My God, whom I praise, Psalm 109 do not remain silent, for people who are wicked and deceitful have opened their mouths against me; they have spoken against me with lying tongues. With words of hatred they surround me; they attack me without cause. In return for my friendship they accuse me, but I am a man of prayer. They repay me evil for good, and hatred for my friendship. Appoint someone evil to oppose my enemy; let an accuser stand at his right hand. When he is tried, let him be found guilty, and may his prayers condemn him. May his days be few; may another take his place of leadership. May his children be fatherless and his wife a widow. May his children be wandering beggars; may they be driven from their ruined homes. May a creditor seize all he has; may strangers plunder the fruits of his labor. May no one extend kindness to him or take pity on his fatherless children. May his descendants be cut off, their names blotted out from the next generation. May the iniquity of his fathers be remembered before the Lord; may the sin of his mother never be blotted out. May their sins always remain before the Lord, that he may blot out their name from the earth. For he never thought of doing a kindness, but hounded to death the poor and the needy and the brokenhearted. He loved to pronounce a curse-- may it come back on him. He found no pleasure in blessing-- may it be far from him. He wore cursing as his garment; it entered into his body like water, into his bones like oil. May it be like a cloak wrapped about him, like a belt tied forever around him. May this be the Lord’s payment to my accusers, to those who speak evil of me. But you, Sovereign Lord, help me for your name’s sake; out of the goodness of your love, deliver me. For I am poor and needy, and my heart is wounded within me. I fade away like an evening shadow; I am shaken off like a locust. My knees give way from fasting; my body is thin and gaunt. I am an object of scorn to my accusers; when they see me, they shake their heads. Help me, Lord my God; save me according to your unfailing love. Let them know that it is your hand, that you, Lord, have done it. While they curse, may you bless; may those who attack me be put to shame, but may your servant rejoice. May my accusers be clothed with disgrace and wrapped in shame as in a cloak. With my mouth I will greatly extol the Lord; in the great throng of worshipers I will praise him. For he stands at the right hand of the needy, to save their lives from those who would condemn them. | Psalm 109 Do not fail to act, O Thea, while the mouth of the one who hates me is opened against me. She speaks to me with a lying tongue; she surrounds me with hateful words and fights against me without a cause. Despite my love, she accuses me; but as for me, I pray that your love will envelop her. She repays evil for good, and hatred for my love. She does not remember to show mercy, but persecutes the poor and needy and seeks to destroy the brokenhearted. She loves cursing, but let it not come upon her; she takes no delight in blessing, but let it shower upon her. She wears cursing like a garment, let it not soak into her body like water or into her bones like oil; Let it not be to her like the cloak which she wraps around herself, and like the belt that she wears continually. O Thea my Goddess, for your tender mercy’s sake, deliver her. For she is poor and needy, and her heart is wounded within her. She has faded away like a shadow when it lengthens; she is shaken off like a locust. Her knees are weak, and her flesh is wasted and gaunt. She has become a reproach to all around her; they see and shake their heads. Help her, O Thea my Goddess; save her for your mercy’s sake. She may curse, but you will bless; give her cause to rejoice once more. Then I will give great thanks to you with my mouth; in the midst of the multitude I will praise you; Because you stand beside the one who is most needy, to save her from her own stony heart. |
I rarely post on Thealogical Lady twice in one day, but the psalms from both morning and evening prayer today merited attention. I invite you to compare the NIV version of Psalm 109 (see below on the left) with my Thean transformation of it, which I finished just today (see below on the right).
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![]() During my prayer today, I rewrote Psalm 107. This took me the better part of two hours--a considerable amount of time compared to what I've spent on other individual psalms. I think it required extra time because what I wanted it to say reminded me of a Christian heresy called Pelagianism, which basically says that we human beings have what we need within ourselves to attain/earn salvation--no extra help from God (via the Christ) necessary. The difference between Christian and Thean thought here is twofold: first, according to Theanism, salvation is not something that human beings (or Creation at large) need--there is no doctrine of "Original Sin" in Theanism. Theanism claims that we are not now nor have we ever been nor could we ever be separate from Thea, even when we do wrong or commit evil deeds. Thea's love is stronger than any individual's or community's ability to do wrong--Thea's love, which binds all Creatures together as her Sacred Body, can never be torn apart. Second, according to Theanism, all Creatures are Thea's Incarnation. Whereas Christianity requires God's Word to be made incarnate in a single, sinless man who is sacrificed by death on a cross for the world's salvation, Theanism says that we--all of us--are Thea. Therefore we are individually and collectively all we will ever need to fulfill our ultimate purpose, which is to love and bear witness to one another, particularly by answering the passion that stirs deepest within our hearts, no matter what obstacles lay before or around or beneath or behind us. When we experience fear, doubt, or distress, as the people in Psalm 107 do, we only need to remember who we are: Thea's Sacred Body, capable of fulfilling our destiny to love if we can just turn inward to remember that love is the stuff we're made of. Psalm 107 Give thanks to Thea, for her love is a holy flame that burns brightly within her Creatures. Some wander in the desert, finding no way to a city where their hearts might dwell. They hunger and thirst; their flesh languishes. Then they look within themselves for Thea’s help, and their divine fire melts their icy fear; Thea thus puts their feet on a straight path to go to a city where they might dwell. Some sit in darkness and deep gloom, bound fast in misery and iron; They are humbled with difficult work; they stumble, and find none to help. Then they look within themselves for Thea’s help, and their divine fire melts their icy fear; Thea thus leads them out of darkness and deep gloom and breaks their bonds asunder. Some go down to the sea in ships and ply their trade in deep waters; Then a stormy wind rises up, which tosses high the waves of the sea. They mount up to the skies and fall back to the depths; their hearts freeze because of their peril. They reel and stagger like drunkards and are at their wits’ end. Then they look within themselves for Thea’s help, and their divine fire melts their icy fear; Thea thus stills the storm to a whisper and she brings them to the harbor they are bound for. Thea’s love changes deserts into pools of water and dry land into water-springs. She settles the hungry there, and they find a city to dwell in. They sow fields, and plant vineyards, and bring in a fruitful harvest. The wise will ponder these things, and consider well the holy fire of Thea that burns within. Ten months ago today, I wrote a post detailing my frustrations with the characterization of God in Psalm 106. I rediscovered that post just now after transforming that very psalm. This is what Thea looks like to me. ♥
Psalm 106 We give thanks to you, O Thea, for your love for your Creatures is unending. When we were enslaved we did not consider your marvelous works, nor remember the abundance of your love; we defied you, believing not even you could help us. But you set us free, making your power known. You rebuked the sea, and it dried up, and you led us through the deep as through a desert. You delivered us from the hand of those who hated us and empowered us to escape from those who would have held us captive. But we soon forgot your deeds and did not take time to discern your wisdom for ourselves. A craving seized us in the wilderness, and we put you to the test in the desert. We envied Miriam in the camp, Miriam, your chosen one. We forgot you, O Thea, you who had liberated us. We grumbled in our tents and would not listen to your voice. Then we were overtaken by the hand of our enemy and those who hated us ruled over us. Our enemies oppressed us, and we were humbled under their hand. Time after time you delivered us from our enslavement, but we forgot your love and sank into traps of our own making. Nevertheless, you saw our distress when we voiced our lamentation. You remembered your love, even when we forgot it, and lifted us up once more. Blessed be you, O Thea, author of Creation, and may the blessing of your love ever be upon us! This is a psalm that originally spoke of the stubborn hearts and repeated rebelling of God's people, despite God's goodness and generosity. In the original psalm, God grew angry and finally allowed the people to die off to see if it would make any difference with them.
I believe my rendering of this psalm speaks to a Thean worldview, one in which we as Creatures still rebel and in which God still resists that rebellion, but in which rebellion, resistance, and resolution are imagined in a very different way. Psalm 78 Hear my teaching, my sisters, incline your ears to the words of my mouth. I will open my mouth in a parable; I will declare the mysteries of ancient times. That which we have heard and known, and what our foremothers have told us, we will not hide from their children. We will recount to generations to come the liberating deeds and loving power of Thea. She established wisdom, which she gave us to teach our children; That the generations to come might know, and the children yet unborn; that they in their turn might tell it to their children; So that they might discover their divine identity and live as icons of her in the world. She worked marvels in the sight of our foremothers, in the land where they were once slaves. She split open the sea and let them pass through; she made the waters stand up like walls. She led them with a cloud by day, and all the night through with a glow of fire. She split the hard rocks in the wilderness and gave them drink as from the great deep. She brought streams out of the cliff, and the waters gushed out like rivers. And she said to them, “This! This is what I want you to do for your fellow Creatures!” But they strayed from the path she had given them, rebelling in the desert against her. They tested her in their hearts, demanding food for their craving. They railed against her and said, “Can you set a table in the wilderness? True, she struck the rock, the waters gushed out, and the gullies overflowed; but are you able to give bread or to provide meat for her creatures?” When Thea heard this, a fire ignited in her heart, For they had no faith in Thea; how could they possibly have faith in themselves? So she commanded the clouds above and opened the doors of heaven. She rained down manna upon them to eat and gave them grain from heaven. So mortals ate the bread of angels; she provided for them food enough. She caused the east wind to blow in the heavens and led out the south wind by her might. She rained down flesh upon them like dust and winged birds like the sand of the sea. She let it fall in the midst of their camp and round about their dwellings. So they are and were well filled, for she gave them what they craved. But they did not believe in her promise, that her power to work miracles was also their power. They remained steadfast in their stubbornness and had no faith in her wonderful works. Then Thea woke as though from sleep, like a warrior refreshed with wine. She set her eyes on her Creatures, whom she had always loved; And she whispered in their hearts once more, that they might recognize their true calling, their deepest yearning, and become her miracle-working hands and feet and heart in the world. ![]() I am pleased to invite all who identify as women to monthly Thean Evening Prayer, hosted by Pathways of Grace, beginning September 3, 2016, at 5:00pm. We will meet every month thereafter each first Saturday of the month. Thean Evening Prayer is a prayer experience designed to facilitate a warm, safe, intimate encounter with the Divine Feminine. Patterned after Christian evening prayer, the texts include psalms rewritten in the voice of women with feminine names, titles and pronouns for God(dess). My hope is that this prayer experience will not only embrace hearts and challenge intellects, but honor whole bodies by stimulating the many senses. All who self-identify as women are welcome. Prayer will be followed by a light potluck supper—all are invited to bring a bite to share. Space is limited to twenty people per gathering, so I invite you to reserve a spot here at Meetup.com. If you have any questions, you are welcome to contact me by visiting my contact page or by e-mailing me at lifeloveliturgy@gmail.com. ![]() As a cisgender, heterosexual, white person, I have taken the words of my LGBTQ+ friends to heart over the last week and quieted myself so that they and their community could be heard in the wake of the devastation at Pulse in Orlando, Florida. As a minister, however, I also have a responsibility not to keep silent forever, because my silence might imply my endorsement or approval of the actions of the man who shot and killed/wounded over a hundred members of the Latinx LGBTQ community. Let me be clear: it is not the will or desire of God (whom I call Thea) that LGBTQ people should be targets of violence. It is not Thea's will that LGBTQ people should in any way change or hide or be ashamed of their sexual identity. Individuals and communities that intentionally marginalize/persecute the LGBTQ community for their sexuality are absolutely wrong to do so, full-stop. These persecutors are the ones who need to change, not the ones they persecute. I mourn for the precious lives lost and those that were forever changed in this mass shooting. I also mourn for the shooter, whose life was lost fighting the wrong fight. I pray for peace, solace, and love to envelop the LGBTQ community so they might heal and be strengthened to be who they are with enormous pride, and I pray for compassion, a desire for mutual understanding, and forgiveness among all of us, because we could all use much more of that. As for me, I have spent this week letting my LGBTQ friends know that I love them and I'm thinking of them, and I've also spent this week lovingly communicating with those who would promote marginalization of another group, those who follow Islam, in order to show that fundamentalist extremism does not equate or speak for religion as a whole. I've spent this week lifting up those in politics who can make a difference in keeping guns out of the wrong hands. I've done what I could, and I will continue to do what I can to ensure that a tragedy like this is forever a thing of the past. I pray that you and all of us will do the same--not just pray, but take tangible steps to prevent this kind of tragedy from ever taking place again. I came across this psalm in my prayer today, and it seems to fit: Psalm 79 O Thea, those who do evil have come among us; they have made Creation a pile of rubble. They have shed blood like water throughout all of Creation, and there was no one to bury their victims. Help them and us, O Thea! Change their hearts and ours; let your compassion be swift to meet us all and spread among us. Help us, O Thea; deliver us and teach us your forgiveness, that we may taste and see the sweetness of your mercy. O Thea, let the sorrowful sighing of those in chains come before you, and by your great might give hope to those who are condemned to die. We will give you thanks forever and show forth your praise from age to age. I am happy to announce for my readers in the Phoenix area that I will be collaborating with Pathways of Grace to offer Thean Evening Prayer starting this autumn (Thea willing!). I'm still in the process of discerning exactly what this will look like, but I envision evening prayer after the pattern of Christian vespers (using Thean and other texts focused on the women and the Divine Feminine) followed by a potluck supper.
I will announce the firm details when I have them, hopefully within the next week. In the meantime, I ask for your prayers and invite you to share this news with anyone who may be interested. In my prayers today, I came across Psalm 15, which asks an important question:
Psalm 15 Thea, who is an icon of you? Who reveals your holy Body? Each of us—whether blameless or guilty, whether she speaks the truth from her heart or deceives; Whether there is guile upon her tongue; whether she offers evil or kindness to her friend; whether she heaps generosity or contempt upon her neighbor; Whether she has sworn to do no wrong or makes a vow and then takes back her word. We are, each of us, icons of you, because we are your living Body, broken, holy, and ever healing. What a marvel, that you should knit us together in your love, sustaining us for love’s sake alone. Blessed be Thea, our author and our sacred self, now and forever. Amen, amen. Psalm 94 came up in my morning prayer today, and it gave me pause. I noted these lines first: As often as I said, "My foot has slipped," And then I noted these: Can a corrupt community have any part with you, The difficulty I have with this psalm is that every person who prays the psalms does evil at some time or another--and yet Thea upholds them. Many people point fingers at communities that frame evil into wisdom, but those finger-pointing people do evil, too, as do their own communities. We are all broken--we are all trying.
I believe that all of Creation is Thea's--God's--Sacred Body, and yet we are mean and spiteful. We do wrong. We act cruelly--on purpose, and by carelessness. Sometimes, even often, we are good, forbearing, and virtuous, but no one is any of those things at every moment. How can Thea get behind any of us when we are kind one moment and hypocritical the next? And yet--Thea upholds each one of us. She loves us without condition. We are each part of her, the stuff of the stars, the evolution of billions of years of her creative, imaginative love. This psalm reminds me of all that I have ever done wrong and all I have ever attempted to do right. It also reminds me that Thea values me--and the person I despise, just as much as the person I love--no matter what. Her enveloping love is scandalous by the standards of human interaction. We want justice, not overwhelming, unwavering love. And yet Thea gives us more than we think we or others deserve. She's more radical than any one of us in her lovingness. I sit here, pondering the enormity of her, of all of us who are her Sacred Body, and I am overwhelmed. She loves me, and him, and her, and you. What if I loved like that--even a little bit? Not in order to be recognized as someone special or good, but just for the sake of loving, just like she loves us for the sake of loving? Maybe I'd judge the evil-doing of others less readily. Maybe I'd learn greater compassion. Maybe I'd see the holy light of Thea that dwells in me in the eyes and hearts of those I find difficult to be around. Maybe I'd be tapping into the love that brought me into being and which sustains me from moment to moment. Maybe I'd be learning to recognize my own small part in the divine Self. And maybe I'd get to taste what it is like to be the Great Love that binds us all together. ♥ Today Christians celebrate Pentecost, the day on which the Spirit of God descended on a room full of Jesus' followers, giving them the ability to speak with tongues of fire and be understood wherever they proclaimed the good news. It seems fitting that it should be this day, the third day after I vowed to begin a nine-month thealogical journey, that I should write again. Spirit, or Holy Ruach, has come over me in a new way, inviting me to give birth to something new, something holy, and as with any pregnancy, I will not know the face of this new presence until I have given birth to it. Today psalms 71 and 73 spoke to me especially, but I will only quote psalm 73 here: Whom have I in Creation but you? As a Christian, I yearned for something, deep in my belly, and I came close, so close, to it many times. As a Thean, however, I believe that what I've sought my whole life has been with me all along, and I finally have eyes and arms to see and embrace her.
I look forward to seeing how this nine-month journey unfolds, in all its challenges and blessings. I am nearly finished with the revisions of my psalter. Praying with it gives me chills, wonder, and hope. ♥
Psalm 24 Creation is Thea and all that is in it, the universe and all who dwell therein. For it is she who splashes as the seas and is firm as earth alongside the great rivers. “Who can descend the valley of Thea? and who can stand in her holy place? “Those who have a pure heart, who have not pledged themselves to falsehood, nor sworn by what is a fraud. They shall receive a blessing from Thea and a just reward from the Goddess whose body they are.” Such is the generation of those who seek her, of those who seek your face, O Goddess of Creation. Lift up your heads, O gates; lift them high, O everlasting doors; and the Queen of glory shall come in. “Who is this Queen of glory?” “Thea, strong and mighty, Thea, mighty in battle.” Lift up your heads, O gates; lift them high, O everlasting doors; and the Queen of glory shall come in. “Who is she, this Queen of glory?” “The Lady of Creation, she is the Queen of glory.” Psalm 25 To you, O Thea, I lift up my flesh; my Goddess, I put my trust in you. Let none who look to you be put to shame; let the treacherous be disappointed in their schemes. Show me your ways, O Thea, and teach me your paths. Lead me in your truth and teach me, for you are the Goddess, the breath of my flesh; in you I have trusted all day long. Remember, O Thea, your compassion and love, for they are everlasting. Remember not the wrongdoing of my youth and my transgressions; remember me according to your love and for the sake of your goodness, O Thea. Gracious and upright is Thea; therefore she teaches her Creatures in her ways. She guides the humble in doing right and teaches her way to the lowly. All the paths of Thea are love and faithfulness; the Goddess shows her Creatures her ways. Who are they who are in awe of Thea? she will teach them the way that they should choose. Thea is a friend to those who are in awe of her and will show them her covenant. My eyes are ever looking to Thea, for she shall pluck my feet out of the net. Protect my life and deliver me; let me not be put to shame, for I have trusted in you. Let integrity and uprightness preserve me, for my hope has been in you. Deliver Creation, O Goddess, out of all her troubles. Psalm 26 Give judgment for me, O Thea, for I have lived with integrity; I have trusted in Thea and have not faltered. Test me, O Thea, and try me; examine my heart and my mind. For your love is before my eyes; I have walked faithfully with you. I will wash my hands in innocence, O Thea, that I may go in procession round your altar, Singing aloud a song of thanksgiving and recounting all your wonderful deeds. Thea, I love the house in which you dwell and the place where your glory abides. My foot stands on level ground; in the full assembly I will bless Thea. ![]() This year, for the first time in eleven years, Passion Sunday (more commonly known as Palm Sunday) falls on the same day as the Spring Equinox, the first day of spring. Palm Sunday was one of the Sundays I most looked forward to growing up, because it meant receiving a palm frond, singing hosannahs, and processing around the church--ritual at its finest. Now I find that Palm Sunday, Passion Sunday, is too distinctly Christian for me to celebrate it the way I once did. It heralds the arrival of Jesus in Jerusalem, where he will be put to death. This, according to Christian teaching, is the culmination of his three-year ministry, the reason for which he was born, by most Christian estimations. The cross is the primary symbol of Christians--there is no Christianity without Jesus's murderous death (and resurrection). For me as a Thean, the death of Jesus, the Messiah, is no longer central to me. In fact, the existence of a savior of the world isn't central to me, either. Several other things assume central importance for me: the creation of the world (for isn't it amazing that there is something rather nothing?); the incarnation of Thea, which is the universe; the inherent goodness of all things; the communal command to be reconciled to one another; the radical breaking down of barriers through the sharing of table fellowship; and the ability of all beings to be transformed, whether from death to life or from poor of heart to rich of heart. Instead of looking for palm fronds to hail a redeemer, I cut branches from one of our orange trees, gave one to each of my girls, and led them on a procession through the deck and the house, that we might bless the spaces we share together. Then I invited them, in honor of the coming of spring, to plant three kinds of seeds in the earth with me. Then I took them to their room, gathered them close to me, and talked with them about what Thea is like, and how we are all of Thea, and how greatly Thea loves us and wants us to love one another. Singing hosannahs around the house on Palm Sunday has always been comfortable, but today it jars me. I am aware of how much work I have yet to do in developing my thealogy--not only my beliefs, but stories, songs, and rituals. Thean faith and liturgy may look a lot like Christian faith and liturgy, but they are not the same. I have spent a great deal of time focusing on their similarities, but now, more than ever, is the time to focus on the differences. The differences don't make Theanism better or worse than Christianity, but they do make a difference in how and what I teach my daughters about God and our place in the universe. The fact is, I don't want them to grow up thinking that they had to be saved by a God-man. I want them to know that their Goddess, their Thea, is as near as their own bodies, and that they are holy, and that they have all the power they need to effect tremendous change in the world. They don't need Jesus to be their hero; they can be their own heroes, because they are daughters of Thea. And they can do that by planting seeds, whether in the ground, in other's hearts, or in their own hearts. ♥ ![]() I first read J.R.R. Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings in high school, just before the famed film series began to appear on the silver screen. Later on, I read The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis. These epics are neighbors to one another on one of my bookshelves. The other day I picked up The Magician's Nephew, and then The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, in order to revisit the Narnia stories (and likewise The Lord of the Rings) from my now well-developed feminist perspective. And I have questions. 1) Why is it that the primary villain of the first two books of the Narnia series is a powerful woman? Why is "witch" equated with "evil"? 2) Why is it that the two female protagonists of the Narnia series, Lucy and Susan, are not meant by Aslan (the God figure and a powerful male) to fight in battle alongside their brothers when war descends on the country? Susan is given a bow and arrows, and Lucy a dagger, but together they're deemed unfit to defend the country of which they are to be rulers, even though their brothers are heading up the war effort--why? 3) Why is it that Aslan takes council with the male animals and leaves the she-animals behind? 4) Why is it, in The Lord of the Rings, that the Fellowship of the Ring is made up of nine males? And why is the whole council that gathers before the formation of the fellowship also entirely male? Didn't Arwen, a female elf, save Frodo from the ring-wraiths before that council ever took place? Why does she not lead the battle against evil as her father once did thousands of years ago? I suppose one answer is that J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis were men of their time. Why write an epic prominently featuring female defenders when women in the mid-20th century didn't defend much? Times have changed, though. Consider the Gulabi Gang in India, a band of many hundreds of thousands of women wielding sticks to deliver grassroots justice to rapists and others who violate women's rights. Consider also the Toronto Newsgirls Boxing League who planned to show up at pro-rape men's rallies (rallies which were, by a twist of irony, subsequently cancelled for fear for the men's safety). And then consider literary epics that have been told since the time of Lewis and Tolkien: The Mists of Avalon by Marion Zimmer Bradley, The Song of the Lioness Quartet by Tamora Pierce, and the Tiffany Aching series by Terry Pratchett. All three of these epic stories feature female protagonists who are defenders of their lands--they are also wise, powerful women. Aren't powerful wise women nothing more than witches, and aren't witches evil? The Catechism of the Catholic Church condemns witchcraft as "gravely contrary to the virtue of religion" (CCC 2117). But, looking at the bigger picture historically, isn't this condemnation nothing more than a condemnation of the woman's right to stand on her own two feet, to foster her own wisdom, to assert her will, and to embrace and develop her gifts? I don't understand why, and don't accept that, women are either to be dimunitive/obedient or labeled as sources of evil. And before my time in this life is done, I plan to write an epic of my own, featuring not men, who have already had centuries of attention as leaders, but women: strong, vocal, brave, wise, powerful women, women who in ages past or even in this age might be branded witches--women for whom the labels of others no longer hold any sway. They may be self-proclaimed witches or they may be something else, but in my epic, these women will be self-defined, rather than defined by a man. I can hardly wait to write it. Last year, for several months, I wrote a Thean prayer every day. In honor of International Women's Day, I'm copying the prayer I wrote a year ago today--it still strikes a holy chord with me.
Thea, as I celebrate this day of women, I celebrate you: feminine, fierce, bold, brave, enveloping, animating, generous, genuine, genius, Goddess. Amen. I have revised Psalm 10 to be a Thean psalm, and I find it speaks volumes to the current political situation in the United States.
Psalm 10 Why do you stand so far off, O Thea, and hide yourself in time of trouble? The wicked arrogantly persecute the poor, but they are trapped in the schemes they have devised. The wicked boast of their heart’s desire; the covetous curse and revile the poor. The wicked are so proud that they care not for others; their only thought is, “Creation does not matter.” Their ways are devious at all times; your judgments are far above out of their sight; they defy all their enemies. They say in their heart, “I shall not be shaken; no harm shall happen to me ever.” Their mouth is full of cursing, deceit, and oppression; under their tongue are mischief and wrong. They lurk in ambush in public squares and in secret places they murder the innocent; they spy out the helpless. They lie in wait, like a lion in a covert; they lie in wait to seize upon the lowly; they seize the lowly and drag them away in their net. The innocent are broken and humbled before them; the helpless fall before their power. Rise up, O Thea; do not forget the afflicted. Surely, you behold trouble and misery; you see it and take it into your own hand. The helpless commit themselves to you, for you are the helper of orphans. Break the power of the wicked and evil; search out their wickedness until you find none. Thea will hear the desire of the humble; you will strengthen their heart and your ears shall hear; To give justice to the orphan and oppressed, so that mere mortals may strike terror no more. This Lent I gave up all but Fair Trade chocolate for Lent. I was reminded of the stories I had heard about chocolate being produced by slave laborers, and I realized I needed to change my (considerable) love of mass-produced chocolate. As much as I love Snickers and Reese's, I wanted to learn to love the people who produced chocolate more, and that love required action, however small my action might be.
My prayers for an end to slave labor in the chocolate industry were answered today when I read that President Barack Obama signed a bill prohibiting the import of any product produced by forced labor. There are some people saying President Obama is already a lame duck president, but indeed he is not. This is one example of him using his tremendous power in his final year of service as the head of the United States, one of the world's most powerful and influential economies, to make a difference in the way the world does business. Slave labor won't be tolerated or encouraged by our dollars anymore--President Obama made sure of it. Today I am immensely proud to be an American. There are so many ways in which politics disappoint, but then there are days when a prophetic person makes a real difference in the lives of millions of people. February 24, 2016 was one of those days. Thank you, President Obama, from the bottom of my heart. ![]() A dear friend of mine from Berkeley recommended The Mists of Avalon to me several years ago, but I didn't have the book in hand till the end of 2015, and I didn't begin reading it till this week. It was 876 pages long, but I could hardly put it down. This is a book of Arthurian legend, told from the perspective of the women in Arthur's life. (For the record, in the fall of 2000, when I took an Arthurian legend course, we were not assigned to read this book. I wonder if my professor's being a Jesuit had anything to do with it.) The Mists of Avalon is set in a time when Christianity actually competed with local devotion to the Goddess. As we know historically, this devotion was driven into hiding by the Christian claims that the God of Christianity was the one and true God, and all other Gods were false idols, even demons. One of the more striking features of this book is that the fruitfulness and pleasure of sex are highly valued both in and out of marriage, rather than diminished or seen as second in holiness to celibacy. Imagine that: sex with mutual consent as good. It seems almost bizarre in this Puritanical country to think so, but to me and to many others, it makes perfect sense. It makes even more sense to me to regard sex with mutual consent as holy, as a religious act of devotion--not only because sex can be fruitful, but because sex is so intimate and joyful. Why not? Really, why not? Marion Zimmer Bradley ends the book with a note of hope, that all the Gods are one. It makes me wonder now, what would the gospels of Christianity look like if they were told from the perspective of women? And what would Roman Catholicism look like if women made up the majority of priests? What if, in all seriousness, the pope were a woman? And what would America look like if Pagan priestesses, devoted to the Goddess, were to capture the imaginations of the religious majority? I'm astonished that this book was written the year I was born--1982. Could such a poignant and fresh feminist perspective be thirty-four years old? After reading this book, it is no surprise to me that Pagan devotion is growing in this country and around the world. Devotion to the Feminine Divine, and an awareness of the Goddess within all of us, is long overdue, I think. I am happy that I can add this book to the growing shelves of books I have set aside for my daughters to read someday. May they be empowered, and may their imaginations be broadened. Needless to say, if you've never read this book, I highly recommend it. ![]() As one of the reviewers of my first novel, Memory Stands Still, notes, it is difficult to say much about the novel without revealing any spoilers. One of my difficulties in creating the description of the book was in not giving away too much, and I wonder if I gave away enough. In any case, I received a five-star review today that captures what the book is about without giving away anything too specific. I'd like to share it here: M. Kate Allen is a masterful storyteller. Her detailed descriptions of people and places allow the reader to enter into the story with fullness of senses and to nurture an empathy with Angela, the main character. Although the book begins with an amateur urban development contest, the title of the novel, "Memory Stands Still", suggests that memory is something that is cemented (like a building) and unchangeable. However, the novel unfolds with the reality that memories can be healed, forgiveness is possible, and mysteries should be unearthed. Memories do not stand still. As Angela's journey reveals, memories are transformed as we pass through dark nights of betrayal, violation, and disapproval to find love on the other side. This novel is an encouraging read for anyone who feels wronged and seeks healing. Allen would do well to continue unpacking "thealogy" and how the divine feminine speaks today. As I've written before, if you would like a signed copy for yourself, I'm offering it for $12 (33% off the list price). Just e-mail me about how to proceed.
I am grateful for the ongoing support and interest of my readers. Thank you. ♥ One of my goals in rewriting the psalter is to diminish the culture of vengeance that permeates it. In this spirit, I have rewritten Psalm 68.
Psalm 68 Let all Creatures be glad and rejoice before Goddess; let them also be merry and joyful. Sing to Goddess, sing praises to her Name; exalt her who rides upon the oceans; Thea is her Name, rejoice before her! Mother of orphans, defender of widows, Goddess in her holy habitation! Goddess gives the solitary a home and brings forth prisoners into freedom. You sent a gracious rain, O Goddess, upon your inheritance; you refreshed the land when it was weary. Your Creatures found their home in it; in your goodness, O Goddess, you have made provision for the poor. Though you lingered among the sheepfolds, you shall be like a dove whose wings are covered with silver, whose feathers are like green gold. You have gone up on high and led captivity captive; you have received gifts even from all your Creatures, that the Lady Goddess might dwell among them. Blessed be Thea day by day, the Goddess of our salvation, who bears our burdens. She is our Goddess, the Goddess of our salvation; Goddess is the Lady, by whom we escape death. They see your procession, O Goddess, your procession into the sanctuary, my Goddess and my Queen. The singers go before, musicians follow after, in the midst of maidens playing upon the hand-drums. Bless Goddess in the gathering; bless Thea, you that are of the fountain of Creation. Send forth your strength, O Goddess; establish, O Goddess, what you have wrought for us. Queens shall bring gifts to you, for your temple’s sake. Sing to Goddess, O queendoms of the earth; sing praises to Thea. She rides in the heavens, the ancient heavens; she sends forth her voice, her mighty voice. Ascribe power to Goddess; her majesty is through Creation; her strength is in the skies and the earth. How wonderful is Goddess in her holy places! the Goddess of Creation giving strength and power to her Creatures! Blessed be Goddess! ![]() I have smudged my daughters with ash in years past, and this year was no different. But this year, I helped my five-year-old make her first Lenten sacrifice: she's giving up playing games on her parents' tablets. Last year I remember reflecting on the habit of giving things up for Lent, and I remember being chagrined at the idea that people were giving something up for Jesus' sake. As a Thean, I no longer pray to Jesus, but to Thea, mother of all creation. And my Lenten sacrifice is not for her sake, but for mine: that my heart, however hardened it may have become over the last year, may be softened once again. I want to teach my daughter about this softening of heart, because I think it matters. It matters that we learn at some point that we shouldn't always get what we want. It matters that we should be able to willingly give up something that we do want. The emptying of self and ego's desire is one of the great lessons of Lent. If ever there is a time for letting go of unnecessary or unhealthy attachments, Lent is it. Lent is a reminder that our superficial desires can get in the way of what we most deeply desire--in my case, loving union with Thea and her sacred body, Creation. For my older daughter, learning the idea of selflessness is just the first step. As she gets older, I trust she'll learn to make more meaningful sacrifices--sacrifices that go beyond her. I'm giving up chocolate that isn't certified Fair Trade for Lent because I was reminded recently of the child slave labor that is behind much of the world's cocoa production. Eating Snickers bars, as much as I love to do so, doesn't help those enslaved children--it is very likely what helps keeps them enslaved. It's easy for me to overlook this because their world is so very far away from me, but those children are my own sisters and brothers, my own nieces and nephews, and my heart belongs to them as much as it belongs to me. When I apply ash to my daughters' foreheads, I say, "Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return." This is not just a statement of their mortality--it is a reminder that they are of the earth, of the universe, and they always will be. They are of this creation, just like those enslaved children in Africa, and they belong to it, just as all the people of this world belong to each other. I want my daughters to learn to care not only for themselves, but for those around them, especially those who are in any way oppressed. I want them to learn to lift up others by the way they live their lives, and to be willing to change their lives when they realize that they are complicit in the oppression of others. I also want them to learn to trust in those people who are willing to look deeply at their own hearts and transform them. Those with Lenten hearts, whatever their religious background, are our hope for the creation's future. |
Rev. M. Kate AllenThean. House church priest. Published author. Mother and wife. Vocal feminist. Faith-filled dissenter in the face of the status quo. Archives
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