The thesis research is going! I'll get my first book review up soon. For now I wanted to say some words about where I'm starting from and where I hope to go with all of this. (Although, of course, that direction will no doubt evolve over the next 6 months!)
Last year in my Christology seminar, we were centered as a class around the image of the cross and the lynching tree, which is the subject of James Cone's new book that he's off writing now. (instead of being my thesis advisor! grrr!) We dealt with a whole lot of different perspectives, historical and more modern, on christology as a discipline and how they might be applicable when speaking about present-day suffering.
I focused heavily on feminist work, because there's a definite trend in feminist theology to write off the cross entirely, because talking about suffering is somehow antithetical to alleviating suffering. Right. (Well, yes, the *way* we've been talking about Jesus' suffering has been incredibly harmful to women over the years. I don't mean to write that off.) As I said in my presentation, the cross is necessary "simply because any theology that wants to have meaning
for people who suffer must address the issue of suffering." Crucifixion is painful to deal with, but we must deal with it faithfully so that we can speak about the abuse and suffering of real people today.
In contrast to many white feminist thinkers, I cannot give up the cross. As mentioned above, it is an essential vehicle for talking about physical suffering, but additionally the cross is significant for me because it means that the incarnation of God was true and remains true. For God to be truly embodied means not just that Jesus walked and ate and drank, but that Jesus’ body was a liability in the same way that today it is a liability to be embodied. Bodies can be assaulted, bodies can be broken, bodies can be raped. Jesus is not truly embodied unless the divine body is a body that can be violated.
What does it mean, today, to talk about the Body of Christ? It is a body that, physically, resembles the broken and abused people at the margins of society, those raped and lynched and humiliated. Yet we celebrate this same body at the Table every Sunday. What does that mean for these real bodies today? What about queer bodies? If we, the church, are "the body of christ," does that mean that we queer bodies and broken bodies are the essence of church?
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While we're pondering, I also put up my final paper for the seminar:
"... Bringing Radical Transcendence to Earth" I focused on the experience of Mamie Till-Mobley (the mother of Emmett Till) in exploring those and other questions. It touches on some things I'd like to explore more this year. Hope you enjoy it.
