There’s something within me begging to be written, and I think it just woke up again.
I had huge plans and hopes for my M.Div thesis, but they really didn’t work out in a way I was happy with, which is still one of the big loose ends of my life. That year (08-09) was not a good one for me brain- or heart-wise, but I didn’t quite grasp that at the time, and I feel like I’m only recently actually putting that all back together.
I started writing this weekend, journaling really, and some of what came out felt awfully familiar. So I pulled out my thesis, for the first time in four years, and finally managed to read it again.
The question that drove me was: What does it really mean for the church to call ourselves “the body of christ” when that body is also a crucified/tortured/broken body? What does that mean for queer people in particular? And for that matter, what are we doing when we feed each other the body of christ, however symbolic or metaphorical we want that to be?
It’s a good and provocative question, and I really don’t think I answered it. I gathered a lot of wonderful books, and then I sort of hit a wall and couldn’t deal with intense theology. Which, given that I was trying to write a fairly intense theological paper, was not terribly useful.
There are bits of my work that aren’t bad. There’s something there, I just couldn’t run with it as much as I had wanted to. My brain felt stuck, somehow. But I’ve got the beginning of something, and then I looked back at some other things I wrote in seminary, and it crossed my mind – those could be chapters.
Apparently there’s a book somewhere in here.
So I’m going to try and let this happen. I’m diving back in to my stack of unread theology books, and I’ve got a blank notebook, and I guess we’ll see.