Philip, this city, along with the rest of his dominions, was presented by
Cains Caligula to Agrippa, who added still farther to the improvements made by Philip, more
particularly ornamenting the Panium, or famous source of the Jordan, near the city, as
Josephus testifies. (Jewish War, book iii. chapter 9, section 7.) “The natural beauty of the
Panium, moreover, was still more highly adorned (προσεξησκηται) with royal magnificence,
being embellished by the wealth of Agrippa.” This king also attempted to perpetuate the
name of one of his imperial patrons, in connection with the city, calling it Neronias, in honor
of one who is well enough known without this aid. (Josephus Antiquities book xx. chapter 8,
section 3.) The perfectly transient character of this idle appellation, is abundantly shown
from the preceding copious quotations.
The city, now called Banias, (not Belinas, as Wahl erroneously says,) has been visited
and examined in modern times by several travelers, of whom, none has described it more
minutely than Burckhardt. His account of the mountains around the city, so finely illustrates
my description of the scene of the transfiguration, that I extract largely from it here. In order
to appreciate the description fully, it must be understood that Heish is now the general
Arabic name for the mountain chain, which was by ancient authors variously called
Lebanon, Libanus, Anti-Libanus, Hermon, and Panium; for all these names have been given
to the mountain-range, on whose slope Caesarea Philippi, or Paneas, stood.
“The district of Banias is classic ground; it is the ancient Caesarea Philippi; the lake
Houle, is the Lacus Samachonitis. Immediately after my arrival, I took a man of the village to
shew me the way to the ruined castle of Banias, which bears East by South from it. It stands
on the top of a mountain, which forms part of the mountain of Heish, at an hour and a
quarter from Banias; it is now in complete ruins, but was once a very strong fortress. Its
whole circumference is twenty-five minutes. It is surrounded by a wall ten feet thick, flanked
with numerous round towers, built with equal blocks of stone, each about two feet square.
The keep, or citadel, seems to have been on the highest summit, on the eastern side,
where the walls are stronger than on the lower, or western side. The view from thence over
the Houle and a part of its lake, the Djebel Safad, and the barren Heish, is magnificent. On