is there holy bible fanfiction
jesus fucking christ
looks more like jesus fucking noah
i’m going to hell for laughing
omg the commentary
It all makes sense now. Gay marriage and marijuana are being legalized at the same time.
Leviticus 20:13 says if a man lays with another man, he should be stoned.
We were just misinterpreting it.
And God said unto Abraham, “Abraham.”
And Abraham replied, “What.”
God said to John, “Come forth and receive eternal life.” But John came fifth and won a toaster.
And Judas approached the rabbis and Pharisees saying, “The one whom I kiss is the one you seek.”
To which they responded, “Gay.”
And thus, god made Eve. And she was bammin’ slammin’ bootylicious.
see you all in hell
okay this is going to be painful honest
i’m still trying to work through this, and it’s twisted in so much …stuff, but i might as well articulate it
at this point, i really don’t care about the faith-based stuff re: christianity/religion as a whole
to be extremely frank, i don’t really care about jesus. never have. my relationship and all my emotions have always been with god and the holy spirit, not really with jesus. i can’t really explain how that’s happened, but that’s how it is. and there was a point in my life where i was like shit i love god more than i love jesus… it must be because i don’t know him enough so i should learn more about him! but that didn’t really work out, and honestly, i think a lot of it is because jesus is tied up with forgiveness and redemption, and beside the whole original sin shit, i’ve never really needed a lot of either. yeah, i’ve fucked up, but for the majority of my life, i’d never fucked up or hurt anyone (to my knowledge) where i felt i really needed that. hahaaaa, what a terrible thing to say, but i do think that’s tied up in my feelings wrt jesus
he takes our shame away… but the shame i felt and experienced wasn’t the shame that was being preached about, so there was always this disconnect about the goodness of jesus and why i ~needed~ him so much (i got the idea, i couldn’t muster up the feelings to back it up though)
i’m rarely in the mood to talk about this shit, so i might as well see what i can get out of it
first things first, if you didn’t grow up religious, then you don’t really know what it’s like. not that any of my followers (at least the ones i interact with) are of this mindset anyway, but just putting that out there.
'cause literally every person with whom i've ever talked religion with who didn't grow up religious—and by religious, i mean, in general contact with it, in varying degrees—had no working understanding of religion or how religion and culture intersect.
i think about the time a friend of mine described how good he felt at a rave. he told me about the warmth and generosity of everyone there. strangers coming up and offering what they had, people helping each other out, altruism. this great unified feeling of peace and goodness and he was telling me this and i was like YOU ARE DESCRIBING WHAT CHURCH CAN BE LIKE!!!
'cause when church is good, it's GOOD
i don’t use that lightly
it’s powerful shit, especially if it’s the only source of that type of emotion
it’s a lot of things
so skip if necessary
i left my home church about a yr and a half ago. the catalyst was me finally getting my own car, so i wouldn’t have to rely on other ppl for rides, and i could finally go out and check out churches for myself.
i did, for a while—check out churches. none really fit. the closest one i found was not nearly close enough to what i had in mind. even though i knew there was no perfect church, i still wanted to find something LIKE it. i was tired of settling; that’s what church life had become for me, so i wanted something different for once. i wanted somewhere i could grow and learn and find like-minded ppl, but i haven’t been going out to church for about half a yr now, and i don’t feel anything lesser for it.
ironically enough, i’m learning more about christianity and theology and history and etc. on my own anyway, and if i do miss something, i guess it’s being able to sing worship songs with the rest of the congregation and feeling a moment of peace.
i feel that it’s good i’m not attending church at the moment. i don’t want to give the impression that me not attending church is somehow better than attending regularly in any objective measurable sense; i’m just at a different stage of my life. i’m going through different things, and this is where i need to be.
church life is really toxic. sure, i learned a lot of things there—it’s another social site. was it worth it? i shouldn’t ask that question since i can’t change anything by this point, and again, you can’t neatly divide such things into “good”/”bad”. it’s absurd
if anything, i think this time—of not being a part of a church—needs to be used to process all the time i WAS part of a church. even though i don’t talk about religion or christianity or church life with most, whenever i find the chance to do so with fellow religious (ex or not) ppl esp christians, it’s like i can’t stop airing out all this shit that’s been festering inside of me. i don’t have all the words or tools to articulate everything yet, but it’s begun
it’s been a long time coming, that’s for sure
Need to write a 6 page paper for a friend. Or helping as we call it.
something about the destruction intrigues me
i feel less afraid
my favourite is ecclesiastes. great book. changed my life. I stopped being a christian after I read it.
The problem with this is that there are Korean theologians like Andrew Sung Park who do say “we need han in Christianity.” In the post I made, the definition of han I give is what he gave. I want to take seriously the works of Korean theologians like him and take seriously the idea that was at the core of his work, which is that Christianity needs a term like han to describe sin from the perspective of victims. Now the final sentence I think is unfair, but I do agree my writing was from a first world white perspective and the use of han was removed from the Korean experience. It was not a good post and that is part of why that is.
At the same time I agree with you that it is yours, that the history of Korean experience makes it yours. Probably even Korean American history would make it yours, though I’ll leave that up to you to decide. The problem I’m navigating, if you’ll give me the benefit of the doubt that I take your challenge of appropriation seriously, is that I want to respect your desire to keep han Korean only, and at best write about it in that way as a scholar of religion, but at the same time I wish to take seriously the efforts of theologians like Andrew Sung park who wish to make it “mainstream” Christian. Since he “sanitized” in a sense the concept of han so that it was ready to be plucked from Korean thought and placed in Christianity, should I find some other word to describe the sanitized concept? Thus taking seriously his accusations about Christianity and the need to focus on victims, while at the same time respecting your (probably common) wish to see han remain your own?
I apologize, you are not the representative of Koreans and I should not be treating you as such, but since you have an opposing view I thought you might have an opinion on how I can respect and use the contributions of Korean theologians while also respecting Korean cultural autonomy.
the basic problem i have with “sanitizing” 한 for the purposes of applying it to, i’m assuming, christianity as practiced by non-krns is that sanitization inherently requires a stripping of context. for anything to be made universal or ugh palatable, a certain amount of whitewashing (both literal and figurative) is typically involved. 한 is unique to korea—to the point where it’s difficult to translate or even define—meaning there have been special circumstances surrounding its creation. it is damn difficult for non-krn people to understand 한 as it’s something you have to experience firsthand. lbr if there is a situation where i would be open to non-krn usage of 한, it’d be with other poc who also share a history of imperialism, colonialism, racism, etc. the denial of humanity and the emotions entrenched in it permeate 한 and yes we’re all sinners yes we all bleed red yes we are all human SO WHAT. realizing the humanity of others is not the same as realizing or revealing how oppression is played out on a myriad of axes. i mean look at well colorblind racism is working (…in furthering white supremacy). divorcing 한 from its contextual life blood dilutes it and erases the individual struggles that make up 한. in your post you apply 한 to yourself, a white queer person, and to qtpoc equally, describing the 한 that is felt by the qtpoc as something they must resolve on your terms, a view i find a touch too close to victim-blaming.
When you see your people being murdered in the street and sent to jail when they defend themselves, you boil with anger and seek empowerment. It is not so different from the beginnings of black power as a chant. Like Martin Luther King, however, I must object to the phrase. Han cannot be resolved by turning to bitterness and anger. Such a path only creates more han, not the resolution of han. Prayer services, vigils, and remembrances of victims is one way to move towards resolution. Actively opposing cissexism is a positive way to move forward.
if you have not experienced the extreme racial oppression of black ppl like mlkj, you are not in a position to condemn violence as a response especially when said violence is a means of SURVIVAL (pls see stokely carmichael on passive boycotts and nonviolence)
Queer people experience han in many different and connected ways. By feeling fear, shame, humiliation, and degradation they accumulate han. There is only so much they can withstand before they feel the need to lash out at others. Admittedly, this does not happen too often. However, as Dan Savage’s attack on the black community shows, there are those within this community who are capable of lashing out at others when they are hurt, and not always the correct targets.
savage is a racist piece of shit because he’s a racist piece of shit. it’s not because he’s gay and it’s certainly not because of the shit he’s gone through due to his sexuality, it’s because he gleefully exercises his white supremacy-given racial privilege and no number of overlapping marginalizations will ever excuse that
in short: intersectionality
anyway, i do appreciate your apologies and your most recent post about 한
is it appropriation for me to take seriously han in my theology? is it appropriate to read korean theologians talking about how christianity can be better served through the addition of this concept and talking about it and then actually try to take it seriously and do so in my theology? sure, when i put it like that it sounds right. taking seriously korean contributions to theology and trying to make them part of my own theology, rather than saying “this is good but it’s for koreans.” but then, what about the post-colonial aspects? i suspect this is going to be something i have to have tension with, but it’s not bad tension. trying to gauge what’s appropriate and not appropriate, what to talk about and not to talk about, is very important when you’re doing theology of religions and liberation theology.
what does it mean for a white person to study asian religions? can it be done as appreciation? is it appropriate for me to even be able to teach about such religions instead of asian people? the tension a lot of asian theologians, especially asian americans, is the aspect of racial identity and religious identity. for everything i read by dr cone, dr park, dr kyung, fr pieris, etc, i cannot talk about that. it’s not part of my experience, and while i can MAYBE try to take it into account for my greater work, it simply is not a core aspect of my theology. my theology is born from my experiences as a white, first world, genderqueer, androphile firmly in the middle class. i simply cannot speak about race, the two-thirds world, or poverty the way people of color, those in the third world, and those who have experienced poverty can. and even my queer experiences are limited by this lens. but this limitation cannot be a reason for me to not try to bridge gaps. i am christian, but i was not always christian. my family was not always christian, white, and in the middle class. that is not enough for me to talk about these issues as though they are mine, but they are enough for me to take them seriously. questions that i have seen raised, answers i have read, these lead to self-reflection and analysis. who i am now is completely different in a lot of ways from who i was three months ago, six months ago, a year ago, two years, four years, etc. constantly trying to expand my horizons, redefine who i am, etc etc. i’m still bound by my experiences, but that doesn’t mean i can’t try to write what i can.
trying to learn how other people see the world, what their perspectives say about how i see the world, and the ways in which greater harmony can be brought. trying to create a synthesis called “theology” that speaks about who God is by who we are. the body of Christ is the “little ones” of history who are made nonpersons by society, who suffer han. rectifying injustice and promoting not just social unity, but healing the wounds caused by injustice, is the aim of most (if not all) religions. perhaps not as the core goal, but certainly as a goal that stems from spiritual practice. my work is grounded in an earnest desire to do right by my fellow beings, seeing in all of us God’s reflection. bringing about social harmony, redressing wrongs, healing the oppressed, and lifting the yoke of oppression is part of bringing about God’s kingdom. it’s easy to feel paralyzed by a desire to not promote that oppression, to not hurt others, and to not promote disunity, but you can’t do anything if you’re too afraid to start. i’ll get things wrong. everyone does. pieris doesn’t talk about queerness. cone doesn’t talk too much about women or queer black folks. kyung’s written section on lesbians in her book leaves much to be desired. i haven’t finished park’s book yet, but the “doesn’t talk about queerness” doesn’t seem too unlikely for him. i can mess up, learn from it, and do better next time.
still worried about being a white christian who wants to study asian religions in order to do theology of religions, though
basic ID stuff first - i’m a queer krn-us am christian who is invested in liberation theology and anti-oppression in general. like you addressed, the (post-)colonial history and consequences are FUNDAMENTAL to 한 (han); the way i primarily experience/see it manifested (within the last 60 yrs) is through us am imperialist capitalist white supremacy.
i do see this as appropriation because i have no choice in dealing with 한—in its “original” understanding. i am obviously okay with krns (theologians or not) using it however they see fit since they too must wade through the acres and acres of historical and emotional bog. though i am not as familiar with minjung theology as you are (sigh) and cannot say how krn christian theologians have interpreted and used it or whether they’ve given “permission” or what not to non-krns to utilize the term, i am more familiar with krn history. a reason 한 is so difficult to define is because it’s so intricately tied up with krn history—a range of emotions are felt as there are a range of CULTURE-SPECIFIC EXPERIENCES behind them. i do not have the choice/luxury/privilege to label other things by this word. THIS—what i’m living right now, my life, my cultural and historical heritage—IS 한.
regarding your other post where you use 한 to navigate your own experiences and connect it to the systematic oppression of others - YOU CANNOT SUBSTITUTE ONE OPPRESSION FOR ANOTHER. or believe that your contemplation about your various privileges and potential cultural appropriation is somehow enough. you being queer and third-gender does not negate the fact that you have not and cannot experience racism or white imperialism and/or colonialism. 한 is not a word nor simply a term that is yours to use once you feel you have a good and even relatable grasp on it. 한 is more than a word or past history or definition. there is experience behind it. people have LIVED it. i PRESENT TENSE live it. yes this is a selfish thing. this is mine. this is something i will cleave to my chest. 한 is intensely personal and i can’t separate it (and refuse to) from the context. if i must live with it, then it will be wholly mine.
and “han of being queer”? puhlease because apparently queer krns do not exist
I have nothing insightful to add, but I will say: When the life, safety, food and clothing and shelter, or very basic human dignity of not only *oneself* but one’s *community* are under threat by the dominant culture, personal spiritual salvation may not be one’s primary concern. It’s in these conditions that political change becomes an inextricable part of life. Before one works on one’s personal relationship with God it is necessary to see oneself as a child of God, and that is kind of difficult when the wider society is constantly denying you that in ways big and small. Gutierrez put it more succinctly: “I desire that the hunger for God may remain, that the hunger for bread may be satisfied…Hunger for God, yes; hunger for bread, no.” Secondly, on a more personal note: liberation theology is wider than Catholicism and maybe even—but I’m parroting “moving beyond the Church, even beyond Jesus”, as someone said in a rather different context. I am a Jew, an atheistic/humanistic kind of Jew, and the Jewish tradition has never really been very big on sin or individual salvation or resurrection. What is central is seeking justice and collective liberation (the only kind, yeah?) in the *olam ha-zeh*, this world. The “materialistic” slant of liberation theology may put off some Catholics, but from a Jewish perspective it is perfectly natural and not particularly areligious. I am also a socialist in the good old Canadian tradition, so, you know, hella biased.
The problem isn’t redistribution of wealth or that they’re too liberal economically. The Church does in fact call for redistribution of wealth. Caritas in Veritate addresses this, as do several other Church documents.
Liberation theology’s problem is that it, due to its Marxist roots, tends to have a materialist anthropology that is inconsistent with Christian beliefs and as a result tends to place salvation within this life—ie, Jesus came to save us from oppressors, not from sin/death.
As far as I know it’s not really especially connected to Jesuits. Gustavo Gutierrez is a Dominican, Oscar Romero was diocesan, etc.
Ratzinger addressed liberation theology here.
Faced with the urgency of certain problems, some are tempted to emphasize, unilaterally, the liberation from servitude of an earthly and temporal kind. They do so in such a way that they seem to put liberation from sin in second place, and so fail to give it the primary importance it is due. Thus, their very presentation of the problems is confused and ambiguous. Others, in an effort to learn more precisely what are the causes of the slavery which they want to end, make use of different concepts without sufficient critical caution. It is difficult, and perhaps impossible, to purify these borrowed concepts of an ideological inspiration which is compatible with Christian faith and the ethical requirements which flow from it.
Jon Sobrino and Ignacio Elacuria were Jesuits, the latter was one of the major thinkers of the method behind liberation theology as well as one of the Jesuit martyrs in El Salvador.
The problem with Ratzinger’s approach is that he doesn’t treat the systemic injustice within society as sin; by saying that unjust social structures come first and sin comes second he himself profoundly misunderstands the argument of liberation theologians. There is no justice first, salvation second; in liberation theology, the search for a living world free from systemic oppression is identified with the Kingdom of God that Jesus speaks of. Salvation and liberation are not identical, per se, but they are each necessary. You cannot have salvation without liberation, and liberation leads to salvation.
Also to speak of liberation theology as being a Marxist ideology misunderstands the place of Marxism in Latin American society at the time of liberation theology’s birth. Many intellectuals, both Christian and non-Christian, used Marxist principles to understand the place they were in. For the liberation theologians like Sobrino, Boff, Guteirrez, etc Marxism presented tools to look at the society they lived in and understand the ways in which there were existing class conflicts.
In addition liberation theology is not limited to the Latin American situation, but is a truly global theology which seeks to understand issues of social justice and oppression. It cannot even be said that its origin is in Latin America, because black American theologians were using liberation as a theme around the same time without any real communication between the two cultures. Liberation theology is a method of doing theology that takes seriously Jesus’ proclamation that “What you do for the least of these, you do for me.” In Latin America in the 1960s, this was considered to be the poor and indigenous who were persecuted by unjust governments and US backed death squads. As time went on, this expanded to specifically women’s issues, as women’s voices became more included in liberation theology’s discussions and was no longer considered to be side issues. The founder of mujerista theology, which is a womanist method of doing liberation theology, recently died actually and her role in bringing women’s issues to the mainstream of liberation theology can’t be underestimated.
In America today there are liberation theologies of the disabled, of those who are queer, black, Asian, Latin@, womanist theologies, feminist theologies, etc etc. It is linked in some places to Marxism, but it has never been married to Marx’s views of political reality and in most cases has since surpassed Marxist view of social conflict. Issues of race, class, gender, orientation, disability, etc are at the forefront while Marx is considered only if and when he is relevant.