A Madman’s Theodicy

…[the ancient inventors of names] would never have connected prophecy (mantike), which foretells the future and is the noblest of arts, with madness (manike), or called them both by the same name, if they had deemed madness to be a disgrace or dishonour; they must have thought that there was an inspired madness which was a noble thing; for the two words, mantike and manike, are really the same, and the letter t is only a modern and tasteless insertion. – Plato, Phaedrus 244c (circa 370 BC)

 

The blind will not gain their sight by opening their eyes

Not for the sins of the fathers

nor of previous generations

Why do the wicked prosper while the righteous cries out?

Like lambs sent to the slaughter

hopeful, faithful

through love

for salvation

What is this upside-down glory

of a murdered God?

How do you live

knowing

one day

on the third day

(just like that)

 

life still lives

 

and even death dies?

 


About the author: Lucas Coque is a Brazilian theology student in Montreal, QC. He is an agnostic Christian existentialist who wishes to make progressive theology accessible.

Photo by Louis Maniquet on Unsplash

 

Who has the right to theologize?

All theology is sexual, said Marcella Althaus-Reid. Theologian-men are afraid of sexuality, afraid of the body. In the words of Rubem Alves: the body cries out! Then all run in fear, dreading what the body can do to theology.

The body tears the veil between us and the Divine. In the body we are the Divine, we penetrate and we are penetrated by God’s sensuality, we become one flesh, we grab God’s butt-cheeks and we enjoy the mystical pleasure of christhood.

Can the body speak? The subaltern body? The body that is sexuality? The body that comes with pleasure? Does that body have the right to do theology? Or is theology this dry thing, without the lubrication of affect, love, and pleasure?

We go round and round and end up in the same errors! A Christianity called progressive putting bodies and desires in closets. I am really sorry, Marcella, if your work seems to have been in vain. Rubem Alves, I also apologize to you, for they have eyes but do not see, they have ears but do not hear!

The body cries for liberty! Yet they insist that bodies and the plurality of sexuality do not have the right to “influence theology”. The body dies for liberty! Yet they insist in reducing the body to a biological experience, denying the multiplicity of experiences and possibilities of the body, discourses that testify the deaths of trans  -men and -women, — “god made a man and a woman”, that theology is “very clear when stating there are only two genders” — discourses that deny a whole life to anyone who is gay, lesbian, bisexual, queer, non-binary, trans, or intersex. The body lives liberty! The body will no longer be shackled by non-libertarian theological categories. Our body transgresses, rebels and theologizes without panties, without underwear or bras. Our bodies do theology naked before the queer Divine, honoring corporeality and sexuality!

The body is sexual, it is sensual, it desires! Bodies that are oppressed by a capitalist system also desire! To exclude sexuality, my dear, is far from having the title of progressive. “Revolutionizing” while denying the body is yet another way to perpetuate a theology of violence. To say who can and who cannot do theology is a colonizing, excluding, conservative attitude. All bodies can and should mess with this dry, un-lubricated theology, which kills, excludes, and abuses marginalized bodies.

Deus não rejeita a obra de suas mãos

God does not reject their handwork

É inutil o batismo para o corpo

It is useless to baptize the body

O esforço da doutrina para ungir-nos,

Doctrine’s effort to anoint us,

Não coma, não beba, mantenha os quadris imóveis,

Do not eat, do not drink, do not move your hips,

Porque estes não são pecados do corpo.

Because these are not sins for the body.

A alma, sim, a ela batizai, crismai.

The soul, indeed, baptize her, chrism her.

Escrevei para ela a imitação de Cristo.

Write her the imitation of Christ.

O corpo não tem desvãos,

The body has no lack,

Só inocência e beleza,

Only innocence and beauty,

Tanta que Deus imita

Such that God will imitate it

E quer casar com sua igreja

wanting to marry his church

E declara que os peitos da sua amada

declaring the breasts of his lover

São como filhotes gêmeos de gazela.

the twin pups of a gazelle.

É inútil o batismo para o corpo.

It is useless to baptize the body.

O que tem suas leis as cumprirá.

The one with laws will fulfill them.

Os olhos verão a Deus

The eyes will see God.

(Adélia Prado)


The Author: Angelica Tostes is a Latin-American Feminist theologian with a master’s degree in Religious Studies (UMESP). She is part of the Ecumenical Youth Network (REJU) and collaborates with the Collective for Libertarian Spirituality, in Brazil. She writes on her blog Angeliquisses (Theology, Art and Poetry), dedicating herself to the themes of feminist theology, body, and interfaith dialogue. //Original Post in Portuguese

 

Confiteor

Confiteor vobis…

pushing and screaming, the lifeless city races by and pulls me along. i didn’t ask, but said nothing; a willing victim, a passive accomplice.

quia peccavi nimis ommisione…

“Something wrong?  Oh, don’t be surprised, it’s just the pandemic: No one is alive because we’ve forgotten how to die.  I see you’re surprised?  It’s simple really; let me explain: evolution, being what it is…well, we don’t need death anymore.  We’ve moved on.  Immortalization is where it’s at (so I’ve been told).”

ideo precor vos, fratres…

what is wrong with me?  just shake it off.

the day is glaring, here is the bus. arrives gleaming, doors glide to receive us; entered:

a split second:

beyond the open doors, i look and see:

the sky, shining bright, burning blue; it rushes through my eyes, pierces my mind,

and stabs my heart.  the pain; i would fall but there is no room in this

crowding mass of bodies.

the dull doors slam shut, and so do i.

orare pro me ad…?

 


The Author: “A few years ago, Catherine was pretty sure she knew what she believed. Now she’s pretty sure she doesn’t know what she believes, but she’s decided that living and experiencing are good ways to spend time as she tries to figure out what life is about. Also, she’s a PhD student in Biomedical Engineering; as such, she has no official qualifications to speak on anything regarding theology or religion.”

 

Lament for our Mother

I was too young when the divorce happened.

Mother and Father loved each other,

People say I got my mom’s body and my dad’s spirit.

 

Once upon a time we celebrated them.

Our old houses and temples, buried in Canaanite deserts, still tell the history:

Walls full of pictures and inscriptions cherishing our Parents’ love: The Fertility Goddess and the Lord of the Mountain. Earth and Heaven, Asherah and El.

Ashtoreth and Yaweh.

I don’t know why they fought, nor why he threw all her stuff out of his house.

I mean, isn’t everything their house?

All I know is my Brothers and Sisters insist that our Father is the one who provides everything.

They say we should just forget Mother.

That our Parent is One, only One.

 

To my brothers, Mother is either a silent servant

Who does Father’s will,

Or a whoring serpent

who bites his Son’s heel.

 

Oh Mother, Mother, Mother,

We feed from your breast while we taint your seas.

Oh Mother, Mother, Mother,

We haven’t seen Father in two thousand years. But my brothers and sisters worship him. Yes, only him. To him all power and honor and glory, to him who will redeem us from you, he who will come and burn you, destroy you, to create a new you, in which there won’t be you, but only Him.

You who gestate us, you who are ever one with us, that we may be one with him.

Oh Father, our jealous Father,

Thou who art in Heaven,

Have mercy.

 

Yet, maybe…

 

It just might be,

My brothers and sisters are wrong.

If Father and Mother divorced, how can they both be

Dancing, Together

In me?

 


Photo by JOHN TOWNER on Unsplash

Today it rained

Yesterday, together with some of my dearest friends, we laughed and drank to celebrate the day I was born. We told our stories, and we talked about the things we care for. We became closer, as we knew each other better, as we exposed and uncovered pieces of ourselves, as our lives became part of each other’s. We talked about how we had come to know ourselves better in the past years, by living, and paying close attention to Life, and to what it tells us. All that we had unlearned, all that we had discovered.

This morning I woke up, and spent my day answering a few questions to my professor, so he could grade whether I understood the things he spent the semester trying to teach. Later in the afternoon, I went to class where groups of students discussed their answers, and we all finally gave our papers with notes to the professor. We had discussed the way in which one can study religion. How a religious experience can be understood, and, mostly, how it can’t. Really, we discussed how we cannot understand most things, but that in University we need to pretend we do. In Church we need to pretend we do. The Government needs to pretend it does. We all pretend we do, even though we don’t.

We have to pretend, because it’s really scary to not know. Continue reading Today it rained

The Study of God: on method

Recently a friend of mine who has very little religious education gained interest in theology, and surprised me with maybe the best question I have been asked in a while: what is the theological method?

If you have ever studied something seriously, academically, critically, you understand his question. Ιt is a question of epistemology: “how do I know?”. In traditional sciences, there is a scientific method: controlled, observable and reproducible experiments lead to conclusions and allow predictions. The experiment is then repeated and reviewed by other scientists who confirm or contest the conclusions, and as that happens the whole community arrives at very probable theories about a subject. History also has its method, since history cannot be repeated or reproduced, neither controlled, so it stands outside the realm of science. Math and logic, along with philosophy, all have their systems of proof testing. So when we speak of the Divine, what is our method to differ between truth and non-truth? How do we know? Continue reading The Study of God: on method

A Poem About My Cat

I haven’t written here in a long time. These days, more and more I realize that religious truths are not meant to be communicated through cold logical exercise and exposition, but through vivid imagery, music, and art. I have been writing a lot of poetry, and here I’d like to share something that very well fits this blog.

 

I got him half a lifetime ago. His lifetime.
He’s like my little brother from another species
Mon minou mignon, gato gatoso, my furball
Little fluffy killing machine
My cat Continue reading A Poem About My Cat