Religion and Myth

I’ve been thinking about what it means to take religion literally as opposed to metaphorically. I’ll illustrate:

CAMPBELL: The reference of the metaphor in religious traditions is to something transcendent that is not literally any thing. If you think that the metaphor is itself the reference, it would be like going to a restaurant, asking for the menu, seeing beefsteak written there, and starting to eat the menu.

For example, Jesus ascended to heaven. The denotation would seem to be that somebody ascended to the sky. That’s literally what is being said. But if that were really the meaning of the message, then we have to throw it away, because there would have been no such place for Jesus literally to go. We know that Jesus could not have ascended to heaven because there is no physical heaven anywhere in the universe. Even ascending at the speed of light, Jesus would still be in the galaxy, Astronomy and physics have simply eliminated that as a literal, physical possibility, But if you read “Jesus ascended to heaven” in terms of its metaphoric connotation, you see that he has gone inward – not into outer space but into inward space, to the place from which all being comes, into the consciousness that is the source of all things, the kingdom of heaven within. The images are outward, but their reflection is inward. The point is that we should ascend with him by going inward. It is a metaphor of returning to the source, alpha and omega, of leaving the fixation on the body behind and going to the body’s dynamic source.

MOYERS: Aren’t you undermining one of the great traditional doctrines of the classic Christian faith – that the burial and the resurrection of Jesus prefigures our own?

CAMPBELL: That would be a mistake in the reading of the symbol. That is reading the words in terms of prose instead of in terms of poetry, reading the metaphor in terms of the denotation instead of the connotation.

MOYERS: And poetry gets to the unseen reality.

CAMPBELL: That which is beyond even the concept of reality, that which transcends all thought. The myth puts you there all the time, gives you a line to connect with that mystery which you are.

Shakespeare said that art is a mirror held up to nature. And that’s what it is. The nature is your nature, and all of these wonderful poetic images of mythology are referring to something in you. When your mind is simply trapped by the image out there so that you never make the reference to yourself, you have misread the image.

The inner world is the world of your requirements and your energies and your structure and your possibilities that meets the outer world. And the outer world is the field of your incarnation. That’s where you are. You’ve got to keep both going. As Novalis said, “The seat of the soul is there where the inner and outer worlds meet.”

——————————————————–

Months ago reading this, I would have been frightened and even a little offended to take Christianity on a “metaphorical” level. I had always known, like a good English student, that the Creation “myth” in Genesis was allegorical due to x, y, z devices, and most of the evangelical Christian teachings I’ve encountered also treated the book more-or-less the same way, pointing of course to the objective truth of God and God’s power. But one does not mess with the Ten Commandments, Hell, or the Resurrection of Jesus Christ and take that “metaphorically.” But increasingly I have come to wonder.

I don’t doubt the existence of God all. I think the Christian salvation story is profound: on a  spiritual level it just oozes heartwrenching goodness and potentiality, as I don’t think humans can comprehend anything vaster and more “good” than sacrificial love. On a literal level, it’s full of paradoxes and narrative ambiguities and so forth that just begs rich analysis. I’ve read Jungian perspectives on the Christian mythos, also very good. So it’s  not as though Jesus’ resurrection is irrelevant or “untrue” to me; I won’t argue with the scientific and historical evidence that either approves of or negates his works. It’s just that, whether Jesus exists or not, he makes much more sense to me on an allegorical level than a literal, a scientific, or historical conception.

I grew up in a Christian church. It had its merits; I learned how to respect others and develop empathy on a religious basis (religion is pretty good, I think, for justifying morality and why we “shouldn’t” kill one another), I learned about community ties, and being involved in fellowship and worship helped me gain inner introspection. When you pray, you pray to something outside of yourself (God) but also reach into your inner essence, a self-examination, confession, and catharis. You acknowledge the shit in your life, and you acknowledge the need to deal with it. At the same time, I won’t lie when  I say that the Christian church also caused one of the greatest moments of pain, betrayal, and ostracization in my life. I was betrayed, very recently, by so-called Christians – the ones I depended on for community and self-validation. The bible was wielded against me to tell me that I was dirt and unworthy. At the same time, I never felt the need to hate on Christianity for the rest of my life. God can exist, or he can “not” exist.  He can be Yaweh, or he can be [insert some other deity]. But I wonder if that will change the fact that, in the end of the day, people are people and they can’t help it if they’re full of shit. Hell, I’m full of shit myself. So religion will always be unfortunately corrupted by its followers. From a personal experience, the people who wounded me most were the people who took Christianity on a somewhat narrow and literal level.

These were the people who said, Maybelle, this is exactly how you should live and what you should do. Deny yourself, deny the fact that you have real psychological problems, and get high off of this magic anecdote called “God” who will swoop in and save all your problems. But when I reflect on this trend in Christian culture, it strikes me as being a highly disembodied form of living. It’s like performing a role without acknowledging the inner happenings of me, acknowledging the fact that there is no clean-cut, religious formula to self-healing. We can’t just be better people by doing “better things,” although doing “better things” is highly beneficial towards nuturing inner morality. I believe, to a certain extent, God helps those who helps themselves. This means actually being physically active. Enjoying sex. Having goals. Nurturing relationships with other people, religious or non-religious. Being physiologically healthy, tackling your own problems head-on, instead of performing religious “roles” to compensate for real psychological deficiencies. Finding the seat where outer and inner worlds meet.

What I’m trying to say is, I’m less inclined to believe in the “literalness” of religion now – the rules and regulations, the monotheism. Or I am holding it to a more skeptical light. Or the fact that I can’t just validate my life with anything monolothic anymore.

P.S. This rant isn’t to hate on Christian culture or the church. The church was also one of the greatest sources of friendship and genuine community for me. So I can’t bash on it completely. There are real people there too; just are there are real people everywhere.

Here and there and everywhere….

So I’ve been m.i.a. – again! – for nearly a year, and I am back? Perhaps.

P.S. I swear a bit more now, so former readers may be surprised.

2012 to 2013 was yet another learning journey for me. I fell into this fantastical love relationship that had every movie cliche possible, including walks along the Seine, night visits to the Eiffel Tower (loveliest sight ever, a must), coffee and macaroons along the cobbled streets. A real Canadian-in-Paris, once-in-a-lifetime existence. I’d thought we were in love. And why worry about breaking your heart? You only live once, so you go big or go home.

So when it ended, the lesson I learned was: go big or go home. Why hold on to grudges? Why validate my physical, emotional, or even spiritual self-worth on one person when there are even better experiences to be had, sharper lessons to be learned.

Some things I got into:

1) Salsa at Dancelife! I haven’t had time to do the technique or beginner lessons, but I did appear on Sunday Night socials. With my limited knowledge of basic step, mixed with some Bachata, I am slowly inching my way up the improvement ladder. Thanks to the generous support of everyone present, too – I’ve met plenty of great, energetic, helpful people. Love you all! I will try my hand at the formal classes sometime though, simply because I’d feel much better about refining my moves, balance, and so forth.

And I love salsa. It’s so sensual. Some partners you connect with at an instant, a physical know-how, and your bodies speak to another in a different language that’s strange yet familiar at once. Energy gets fed into one another in coherent dialogue. As the girl, you learn how to follow your partner’s signals, which is an art of its own and takes lots of patience. The dance itself is fun and energetic too, providing great workouts for your core and legs, and I am convincing myself that the results are starting to show…

Me and the salsa teacher.

2) Weight training. Yes, I’ve graduated from cowering at the free weights section and marvelling at all the other toned, athletic bodies to actually grabbing a weight and pumping away. I was never athletic, always the last kid to be chosen for any sports team during Elementary School, so weight training has opened me to a complete new world. I would have never had the confidence nor believed that I would be capable of lifting weights one day. Or that I’d be able to commit to a weekly schedule.  I actually look forward to the gym now, because I have more energy getting around – my movements are more fluid, everything comes from the core. I love a great workout, the kind that burns your whole being and leaves you crawling home in pain and satisfaction. Of course, I’m exaggerating here, but when shit was hitting the fan and I felt the world crumbling around me, the only thing that kept me grounded – and I kid you not, that kept me from reaching for cigarettes or sharp objects – was knowing that here, now, I’ve got this set to finish up, and no matter how painful or impossible it seems, I’m gonna fucking  go big or go home. Just me, the ground, and pure energy.

P.S. I have resumed swimming when I could drag my lazy ass to the pool and bother with showering/changing/hair removal/etc. I’m not the best swimmer either, but water does make me feel connected.

3) And, happily enough, last but not least…. writing!
Having neglected Fortune’s Blade and Night Star, I’ve at least gotten back to the latter and banged out another scene and rewritten the first chapter. More nuance, more dialogue, more humanity. My great struggle right now is actually finding a story, as I’ve got a beautiful world laid down with no real action. For sure I will be writing about angels, and tackling some conflict between the central angel figure and higher divine powers – a Christian motif. Now what next.. I will post a tidbit when I can.

—————————–

Some stuff I’ve kept doing:

1) The obvious, school. To be fair, school became much more difficult as I struggled to stay interested in my classes. The prof for my English course, New Writing in Canada, grades everything so unreasonably that I have given up pleasing her expectations and have resorted to half-assery for the rest of the semester. Of course, my grades suffered too. At least, I did meet some great people in class (hello there, you know who you are!) Venetian Renaissance had potential, but the class was so disorganized I just couldn’t drag myself to them.

2) Work at a music school as a docile admin lady – pays my Starbucks, incessant book-buying, and general shopping, so I’m good. I do meet a spectrum of people, which makes for interesting psychological studies.

3) Teaching piano/tutoring English…. it’s like storytelling, only I’m dealing with different languages/terminologies, but my approach is basically the same. Appreciate, understand, action. Now if I could only give drawing/painting lessons too, my life would be fucking wonderful.

————————–

And the most exciting: Stuff I’m gonna do this summer!

1) EXPLORE at Laval University.  I tremble at the mere thought of a blissful July spent in the gorgeous Quebec city, away from home-  not that there’s anything wrong with home, only that a change would be great – and plenty of new people to meet. I’ve heard stories of intense partying and lack of learning, and although I do secretly look forward to said parties, I really do want to brush up my French. NOT for *ahem* the person mentioned above, but for my own means. The French language is so beautiful. And I’ve been on/off it for the past years, gathering only a few Baudelaire poems and shitastic grammer to my usage, so I should ideally try my hand at immersion.

2) Frosh Week Orientation Leader. Quiet, nerdy me is gonna run out there and be a loud and boisterous orientation leader. I don’t even know how I can pull off such extended periods of extroversion – I’d skipped my own Frosh Week and I used to hate running around, engaging in forced teamwork, or shouting at the top of my lungs – but lately I’ve just been attracted to people of energy. Froshies all pumped up for a fantastic new year. I feel it’ll be meaningful to mentor them a little and just give them a great time. So this will involve serious stepping out of my comfort zone, which, at this point in life… I need.

3) Muay Thai, oh yes! That’s the reason I started “weightlifting”/gymming. Because I’m gonna kick some ass – or more realistically, learn about precision, conditioning, and do whatever else they do in Muay Thai. I found this awesome deal online, some interested friends, and voila – summer plan, down.

4) Rock Climbing. Another online deal, and one of my friends was interested – so. Trying my hand at that, too.

5) And… possibly, a trial “learn to fly” lesson at my municipal airport. Maybe I’ll even get a trial with a hot pilot

Crazy summer eh? I’m looking forward to it, looking forward to life again. And of course, last but not least – most importantly of all – I look forward to spending more time with my friends and family, the people who matter, the people cheering me on everyday.

What are your summer plans, everyone? Are you going to step out of your comfort zone? What’s one thing you’ve done recently outside of your comfort bubble?

London Bridge, Shakespeare, and More!

On Monday I wandered off to Brighton Train station once more (after getting lost for a bit) – and headed off to London Bridge and the Embankment area. It was lovely, and now that I think back, one of my favourite parts of London. Simply strolling along the (smelly) river Thames, poking my head into various markets and small shops and cafes, and of course – the Shakespeare Globe Theatre and Tate Modern Museum.

So as you can see, the Embankment with Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre (arena-shaped white building with brown framings).

Another forbidden shot I snuck whilst inside the theatre. On stage there are actors rehearsing a Japanese translation of a Shakespearean play.

 Afterwards I headed to Tate Modern next door. Free museum = my idea of heaven. There was also a Damien Hirst exhibition at the moment, incredibly cool stuff. I got to see the famed shark (and snapped a photo of it as well) as well as various animals perserved in frozen liquid, and Hirst’s other random modern artwork.

Exhibition for Japanese artist “Kusama”.

It’s blurry, but here is a photo I snapped of Damien Hirst’s famed shark.

Afterwards I tried this thing called a “toastie” – sort of like a sub, but pressed into a grill/heater!

I do not think this is terribly significant but I’ve never seen toastie’s in Canada. It is the perfect meal for me – sandwichy yet warm!

——————-

Tuesday: Ate to my heart’s content until I thought my stomach would burst. Here’s a taste of what I had this morning: English-style breakfast!

Breakfast at the Mock Turtle, ISN’T THIS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL CAFE you have ever seen?

I apologize for the use of caps lock there as I realize they completely disqualify whatever ladylike qualities I had just attempted to effect. But food excites me too much.

Afterwards I spent a good five hours at the British Museum, poking my head into every exhibit I could find. Some shots:

Below I have a board game from Ur, some Classical sculptures, and cermaics.

After dinner, my cousin and I watched a cabaret, The Lady Boys of Bangkok. These are some gorgeous men-turned-women (or transsexuals) here. They have an alien beauty which I best describe as “uncanny” – creepy, because they resemble actual girls, but with slight deviations.

These gorgeous “ladies” are all men, actually, with surgically-transformed bodies.

 My impressions?
1) For such a small town, Brighton is super artsy. They seem to have a great underground music scene as well, which I regretably have not been able to check out. I would love to live here for, say, a few months sometime.
2) Unfortunately, I met the ugly side of National Rail as well: once hot day, a train had no air-conditioning nor open windows (and for the spoiled Canadian this is real fuckery) -  it became, literally, one hour of sauna. The day after there was an awful delay as well.
3) Luckily for me, a kind gentleman chatted with me while I was on the sauna-train and offered me his newspaper as well. I also witnessed a few acts of kindness where, one instance, another gentleman helped a mentally-disabled passenger find his way.

THIS is London, 2012: Part 1!

I’ve been offline for – it seems now – almost one year, and I apologize for the absence, dear readers. So I am getting back on track, and this time with purpose: the highlights, stories, and yes, even the not so glamorous bits, of a summer European trip!

On Saturday June 19 I arrived at the Gatwick Airport in London, England. (June has requested I take photos of the airport, and whilst I forgot the photos of Toronto Pearson, I managed to snap one Instagramish shot of Gatwick – which unfortunately is not nearly as pretty.) 

Brighton train station, which captures the similar romantic essence of travel and destination.

 My dear cousin picked me up and got me over to Brighton, this lovely seaside town, where I stayed over for the next few weeks. I wish I could spend more time there, because it’s incredibly quaint with a characteristic English-ness mixed with the fresh breezes and colourful wooden houses of coastal cities. You’d find a pub or cafe around every corner, nestled alongside tiny residential areas. The rock beach was lovely too.

In Brighton, the seaside party starts early… 7 PM!

The next morning I got up bright and early to attend a Sunday Eucharist service at Westminster Abbey. Brighton is about an hour away from London, so I took the train and – fearing I’d missed the service – ended up hopping over to Westminster Cathedral instead. I thought, aren’t they the same place? No, but it was a pleasant surprise nonetheless! It’s smaller, more local, and much less intimidating than the famed Abbey, built in the Romanesque style, and friendlier. There weren’t clergymen patrolling about and forbidding you to take photos, for one thing. So I snapped some shots to my heart’s content.
 

The main altar of the cathedral… very antique and mysterious place to worship.

And as you know by now, I’m a big cathedral junkie And as soon as the service ended, I hopped over to the Abbey to attend Evensong at 3 PM. I wish I could tell you what it’s like, because the Abbey is breathtakingly gorgeous and like a piece from another world. One truly feels the presence of the divine here, as Abbott Suger (?) once declared that stained glass helps reflect divine light. Combined with the sounds of the choir, and the ethereal ceiling, the mass was truly transporting.

[JUST managed to shoot that, as photos were forbidden.]

 However lovely that was, it had its downside too. For one thing – I couldn’t believe this – we “late” worshippers (ie. those who arrived on the dot) got these seats facing the sides instead so we could not even SEE the main altar! Even though parts of the service were conducted from our position.

The same day I also went to a special exhibition at the National Gallery, featuring works by J.M.W. Turner – gorgeous artworks. Afterwards my cousin met up with me and we wandered past Buckingham Palace, Trafalgar Square, and hit a pub with a mutual friend for… fish and chips!

Me at the entrance to the Buckingham!

We rounded the night with desserts at a delicious cake shop:

And how could I forget good ol’ London Tube, the historically-imbued , and so somewhat antique, yet ultra- convenient transit system that puts the Torontonian TTC to shame.

My impressions thus far:

1) I was confused at how crazy the weather was, here. On Sunday I was wearing practically half my travelling gear – eg. two tank tops, two cardigans, coat, thick scarf; whilst today I went out in my summer dress and felt sweltering.
2) London is busy. And hurried. Everyone tends to their own business, with their commuter poker face.
3) I drank coffees and lattes everywhere, which were all of good to amazing quality.
4) and of course, the language is beautiful… I mean, the accent.

I am really not dead!

So after a couple months haitus I am aiming to come back. I haven’t written for ages nor have I blogged because, in honesty, too many personal issues got in the way. I also did not wish to elaborate on them online either and because they were ALL I could think about – I had to stop blogging.

What’s happened between then and now, creative-wise? I’ve done a couple of paintings and discovered a shitload of electro music. The stuff is the best though I profess to being a big electro noob: I can’t classify the genres half the time. Though personally I believe that genre labels are more for marketing and organizing conveniences than anything: the average fan feels so much more intelligent when able to decipher the differences between Moombahton, Deeptech, and Acid-Progressive House mixed with French Touch and Dubstep hybrid thingies. The music is either good, or not good. I’ll link you to some favourites:

I always loved this tune; the “washy” beat, the signature house sound, the laid-back yet chill atmosphere. Perfect for the car or for study. I return to it constantly as it strikes the perfect balance between vibe and relaxation.

Everyone’s heard deadmau5; if you haven’t, get your ass over to above link RIGHT NOW! I like his sound much; sometimes he goes progressive, and I love those bits the most. I like the way he layers his sound; a little orchestral at times. “Alone with You” is great for partying, for building up atmosphere, almost trance-like. Fav.

Incredible cheese but irresistible; I can’t help but think spikey hair, chiseled cheeks, chains, BMW’s. I feel like the non-Asian who swoons over fortune-cookie flavoured Jeremy Lin ice cream and imagines that as the ultimate sum and commentary of the Asian diasporic identity. Being Asian myself, I sort of know how racial stereotyping feels. Yet I can’t resist the beat. This is definitely a more subcultured kind of music. Love the siren sound in the middle.

How about some Dubstep? Friend’s recommendation, this.
I won’t tell you what mental imagery it conjures up. Dubstep, when well done, can be incredibly otherworldly.

His sound’s more spare but the beats are great nonetheless. Listen to the way he structures this piece; building to the drop, interjecting bits of sound here and there; how he combines all the melodic motifs together in the end. One of his masterpieces!

I have a huge playlist if anyone’s interested; I have always loved sharing music, and electro seems to be everyone’s favourite nowadays.  Lately I’ve been getting my head into music events in and out of Toronto; if anyone’s interested in anything, honestly, invite me along   I’ll be blogging about the (two!) symphonies I watched over reading week, the funk event I’m attending tonight, and – fingers crossed – the Ultra Spin at Guv next week (Wolfgang Gartner!!)

I shall leave you with some Gartner – fun music, though after awhile his works all start sounding.the.same.

Can’t resist the deadmau5 here – I love DJ collabs and this one is quite well done. The melody, higher parts and offbeats strike me as more Gartner, while the textures and kick drum beat very deadmau5.

To readers: I haven’t caught up with you online for so long, how are you doing? And I am undergoing a blog revamp right now: writing blog, art blog, music blog, or life blog – I don’t know what to keep it. What do you think?
Or – discuss away your favourite type of music, and if you have two cent’s opinion on Electro, fire away too!

Tim Powers: On Stranger Tides, Indeed

"On Stranger Tides" by Tim Powers

[Warning: May contain spoilers.]

“A writer of extraordinary imaginative powers,” states the Milwaukee Journal Sentinal for On Stranger Tides by Tim Powers.

Which is, I think, a statement as accurately put as a sea-captain’s sword.

Powers has somehow managed to weave a narrative with tight pacing, recognizable yet reinterpreted tropes and archetype-reversals, and crazy connections between Vodoo magic, pirates, Aristotlean/Pythagorean metaphysics, and memory projection. His worldbuilding and cultural-syncreticism are top-notch. Though sometimes satirical (how can you take a ship called The Vociferous Carmichael seriously?) he uses comedy and surprise quite tastefully. There’s a highly textualized mixture or tension between the Old World Europe and New World Caribbean, and beautifully described sunsets that make you want that tropical beach getaway so badly.

Overall, the story borders between satire and hybridity and is always fantastic, taking the awesome (or cheesy) pirate culture we know and love and completely redoing it with myth and magic. Though the characters read at times more like comic stock personalities than breathing persons, there’s a smattering of  articulately characterized and purely hilarious dialogue from Captain Davies and some nuanced memory-passages that build character insecurities. I particularly enjoyed the pages surrounding the Fountain of Youth – downright creepy, and it allows us readers to glimpse into the memories (and insecurities) of different characters in quest for the magical water. Shandy is a fair protagonist, nothing special, but his character lies in performance/action rather than thought. Which I appreciate, were he not so magically “adept” at fencing, cooking, puppetry, and everything he put his mind to (at least Powers remembered to Shandy with some memorable weaknesses!) The final meeting with Uncle Sebastien, who spurred Shandy’s desire to travel and reclaim his rightful inheritance in the first place, is a bit disappointing and anti-climatic, but thankfully salvaged by the physical and psychological sacrifice Shandy undergoes to win his girl when he duels Blackbeard in the end.

At the same time though, OST is not exactly meant for the fainthearted for all its humour. The magic described is incredibly dark, full of dead bodies and rotten bits. It deals with possession, demon-work, and nasty magic-rituals performed with blood. Which makes the novel much more haunting at certain points.

Despite some ingenuity, the book often flags because of its narrative layers and complexity. Books 1 and 2 can be almost different stories/expositions, while 3 is a loose retying of the problems posed in Book 1. The parts about the sailor Bonnet are somewhat irrelevant to the conflict-and-resolution structure of the novel itself. And Beth, Shandy’s female interest, could have been interesting – if not for her damsel-in-distress role, cardboard personality, and often comatose state.  The minimality of female influence in Power’s (machostic) world is indeed interesting, given the girl pirates often popular elsewhere. Most of his women are reactive or complementary as opposed to agents of change. Beth  does wake up in the end though, thankfully, in the heartwrenching duel/sacrifice passage I mentioned above.

The very title, On Stranger Tides, says all, and is wonderfully introduced by the opening epigraph: “And unmoor’d souls may drift on stranger tides/ Than those men know of, and be overthrown / By winds that would not even stir a hair…” which is, exactly, the kind of ride you’re in once you crack open the first page.

4/5 stars.

P.S. As a story it was more successful than its film interpretation Pirates of the Caribbean 4: On Stranger Tides. Humour and archetype-exploitation work because of Power’s skill; he is an experienced storyteller who merges different ideas and perspectives very fluidly, and the plot-flow moves effortlessly even if the heavy prose and cultural complexities occasionally bog down the writing. What he did works. Not so much for Pirates 4, a strange deviation from the quirkiness and novelty that characterized it in the first place.

————

to readers: Have you read the book? How does it compare to the movie?

Christians and Queerness.

Growing up in church, I’ve heard many things about homosexuality. More often than not it immediately brings judgment; breathe the word “queer” and you’re set for eternal hell. But I don’t think it should be like that.

 

Homosexuality is not a simple ethical mishap. Some people align with it because they think it’s an equal relationship with no different-sex hierarchy. Others might have a gene. Still others call it a possibility or  a “live” perspective on sexual reality and an expression of unleashed repressions (the greater the better, aka. Gay Pride PArade). But I tend to think it’s a constructed identity and as with all constructed things, it’s malleable.

 

Also, what are we supposed to make of bible verses like this? (Matthew 19:10-12)

 

“10The disciples said to him, “If such is the case of a man with his wife, it is better not to marry.” 11But he said to them, “Not everyone can receive this saying, but only those to whom it is given. 12For there are eunuchs who have been so from birth, and there are eunuchs who have been made eunuchs by men, and there are eunuchs who have made themselves eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. Let the one who is able to receive this receive it.”

 

I am not equating  homosexuality with “eunuchs” (people rendered sexless). But what I think the verse does speak to is the social and normative side of sexuality that should not be determining our faith in Jesus’ words. The Bible has already told us that everyone is born in “sin” and that no one sin is better than the other. You can’t really blame anyone for being eunuchs, or having some queer/deviant sexual preference (which have been deemed such by society) any more than you can blame them for being humans subject to the same sins or “failures” as other people.

 

In the case of this Biblical verse, Jesus is saying that those who don’t fit (by nature, or by choice) into the heterosexual profiling of marriage can be left alone. They can’t “marry” in the spiritual sense (going back to the allegory between Christ and the Church, where the faith system functions ONLY through dialogue between the greater and the less, the Creator and the created, body and spirit, etc. For faith to exist, there has to be difference, and some form of complement and submission.) I do think whatever is “wrong” with homosexuality, Jesus intends us to turn to love and acceptance instead of judgement. “Not everyone can receive this saying, but only those to whom it is given.” I’m not sure how the Church goes about working with homosexuals but whatever they do, it’s not my role to point fingers and accuse.

 

Note how the chapter shifts to Jesus blessing the children after. It continues to illustrate Christ’s love for the marginalized (children, eunuchs). After that he trumps a rich man who thinks he has all, but actually doesn’t. He’s sort of reversing traditional social norms, isnt He?

 

I do think, in the end, what matters most is the quality of the relationship between two people, whether they’re the same or opposite gender. Love is recognizing the uniqueness of that other. Uniqueness being sexuality, personality, and so forth. And I do think a good relationship is one where you can pull down self-barriers and self-projections to appreciate how intrinsically different someone is from you. Think about how much sex factors into the “quality” of a person. Expectations, roles, looks, character, mannerisms, etc. all stem from sexuality and so, for some people, it might make all the difference in the healthiness of a relationship. Maybe, in a heterosexual relationship, the constant interaction with the opposite gender ultimately leaves you more open-minded and open to the perspective of someone biologically and psychologically different from you. If sex is the ultimate characteristic of being human. On the other hand, how does self-projection and difference work in a same-sex relationship? I don’t know.

 

**On another note, I did make a comparison between God/humans and man/woman to illustrate the idea of complement. It doesn’t mean that God exists because of US, though. The Christian God created things ex nihilo, is being from nothing – but He does love us pretty darned much to sacrifice His Son for so-called sin.

 

To my readers: Thoughts? Comments? Concerns?