The Anglican Church in South Africa – well, more specifically, the diocese of Cape Town, has taken a resolution. It could not be described as “groundbreaking” or “earth shattering”. It is really little more than a timid little whimper. According to the Cape Argus (24/08/2009) the resolution “ask(s) the Archbishop to request the synod of Bishops to provide pastoral guidelines for those of our members who are in covenanted relationships (sic – how they got into these, needs some explanation, seeing that the Church itself won’t allow this), taking due regard of the mind of the Anglican Communion”(Sic!)
Clarifying the resolution, the Dean, Rowan Smith – himself Gay, said that “the mixed signal which the church was sending out needed to be clarified”. (I’ll say!). “We allow gays and lesbians in same sex relationships to become reverends and bishops but refuse to acknowledge their relationships as valid. This causes confusion and we as the clergy have no idea how to advise people”.
This seems to have been followed by other extraneous issues, like that while South Africa has a constitution which accepts civil unions between same sex partners, other countries i9n the region do not. (The resolution, you will notice, immediately, is not that these countries SHOULD have things like the recognition of same-sex partnerships, but merely noting that they don’t – causing a bit of awkwardness and unpleasantness.
Well, that really blew my hair back. Don’t know about you!
Showing posts with label Gay ordination. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Gay ordination. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Sunday, July 26, 2009
The Queer God
The Queer God
By Marcella Althaus-Reid
Routledge, London and New York, 2003
186pp
Routledge, London and New York, 2003
186pp
I have been having some discussions recently with one or two people in the South African ecclesiastical scene, who are wanting to take forward the issue of equality for Gay and Lesbian priests in this corner of the world. I am constantly struck, however, by the way in which Gay and Lesbian people, inside the church, are often considered beggars at the table. They are treated fairly nicely. There is some measure of respect (certainly in the South African context - I am not talking of elsewhere in Africa). But there is no thought that actually we could ADD something to the rather sterile world of hetero-normative theology. That is taken as the given. So my thoughts turned again to a book I read some years ago, which changed absolutely the way I thought of theology. That doesn't happen often.
On the cover of this book, is a picture of Jesus. Nothing unfamiliar, particularly if you are Roman or Anglo-catholic. But under the title, the picture takes on a bit of a different meaning. Because, Jesus is, frankly, as camp as a row of pink tents! Clearly effeminate, limp-wristed, positively trans-sexual and probably transvestite as well.
The cover of the book is powerfully descriptive of what is the major concern of the book – a relentless exploration of the somewhat contradictory hegemony which patriarchal, heterosexual theology has on the way in which the Bible (and God) is perceived and read.
Some years ago I wrote an article on the tension between “gay” and “straight” perceptions of God. I gave an abridged version of it to my priest to read. His comment at the end of it was that there were one or two things with which he radically disagreed. One was the matter of multiple sexual partnerships, which I had raised as a feature of gay sexuality. He said that was an absolute non-negotiable for a Christian.
I thought of this incident when I watched the shenanigans following the so-called Windsor Report, where Queer priests and bishops in the Anglican Communion were firmly put in their places in 2004. I wondered what possible credibility, for instance, a political settlement would have had in South Africa, if a solution had been drafted by only one side of the conflict – and then imposed summarily and vigorously on the other. None! is the answer. And I would venture to suggest that the same is true on the question of homosexuality.
Marcella Althaus-Reid describes the Queer person as “the stranger at the gate”, the “exile”. The Queer Theologian is confined to the attic or the dungeon.(p.88). We are expected to behave in a “neutral” way, which has the same effect as putting our heads through one of those funfare cut-out figures, being forced to adopt a variety of cross-dressing identities, all of the time (p.90)
We are only allowed to speak, if it is in the language and grammar of the hegemonic power. We are not allowed to explore our own language, our own culture, our own norms, our own reality. That is the dungeon to which we are confined, within the church and the dominant theology.
But she explores a range of oddities within that dominant theology, utilizing symbols and images from queer expression and experience, together with the extreme sexual subversiveness of the Marquis De Sade. It is sometimes bewildering and certainly makes for extremely difficult reading. But it is also, I found, exhilarating. This is not, I want to warn, a book for the faint-hearted!
Her view is that Queer Theology is not, as are many liberation theologies, a theology from the margins. Rather, it is a theology from the other side completely! God is seen not in the familiar, but in the completely strange. The theological project is one then, of “queering” divine relationships and ensuring that the heterosexual obsession with binary relationships is challenged and reformulated. The Trinity, after all, is anything but binary, and the relationship between genders within it, deeply suspect from a heterosexual point of view. The queer theological project consequently sets God free from the dyadic/procreative formulations of origins. The queer project points to a world where reproduction is neither a necessity, nor a requirement of the evolutionary trajectory. In other words, human evolution needs to be more than the endless succession of what happens between sperm and ovum. She calls this “sodomising hermaneutics”, which involves processes of subversion, submission and deconstructionism which cannot be found in heterosexual presentations of God. This is the true “emptying” or kenotic process of the divine.
I have always found the story in Genesis chapter 19, of Lot and the two “angels” who came to visit Sodom, a very peculiar one. Besides anything else, why on earth does Lot offer his daughters to the “men of Sodom”? I mean, where is the morality in that, for heaven’s sake? And why is this seen, by hetero-normative readings of the text, to be the preferable, or even moral option? But one thing which I had not noticed before, which Althaus-Reid drives home so forcefully, is the essential over-riding violence pervading the text. A violence, from which not even God is exempt. The men from Sodom have violent intent against the visitors. The father has violent intent against his own daughters. God has a violent intent against everyone and everything, threatening to destroy both people and the environment alike. However, underlying this violence in the text, there is another discussion. In Sodom, the issue (and the warfare) is about sameness and difference. In Sodom, otherness was the norm. That was unacceptable to the monochrome God of same-ness. Difference – otherness, needs to be systematically uprooted and destroyed. It is a warfare between two projects: the dominant and the subversive. “The Sodomites must be resurrected one day …(and) by them, sexual justice will become a key hermeneutical clue for any reading on the sacred and people’s lives”. (p.93)
This is, as I have said, an extremely difficult book, not only because of the ingenuity of the approach, but also because of the sometimes opaque language which is used. But it is quite brilliant in its approach and its uncompromising , scandalous utilization of symbol to confront symbol. I give you the following: The bisexual nature of the theologian; Finding God in dark alleys; The Voyeur God; Leading God by a dog –collar; The closeted Trinity; God the Sodomite; Premature ejaculations – God in transit; Sade and holiness – and you will get a feeling for the approach. It is bold, original, perhaps disturbing but also extremely enlightening. I doubt many will read it. What I do not doubt however, is that it will set a direction for Queer Theology in a way which has not been done so far.
The cover of the book is powerfully descriptive of what is the major concern of the book – a relentless exploration of the somewhat contradictory hegemony which patriarchal, heterosexual theology has on the way in which the Bible (and God) is perceived and read.
Some years ago I wrote an article on the tension between “gay” and “straight” perceptions of God. I gave an abridged version of it to my priest to read. His comment at the end of it was that there were one or two things with which he radically disagreed. One was the matter of multiple sexual partnerships, which I had raised as a feature of gay sexuality. He said that was an absolute non-negotiable for a Christian.
I thought of this incident when I watched the shenanigans following the so-called Windsor Report, where Queer priests and bishops in the Anglican Communion were firmly put in their places in 2004. I wondered what possible credibility, for instance, a political settlement would have had in South Africa, if a solution had been drafted by only one side of the conflict – and then imposed summarily and vigorously on the other. None! is the answer. And I would venture to suggest that the same is true on the question of homosexuality.
Marcella Althaus-Reid describes the Queer person as “the stranger at the gate”, the “exile”. The Queer Theologian is confined to the attic or the dungeon.(p.88). We are expected to behave in a “neutral” way, which has the same effect as putting our heads through one of those funfare cut-out figures, being forced to adopt a variety of cross-dressing identities, all of the time (p.90)
We are only allowed to speak, if it is in the language and grammar of the hegemonic power. We are not allowed to explore our own language, our own culture, our own norms, our own reality. That is the dungeon to which we are confined, within the church and the dominant theology.
But she explores a range of oddities within that dominant theology, utilizing symbols and images from queer expression and experience, together with the extreme sexual subversiveness of the Marquis De Sade. It is sometimes bewildering and certainly makes for extremely difficult reading. But it is also, I found, exhilarating. This is not, I want to warn, a book for the faint-hearted!
Her view is that Queer Theology is not, as are many liberation theologies, a theology from the margins. Rather, it is a theology from the other side completely! God is seen not in the familiar, but in the completely strange. The theological project is one then, of “queering” divine relationships and ensuring that the heterosexual obsession with binary relationships is challenged and reformulated. The Trinity, after all, is anything but binary, and the relationship between genders within it, deeply suspect from a heterosexual point of view. The queer theological project consequently sets God free from the dyadic/procreative formulations of origins. The queer project points to a world where reproduction is neither a necessity, nor a requirement of the evolutionary trajectory. In other words, human evolution needs to be more than the endless succession of what happens between sperm and ovum. She calls this “sodomising hermaneutics”, which involves processes of subversion, submission and deconstructionism which cannot be found in heterosexual presentations of God. This is the true “emptying” or kenotic process of the divine.
I have always found the story in Genesis chapter 19, of Lot and the two “angels” who came to visit Sodom, a very peculiar one. Besides anything else, why on earth does Lot offer his daughters to the “men of Sodom”? I mean, where is the morality in that, for heaven’s sake? And why is this seen, by hetero-normative readings of the text, to be the preferable, or even moral option? But one thing which I had not noticed before, which Althaus-Reid drives home so forcefully, is the essential over-riding violence pervading the text. A violence, from which not even God is exempt. The men from Sodom have violent intent against the visitors. The father has violent intent against his own daughters. God has a violent intent against everyone and everything, threatening to destroy both people and the environment alike. However, underlying this violence in the text, there is another discussion. In Sodom, the issue (and the warfare) is about sameness and difference. In Sodom, otherness was the norm. That was unacceptable to the monochrome God of same-ness. Difference – otherness, needs to be systematically uprooted and destroyed. It is a warfare between two projects: the dominant and the subversive. “The Sodomites must be resurrected one day …(and) by them, sexual justice will become a key hermeneutical clue for any reading on the sacred and people’s lives”. (p.93)
This is, as I have said, an extremely difficult book, not only because of the ingenuity of the approach, but also because of the sometimes opaque language which is used. But it is quite brilliant in its approach and its uncompromising , scandalous utilization of symbol to confront symbol. I give you the following: The bisexual nature of the theologian; Finding God in dark alleys; The Voyeur God; Leading God by a dog –collar; The closeted Trinity; God the Sodomite; Premature ejaculations – God in transit; Sade and holiness – and you will get a feeling for the approach. It is bold, original, perhaps disturbing but also extremely enlightening. I doubt many will read it. What I do not doubt however, is that it will set a direction for Queer Theology in a way which has not been done so far.
Because, in the end, in the fullness of time, we Queers will make ourselves heard. And not in a way which accepts that the dominant heterosexual project is the right one and that we somehow fit in with that. Queer Theologians are saying, you have got it thumpingly wrong! If we are excluded, if we are kept at the gate, if our voices are silent and if our culture and practice is condemned and excluded, you are wrong! Do not think for a moment that we will give up the struggle, or that we will be marginalized or silenced. Because the God is not a heterosexual God. In fact, that God is a blasphemy, an abhorrence and a sham
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
The tedious run-around in the "gay priests" debate
I see today, reported on the Huffington Post that ... 'Bishops at the Episcopal General Convention in Anaheim, Calif., voted 99-45 with two abstentions for a statement declaring "God has called and may call" to ministry gays in committed lifelong relationships.'
With tears in my eyes, how long does it take the church to reach such perfectly obvious conclusions! Like that the sun doesn't revolve around the Earth; like that the world wasn't made in seven days; like that condoms are the best protection poor countries have against HIV/AIDS; like that we are killing the planet?
Actually, looking at that list, one may just as well give it all up as hopeless. The church, throughout its history, has never really bothered about scientific evidence of anything at all. Public opinion has rarely played much part in its decision-making, and common sense - well, that has never played any role in its deliberations, at any stage of its history.
Drafters of the recent statement have insisted that the resolution only acknowledges that the Episcopal Church ordains partnered gays and lesbians and is not a repeal of what was widely considered a moratorium on consecrating gay bishops.
"The constitution and canons of our church as currently written do not preclude gay and lesbian persons from participating," in any part of the church, said the Rev. Gay (sic!) Clark Jennings, on the committee that drafted the statement. "These people (sic - by which I assume s/he means those which have felt some kind of call to be ordained) have responded to God's call."
And so we trek slowly on. In the Anglican Church, my sister was excluded from receiving communion, because she was divorced. It would have preferred her to remain getting beaten up, abused and humiliated by a violent drunk. Millions of people were not eligible to be ordained priests, because somehow the possession of a penis was thought essential to the consecration of bread and wine. And now the gay thing.
To enter into the debate with any level of dignity (not to mention sanity), one has to simply ignore the fact that the Anglican Church has not only ordained priests, but consecrated gay bishops throughout its history. In South Africa - several great names spring to mind, de Blank, Clayton, Stradling, Selby-Taylor - and several of the the others are still alive (but not not quite so great!). And not to mention beloved heroes of the struggle, people like Trevor Huddleston CR. But we need to just live with the lie, to have the "debate". It is almost considered indelicate to mention it, and to keep on mentioning it. It is very similar to the way whites in this country don't like any mention of apartheid - it is just something unpleasant, which we would all rather forget.
I think we can't give into this kind of control of the tenets of the debate by the heterosexual majority in the church. And furthermore, we should not allow the debate to simply be about whether gay and lesbian people are allowed to be ordained, or allowed to be elected bishops, or allowed to function in Holy Orders or not. The debate needs to be much further reaching.
I want to say four things in relation to this so-called debate:
1. The time has come for the church to show a bit of honesty in relation to gay and lesbian people. We have always been in the church and we always will be. Many churches could not keep going without our support. Whether we are hidden, or whether we are open, we are there.
2. I have news! The earth isn’t flat anymore! It doesn’t matter how strongly people might have believed that it was, or what the Bible might have said about it. It is round. And the church has needed to remake its reality around that. Similarly, it is not ethical to keep slaves anymore. It doesn’t matter that the Bible accepts slavery. It is wrong. As a developing moral species, we have come to see that. And the same is true for our sexuality.
3. If there really is a dialogue, (or a conversation) taking place in the church about gay and lesbian people, it cannot be a dialogue that assumes that gay and lesbian people have nothing to bring to the theological table. The church’s theological norm at the moment is not an inclusive one. It is a hetero-normative one. I, and others like me, cannot and will not be treated as though we are beggars at the table.
The picture above is a fairly controversial piece by Becky Jayne Harrelson, called The “Crucifixion of Christ”. What I like about it is that it exploits the real ambiguity and irony of the Biblical record. As we all know, the Gospels, and John in particular makes the point that what was written on the cross was that Jesus was “King of the Jews”. In John’s Gospel, the chief priests petition Pilate to change this, because, of course they are offended by it and its substance was their major subversive claim against Jesus. Rather say, they argued, he claimed to be king of the Jews. So, is he or isn’t he? Harrelson’s painting asks the same question. On the one hand it is the biggest irony. On the other hand, it is true. You could put any word you like there – like“Kaffir”, or “Bitch”, or “Hot’not”, or “Gham”, or “Mlungu”
d. Lastly, I would want to ask that we all stop accepting the insubstantial gruel of a heterosexual god. It is unpalatable. It is offensive and in the end, it is an idol. But more importantly, it denies the complex glory of a God who is purported to have made us all in the divine image.
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