Living Theology: A reflection on Poetry

 For class I had to do a close read on a poem and how it "does" theology - then I had to present a second poem and compare how the two "do" theology similarly or differently. 

For the first poem I chose The Summer Day by Mary Oliver.  In the first few lines its clear to see the narrator of the poem is already super reflective and notices the smaller details in life. She is brought to a point of intersection just from admiring the smallest of creatures: a grasshopper. The poem is instantly theological as she ponders who made the world, such as the tiny grasshopper before her. However I think the meat and potatoes comes from the second half - when the grasshopper flies away and suddenly the narrator reflects on prayer. To me this made me think how most prayers go out of us and to the being in which we pray, flying away the way the grasshopper does from the narrators hand. But then they present HOW they pray:

"I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down/ into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,/how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields, /which is what I have been doing all day./Tell me, what else should I have done?"

This makes me think to Van Engen's article where he said "Theology, the study of God and God’s relationship with all things, can be abstracted into principles, but ideally its purpose is to influence life. Theology exists to be lived." Its the last line, "theology exists to be lived" that really resonates with me and I think is why this poem really resonates with me. 

Living theology, prayer as what we do in life and how we live our lives, and connecting to God within us and all around us is the connection I bring to my next poem. I stumbled upon this poet on Instagram and he is a theological poet. I am so enraptured by his poetry that after reading a handful of them I pre-ordered his book with zero hesitation and I think all people should experience his poetry at least once. Some key things to note: he has been homeless for a time, is married with kids, and during all the ups and downs of his life he found God through love. He sees God through the connecting of souls (primarily through sex) and so he calls his poetry "sacred smut x spicy scripture". But it is truly a LIVING theology. 

I know this is a long poem but I beg of you, bear with me and read it all. It really sets the tone for all of his work and it I worth it. If you want to skip it.... the final stanza is where the connection between the two hits home: "maybe physiology has always been prayer".

poet: Christopher Sexton

IG: christhecocreator

Poem: god came when I did. and whispered, finally

-----------------------------------

my god wears no name, 

only nerve endings and nectar, 

my god is a man. 

my god is a woman. 

my god is neither and both. 

my god is a mystical oracle 

whispering through dead things. 

my god is the earth's orgasm, 

when lightning and soil kiss. 

my god is what happens

when polarity dances

instead of debates. 

my god is in the collapse. 

in the climax. 

in the stillness after. 

this is not about religion. 

this is about relationship.

the relationship between

rain and roots. 

sky and womb. 

dopamine and devotion. 

testosterone and tenderness. 

this is about remembering 

that the soul is sexual, 

the erotic is spiritual, 

and that the second coming

is not a prophecy.

It's a practice. 

divine union isn't some 

esoteric metaphor. 

it's science. 

it's sacred geometry

and sacred sex

and sacred nervous systems

waking up from shame.  

this is not new age fluff. 

this is ecology. 

this is physiology. 

this is psychology

finally realizing 

what the mystics always knew:

to meet someone with all of you

requires that you've first

sat with all of you. 

I wear my mala beads

to anchor me in this.

108 beads. 

1 is the masculine. 

action, direction, the seed.

the proton charge of the cosmos,

born to pursue and penetrate truth.

0 is the feminine. 

current, intuition, the egg. 

the electron dance of creation, 

chaos, and curve. 

and 8 is the ouroboros.

the infinite spiral

where they fuck 

and become forever. 

together they make life.

together they are life. 

and every time I touch them, 

I'm reminded:

the point is not transcendence.

the point is trust. 

maybe resurrection 

isn't just about rising from the dead. 

maybe its about rising

into the living. 

maybe heaven 

is just the feeling in her hips

when she finally exhales into your hands

without wondering if she's safe. 

maybe salvation doesn't come 

from a cross or a creed. 

maybe it just comes 

when we stop using love as a leash. 

maybe the second coming 

is not coming back. 

maybe it's coming deeper. 

into the mess. 

into the moment. 

into the breath. 

maybe physiology

has always been prayer. 

Better to be alone than Lonely.

 Some thoughts that always arise whenever I start dating and trying to meet people - 

• I find fault with every single person who takes an interest in me. If they show too much interest too soon, I am almost disgusted. 
• I think I know what I want but I don't think it actually exists. If I meet someone and they don't immediately fit this idea, I make it almost impossible for them to even try. 
• I'm scared I'll end up alone but its better than being committed to the wrong person. I don't know how to keep the faith that my person is actually out there and the more open I try to be the worse it gets. 
• Now that I love myself, I don't know how to risk loving someone else. 
• I'm worried that I am the problem. I don't want to be chased but I refuse to chase. I'm just...stationary. Like a statue. I feel like i'm cold and unattached, unfeeling, like stone. 
• I am outwardly nice and internally cold. I'm social enough to go out and have good dates but I have no actual interest or any semblance of a connection to these poor guys who are sincere. 
• I actually sort of pity anyone who has legitimate interest in me. 
• I am fine when I focus on myself. I thrive when I am single... As soon as I think about adding someone else to my life, my peace falls apart... but I am so closed off when I focus on myself. What if I miss him? What If I'm so closed off that I don't let him in? What if I don't even let him approach me?

After talking with my therapist there is a frustration between my self preservation, guilt at not being able to to feel a spark (which I need to let go of, because just because someone is a good person or option doesn't mean they are right for you), and a deep desire to feel a deep connection. I have so much love to give but I am so careful about who i give that love to. 

Its better to be alone than with someone who makes me feel lonely. 

I need to give up dating. Me and dating go together like oil and water. I will have to meet my person organically in order for me to even give him a chance. 

I went on a date, immediately wrote off the guy it was with. Minimal small talk afterward as I tried to find an excuse to stop talking to him.... only to run into him at the no kings rally and have a really good time with him. (Let's call him Willy since he lives in the Willy st neighborhood). We slept together (look i'm lonely alright and he made me feel comfortable) and I expected it to be sort of done after that. But he surprised me and we ended up having some deep discussions afterward. 

Not it is following what I expected and turned into a more so physical only type dynamic and I'm certain its just a fun fling. but he surprised me with his depth. 

Maybe I really do need to slow down when I meet people and discover the things under the surface. 

However, I cannot allow a fling to last more than 3 months if even that long. 

He serves as a good reminder that 

1) I am allowed to just have fun and enjoy the moment

2) I deserve to be treated like a treasure

3) Somethings that were "wants", are actually "needs" - ambition, playfulness, and financial security. 

As soon as I realized he was not my person, he was yet another lesson/example from Lucifer, I relaxed. I do need to be careful that he doesn't get too attached to me, but other than that. It's fine. 

I have three people I am sort of casually "dating"

- "Willy" - has a LOT of characteristics I am looking for. No ambition, no financial security, no playfulness that I've seen so far.  Sagittarius says yes, Capricorn says no. 

- "Fly boy": has the playfulness but lacks the sort of commanding presence I crave in a partner. We are friends, but there is very clear interest on his part and we dabble in flirting. If he were to make a move I would be possibly open to friends with benefits, but that's the most I can see. 

- "Academic" - hard to read and get a vibe on. Slightly socially awkward and a massive introvert. Has the financial security and while is not spiritually inclined would absolutely listen to me yap about it. I really like the way he looks at me. Its either we sit and have a conversation or we do an activity, not one to do both. Encourages me to be silly but doesn't really have whimsy in himself. Capricorn says yes, Sagittarius says no. 

Willing to see where things go and not quite ready to cut the chord on any of them just yet. 

Writing prompts: Mallory - The Duck

 The Dawn settled the duck into its nest. We could only see it through the 1's and 0's of the digital camera... or rather she could see it. I huffed out another puff of steam over my chilled fingers as I glanced wearily over  to the small brunette woman fully laying on her stomach in the grass. She was too cute to glare at, but it was everything I could do not to do so after she woke me up before the ass crack of dawn after hearing the call of a damn bird. My glance finally morphed into a hard stare of disbelief as she shushed me, her hand motioning for me to crouch even lower onto the ground. 

The sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon, the chill of the night lingered over everything in a blanket of fog that I wished would dissipate so I could at least see the reason for my torment. My nose and cheeks were red and I just knew I looked like some kind of Raggedy Anne doll in my holey pajamas and curly hair tangled over my head. I would have snapped something witty at her, but the moment I turned my eyes away from my ice blocks that were once hands, my voice caught in my throat. She was looking up at me, her eyes shining in an almost childlike glee. 

Suddenly a large camera was shoved into my face as she jumped up, damn near startling the duck as much as she had me. I turned the body of the camera to face me, looked at the screen, and froze. 

It was beautiful. 

The creeping dawn had somehow cast a pink and lavender hue over the mist that cascaded through the tall grasses consuming almost the entire frame. The grass in question stood proudly around the nest, where I noticed the ever so slight bulge through the soft down feathers where an egg laid, surrounded by safety and warmth. The duck looked bleak and boring with my eyes, but somehow through hers she was able to summon an array of warm khaki, deep caramel, and hues of russet on the wings of perhaps the plainest bird in existence. 

The female Mallard called out a warning as a radiant voice broke my trance from the image. 

"See! I told you she'd be beautiful!" Puffs of steam crossed the short distance between us as she gazed up at me. Her brown eyes were alight with excitement, her nose and ears just as pink as mine if not more so; her ponytail offering no shelter from the cold morning. My eyes trailed over her as I saw her in the grass, as beautiful as a damn duck apparently could be. The cotton candy fog surrounding her and a slow golden light rising from behind, turning her into some sort of swamp faerie glowing before my eyes. What was it like, to see the world in such a way? 

I bent down to ask her that very question, but before the words could escape me she bounced and captured my lips with hers. They were hard, practically frozen, but I couldn't care. I wrapped her up in my arms, suddenly aware that in my frustration of my own discomfort I'd ignored the fact that she must have been even colder than me, wearing nothing but silk pajama which were now soaked from the dew she'd nested in. Reluctantly I broke the kiss, concern winning out over temptation. 

"Come one little bird, lets get some coffee going. I'm freezing my nuts off." With a wink, I pulled her into me as we turned towards camp. I noted the goosebumps and regretted not bringing a blanket - which I would have if she hadn't torn out of the tent like a bat out of hell. 

In a matter of time a fire was lit, a pot of coffee perfumed the air, and I was satisfying warm. I almost laughed as she came out of the tent wearing one of my hoodies - the one that was large even for me - and happily waddled over to me. With a sheepish grin she slowly took the mug out of my hands and graced me with a smile. I was once again off kilter - how could such a simple creature be so radiant? Oblivious to my awe, she made a happy noise as she slipped my coffee again, and took her place on the opposite end of the fire. 

"Mallory?" I asked, my voice almost dreamlike. 

"Yes?" she asked, her narrow face tilting to the side. 

"Marry me." I breathed, hardly aware I had actually said the words out loud. She blinked in shock for a moment and I suddenly realized what I had just done. 

"Shi-" I cursed, but she stood suddenly and startled me by practically shouting. 

"Okay!" 

"Okay?"

"Okay!" she chirped again, more confidently. Nodding her head enthusiastically and breathing hard, as if she had just run a marathon. 

"Okay." I said, my voice barely contained my laughter and joy. She gave me but a moment before her tiny frame barreled into me, throwing me on my ass. Her shrieks of laughter were contagious as she climbed on top of me and began pelting my face with quick kisses. 

"Okay." we breathed, embracing as the sun finally settled above the horizon. 

Final Project Proposal (work in progress)

 Final paper/project: this is an opportunity for students to draw on the readings, lectures, class conversations, and previous assignments to articulate their own informed understanding of the contemporary use of the arts as a means of theological or religious expression and reflection. Students will complete ONE of the following and present it to the class at the end of the term. 

a) The creation of a work of art or popular culture, such as a painting, dance, poem, sculpture, graphic novel, etc. that speaks to an aspect of your religious practice. This will be accompanied by a researched, footnoted artist’s statement of approximately 5 pages that describes your ideas and contextualizes them.  

Proposal for final paper/project: The proposal will demonstrate student preparedness for the final paper/project. It will consist of a paragraph description of the proposed project (about 250 words), as well as a close reading (300-500 words) of a relevant image/object/artwork. It will also include an annotated bibliography of at least 5 academic sources. It will be graded on a pass/fail basis and the professor reserves the right to ask the student to revise and resubmit the proposal.

The "Close Read" will be of a Tarot Card. I'll probably choose the devil because the primary thing about it is that the people who are chained...are holding the chain. Not the Devil. 

****AFFECT? --> the healing aspects... find it in the previous lecture to see the right word. 

Annotated Bibliography to support the 5 page paper - 

•  Pollack-Pelzner, Daniel. “Shakespeare Burlesque and the Performing Self.” Victorian Studies 54, no. 3 (2012): 401–9. https://doi.org/10.2979/victorianstudies.54.3.401.
• More on burlesque as a personal performance for self.
• https://www.jstor.org/stable/10.2979/victorianstudies.54.3.401?read-now=1&seq=1#page_scan_tab_contents
• Buckland, Theresa Jill. “Dance, Authenticity and Cultural Memory: The Politics of Embodiment.” Yearbook for Traditional Music 33 (2001): 1–16. https://doi.org/10.2307/1519626
• Dance in conversation with other areas of study
• https://www.jstor.org/stable/1519626?read-now=1&seq=1#page_scan_tab_contents
• Gaskill, Malcolm. 2010. Witchcraft : A Very Short Introduction. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Accessed April 26, 2025. ProQuest Ebook Central.
• Book on Witcraft.. honestly i think i could get some really good quotes from this. 
• https://ebookcentral-proquest-com.theoref.idm.oclc.org/lib/dtl/reader.action?docID=684591&ppg=1'
• Benussi, Matteo. (2019) 2023. “Magic”. In The Open Encyclopedia of Anthropology, edited by Felix Stein. Facsimile of the first edition in The Cambridge Encyclopedia of Anthropology. Online: http://doi.org/10.29164/19magic
•  https://www.anthroencyclopedia.com/entry/magic
• https://anthroholic.com/forms-of-magic?srsltid=AfmBOoplHEziSc_FdogfJxn52KE_9Zwf34G3Fc-WLAVU1MwbNCwnFrDE
• Dovell, Denise. “Dancing toward My Wolf: A Journey of Healing through Dance-Making.” Frontiers: A Journal of Women Studies 20, no. 2 (1999): 43–59. https://doi.org/10.2307/3347011. 
• https://www.jstor.org/stable/3347011?read-now=1&seq=1#page_scan_tab_contents
• Healing through dance!! 
• Page 2 liminal spaces, pg 5 whats healing about dance, pg 10 shamanic work, 
• This is an actual example of a woman doing shadow work healing generational trauma through dance. 
• Koch, Anne. “Alternative Healing as Magical Self-Care in Alternative Modernity.” Numen 62, no. 4 (2015): 431–59. http://www.jstor.org/stable/24644878.
• Magic as self care
• https://www.jstor.org/stable/24644878?read-now=1&seq=1#page_scan_tab_contents
• Page 6 spirituality as a form of psychological healing, pg 7 ritual theory
• Dale, J. Alexander, Janyce Hyatt, and Jeff Hollerman. “The Neuroscience of Dance and the Dance of Neuroscience: Defining a Path of Inquiry.” Journal of Aesthetic Education 41, no. 3 (2007): 89–110. http://www.jstor.org/stable/25160240.
• The science part of processing emotions through creative process
• Link to the PDF (took some hunting): https://tinyurl.com/y8w3v72p
• Wright, Barbara S. “Dance Is the Cure: The Arts as Metaphor for Healing in Kelantanese Malay Spirit Exorcisms.” Dance Research Journal 12, no. 2 (1980): 3–10. https://doi.org/10.2307/1478508
• This article goes into how theatrical dances can be a form of exorcism - THIS is very close to how dance can be shadow work!! 
• https://www.jstor.org/stable/1478508?read-now=1&seq=1#page_scan_tab_contents
•  Baumholser, Erin. “It’s Laid Out in the Cards: How Meaning and Identity Are Constructed through Tarot Reading.” Dissertation, ResearchGate, 2016. 10.13140/RG.2.1.2639.7046.
• https://www.researchgate.net/publication/303297812_It's_Laid_Out_in_the_Cards_How_Meaning_and_Identity_are_Constructed_through_Tarot_Reading
• This dissertation draws on several articles that I contemplated for this very topic. I wanted to have at least one source on the history and uses of tarot that also explored its connection to self. The premise of this dissertation encompasses the purpose of my art piece. I am recreating a moment where my identity was in transition from victim to survivor. I completed this transformation through shadow work, culminating through ritual dance in the form of neo-burlesque. Tarot cards are how I chose to give a visual representation of what was occuring in my mind as I completed this ritual. This is the only source I could find that adequately linked tarot and identity for the sake of Artist's Statement.