In her seminal work Indecent Theology<\/em><\/a>, Marcella Althaus-Reid relates a fact about prominent theologian Paul Tillich, first shared by his wife Hannah in her memoir From Time to Time<\/em><\/span>1<\/sup><\/a><\/span>\u2014namely, that he had an enduring attraction to sadomasochism, and kept a collection of pornographic photos of young women being whipped as they were tied to crosses. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Despite the role that BDSM played in his life, Tillich never explored kink in his theological works\u2014an omission which Athaus-Reid sees as a great loss. She writes:<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhat is to be condemned and regretted is not that Tillich was a sadomasochist, but the fact that he did not \u2018find the courage to be\u2019 out of the closet of his sexuality; a sadomasochist theologian, for instance, reflecting on an issue of importance in his life as in the life of others. […] [Systematic theologians] keep pretending […] that the chaotic nature of sexuality does not belong to the sphere of interest of theology\u2014except to condemn it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Here, and throughout her work, Althaus-Reid contends that the purpose of theology is to explore \u201cissue[s] of importance\u201d in the lives of real people, rather than flee into metaphysical abstraction\u2014to articulate \u201cGod talk\u201d that can be understood and used by people like the poor women, cross-dressing prostitutes, and other outsiders she knew from her youth in Buenos Aires. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Theology, in other words, ought to engage with \u201cthe chaotic nature of sexuality,\u201d rather than simply run from it in terror; to deal with the material world, where all kinds of people are doing kinky things all the time, often for very meaningful reasons.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Rather than condemning such \u201cper-versions\u201d from a constructed sexual norm, Althaus-Reid argues that the theologian\u2019s job is to face them directly, along with the many other dimensions of human experience that have been excluded from an artificial understanding of the \u201cnatural\u201d\u2014and explore the ways in which a fully incarnate, immanent God makes himself uniquely present in them. Moreover, those theologians with a particular connection to kink, such as Paul Tillich, are in some sense duty-bound to speak about it, and integrate it into a broader, fuller understanding of what it means to be a Christian in this world. <\/p>\n\n\n\n In other words, if I think that I met God at a BDSM convention, at a modest hotel not far outside Chicago, then I ought to come clean about it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n To give Tillich (and myself) some credit, this stuff is difficult to talk about. As Althaus-Reid herself points out, kink hasn\u2019t historically been a welcome topic in our conversations about God.<\/p>\n\n\n\n If theological arguments against bondage, fetishism, and other kinds of kink aren\u2019t as readily available and fiercely defended as those against homosexual behavior, it isn\u2019t because traditional conservative theology welcomes these practices with open arms. On the contrary, orthodox sources generally consider BDSM and related pastimes to be so obviously contrary to Christian teaching\u2014so blatantly, intrinsically wrong\u2014that there isn\u2019t much need to make a case against them in the first place.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Where that case is actually written out, it paints the combination of sex with pain, restraint, roleplay, etc. as contrary to \u201cnature,\u201d a violation of a hypothesized natural law according to which sex has a limited and specific function. In a Catholic Answers <\/em>blog post entitled \u201cThe Attraction of Aberrant Behavior,\u201d<\/a> for instance, Fr. Hugh Barbour, O. Praem., argues that: <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cTo be sexually aroused by an object or activity that is not related to the union of male and female and the procreation of human nature is an indication of an imbalance […] Abusive gestures or postures or clothing do not represent a true and free relation between the sexes; rather, they act out sexually other psychological aspects of the relationship of the sexes that suffer from the exaggerations and misperceptions of fallen human nature.\u201d<\/span>2<\/sup><\/a><\/span> <\/p>\n\n\n\n The desire for kinky sex is, by this definition, a product of our \u201cfallen human nature\u201d\u2014a symptom of our fundamental brokenness, and therefore something to be resisted. Adam and Eve, before eating that darn apple, could have had no urge to tie each other up, or step on each other\u2019s chests while wearing high-heeled boots. The fact that some of their descendants occasionally do want to try these things is a sign of how far we\u2019ve fallen from what we’re supposed to be.<\/p>\n\n\n\n These activities, and even the \u201cgestures,\u201d \u201cpostures,\u201d and \u201cclothing\u201d that often go with them, are labelled as inherently \u201cabusive\u201d\u2014that is, improper or misapplied<\/a>. There is a correct way to \u201crelate,\u201d and that is \u201cthe union of male and female [for] the procreation of human nature.\u201d Behavior which falls outside of this norm is wrong because <\/em>it is outside. It is not directed at the proper aim of sex.<\/p>\n\n\n\n If this is indeed a full and accurate understanding of kink, it stands to reason that there wouldn\u2019t be much theology about it. After all, if theology is \u201ctalk (logos) about God (theos),\u201d and if \u201cGod\u201d is the fullness of goodness, justice, and truth, we would hardly expect to find him in the places where we revel in our \u201cimbalance\u201d and \u201cfallen human nature\u201d by donning corsets and consensually saying mean things to each other. <\/p>\n\n\n\n But what if kink is something more than \u201cAberrant Behavior\u201d? Is it really so easy to shove aside bondage and fetishism as mere deviance from \u201cnatural\u201d sexuality, and therefore irrelevant to a serious discussion of God? In other words, does God clutch at his pearls and faint at the sound of creaking leather\u2014or is he, in fact, quite at home in the dungeon? Can we meet him there?<\/p>\n\n\n\n But wait a minute: what does it mean to \u201cmeet God\u201d here in our ordinary, material world? By what criteria can I judge one experience as more or less \u201cGodly\u201d than another? How, in other words, can I know for certain that a feeling I want to label as \u201cHoly Spirit,\u201d \u201cDivine Presence,\u201d or something similar, is in fact what I hope it is\u2014and not, for instance, mad cow disease, or a little devil whispering evil, lewd thoughts in my ear?<\/p>\n\n\n\n The short answer: I can\u2019t know<\/a>. At least I don\u2019t think I can. If there\u2019s a way to be 100% certain of the rightness of my intentions, never mind my actions, I haven\u2019t found it yet. <\/p>\n\n\n\n What I can do\u2014all I can do\u2014is rely on my best reasoning, and look at my experience through the lenses provided by those who claim to have met God themselves\u2014to review the work of those people who believe they have encountered divinity at some point in their lives, and see to what extent my experience lines up with theirs. Doing this can, at a minimum, offer me a rough sense of what given thinkers and saints were trying to convey when they spoke of finding \u201cGod\u201d in the world, and allow me to see if I recognize their \u201cGod\u201d in my own life.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I might, for instance, turn to St. Ignatius, who literally wrote the book on this subject. In his Spiritual Exercises<\/em>, Ignatius posits a number of rules for discernment<\/em>\u2014the process of figuring out whether a given experience comes from God, whether a particular course of action is aligned with God\u2019s will, etc. <\/p>\n\n\n\n While these rules can get quite complex, generally speaking, Ignatius argues that thoughts which increase one\u2019s sense of peace over the long term are likely Godly, while those that cause anxiety or doubt are more likely devilish. As Jesuit Fr. Robert J. Spitzer puts it in a blog post on the topic<\/a>: <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhen decisions, resolutions, or patterns of action increase love and trust in God in the long term, that\u2019s a sign that they are consistent with the workings of the Holy Spirit and can therefore be called spiritual consolations. Conversely, decisions or actions that gradually decrease love, trust, and hope are not consistent with the workings of the Holy Spirit, and they result in spiritual desolations.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n From this Ignatian point of view, then, affect or feeling is not something to be suppressed, ignored, or abandoned. It is, in fact, a critical tool in figuring out what is best for us in this life. To vastly oversimplify, according to these rules of discernment, there is a certain, limited extent to which we have to use our gut when trying to recognize God in our daily lives.<\/span>3<\/sup><\/a><\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n This is a surprisingly existentialist take from a sixteenth-century Catholic theologian. It must have been refreshing to churchgoers steeped in the abstractions of medieval scholasticism. <\/p>\n\n\n\n We find a similar appreciation for the relevance of lived experience in the work of Gabriel Marcel<\/a>, one of the very few explicitly existentialist philosophers the Church can lay claim to.<\/p>\n\n\n\n In The Mystery of Being<\/em>, Marcel defines a \u201cphilosophical investigation\u201d\u2014that is, a search for the truth\u2014as \u201ca gathering together of the processes by which I can pass from a situation which is experienced as basically discordant, a situation in which I can go so far as to say that I am at war with myself, to a different situation in which some kind of expectation is satisfied.\u201d<\/span>4<\/sup><\/a><\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n Note the parallels between Marcel\u2019s \u201cphilosophical investigation\u201d and the Ignatian process of discernment. In both cases, one arrives at what is right, good, true, etc. not through formal proofs or by appeals to authority, but by observing what generates a sense of peace where there had been disturbance\u2014in Marcel\u2019s terms, what moves us from internal \u201cwar\u201d to a feeling of being \u201csatisfied\u201d with the answers one has found. <\/p>\n\n\n\n According to a particular line of Catholic thinking, then, a person can determine the extent to which a thought, action, situation, lifestyle, etc. is aligned with what we might call truth, love, the work of the Holy Spirit, and so on by carefully examining the feelings it evokes over an extended period of time. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Things which bring lasting peace, joy, and trust\u2014as opposed to instant gratification, even in the form of fleeting spiritual highs\u2014can be considered good, and worth exploring further. Those which generate anxiety and fear over the long term\u2014even if they feel good in the moment\u2014are probably not conducive to our spiritual wellbeing, and should most likely be dropped.<\/p>\n\n\n\n That being the case, the question then becomes: does attendance at a kink convention, of all things, fit the bill? Could BDSM\u2014both the practice itself, and the community surrounding it\u2014possibly lead to the deep, enduring sense of peace Ignatius and Marcel are describing? If so, how would that work?<\/p>\n\n\n\n As an existentialist, Marcel spent a good deal of time thinking about what it is like to be in the world\u2014defining the human experience, good and bad, as he saw it. He compares the individual subject, constantly worried about self-preservation, to an awkward, lonely party guest, nervous about making some mistake and being humiliated in front of strangers. He writes:<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cSuch a young man is, as you so admirably express it in English, to the highest degree self-conscious […] To such a young man it seems that he has been literally thrown (as Christians were thrown to the lions) to the malevolent lucidity of other people\u2019s glances. Thus he is […] hypnotized […] by what he imagines other people may think of him.\u201d<\/span>5<\/sup><\/a><\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n Marcel\u2019s description of a fragile selfhood constantly on its guard bears a strong resemblance to the experience of being in the closet, whether one is hiding their kinks, gender, orientation, or any other dimension of their sexuality which falls outside of a perceived norm. <\/p>\n\n\n\n The closeted sadomasochist, for instance, is very familiar with the \u201cmalevolent lucidity of other people\u2019s glances\u201d\u2014the destructive power another person\u2019s negative judgement can have on one\u2019s sense of self. Indeed, fear can make what \u201cother people may think\u201d the most important thing in the closeted person’s life. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Justifiably afraid to be perceived as \u201cimbalance[d]\u201d or \u201cabusive,\u201d the closeted kinkster may spend enormous energy putting on the performance of a vanilla sexuality, hiding their real wants from others and even themselves. There is a sense of pulling inward, of tightening around oneself, to prevent anything damning from getting out. As a result, such a person does not have the sense of being truly known <\/em>by anyone else. They are safe behind their mask\u2014and profoundly alone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The better, fuller way of being, according to Marcel, is what he calls intersubjectivity<\/em>\u2014a lived experience of communion<\/span>6<\/sup><\/a><\/span> with others. In the realm of intersubjectivity, boundaries between selves become porous, even if they don\u2019t dissolve entirely. To realize a sense of intersubjectivity is to feel a deep solidarity with another, to welcome and be welcomed. Further developing the metaphor of the young man at the party, Marcel continues:<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cSuppose that the ice is after all broken, and that the conversation takes on a more intimate character. \u2018I am glad to meet you,\u2019 says [a] stranger, \u2018I once knew your parents,\u2019 and all at once a bond is created and, what specially matters, there is a relaxation of tension […] He is lifted right out of the here and now, and, what is very strange surely, this unknown person whom he has just met accompanies him on this sort of magic voyage.\u201d<\/span>7<\/sup><\/a><\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n Intersubjectivity, according to Marcel, releases the \u201ctension\u201d that the individual subject carries to defend itself from attack. In other words, the move from egotism to intersubjectivity is one instance of a \u201cphilosophical investigation\u201d and its conclusion. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Communion is the answer to isolation, recognizable because it brings with it noticeable changes in feeling, specifically relaxation, ease, and peace where there had been self-consciousness, doubt, and tension. By finding its way into the experience of intersubjectivity with another, the lonely, anxious self brings an end to its internal \u201cwar,\u201d and becomes \u201csatisfied.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Realizing intersubjectivity, then, is one way to reach the end of the philosophical investigation around existential angst\u2014a direct experience of transcendent Good, Truth, etc. In other words, from Marcel\u2019s point of view, intersubjectivity is an experience of God in the material world, which feels like a homecoming for the lonely person who has spent too long in exile.<\/span>8<\/sup><\/a><\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n Growing up with a kink\u2014or several\u2014is a challenge. It\u2019s hard to find positive depictions of kink and kinky people in the books we read and the shows and movies we watch. At best, kinky behavior becomes an easy target for lazy comedy writers, an absurd parody of sex.<\/a> At worst, it has been used as a justification for denying legal rights to kinky people,<\/a> on the false assumption that such attractions are evidence of mental illness.<\/a> I\u2019ve already mentioned what conservative theology has to say on the matter.<\/p>\n\n\n\n All of these things combined can leave the closeted kinkster feeling like Marcel\u2019s awkward young man at the party, all the time. That emotional vacuum\u2014that need to be recognized, to be known\u2014can make the prospect of flying across state lines to meet several hundred other kinksters very appealing, albeit terrifying. Actually making the trip, and experiencing that gathering\u2014that intersubjectivity\u2014can be transformative.<\/p>\n\n\n\n To get to the point: about three years ago, as of this writing, I flew to the suburbs of Chicago to attend my first rope bondage convention as a recently single man. This, after spending many years in the closet for all the reasons outlined above.<\/p>\n\n\n\n That weekend, surrounded by people like me\u2014people who like the same things I do; who\u2019ve been through what I have been through; who have the ability to know <\/em>me\u2014I experienced the hallmarks of what Ignatius would call consolation<\/em>, and what Marcel would think of as the satisfactory end of a philosophical investigation. <\/p>\n\n\n\n I attended classes in knot-tying. I watched demonstrations of incredible rope-handling skill. More importantly, I openly spoke the truth, for the first time in my life, with others who understood it. In the process, I had a profound experience of Marcel\u2019s intersubjectivity\u2014a sudden release of tension in my heart, a softening of boundaries between I and Thou…and a feeling of finally coming home.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Joseph A. Tetlow, SJ, offers another reliable sign of consolation in his overview of Ignatian discernment: This, I think, is the strongest proof I have that the Spirit moves in our playspaces and dungeons: that weekend, after many years of being unable to cry<\/a><\/span>9<\/sup><\/a><\/span>, I wept every day.<\/p>\n\n\n\n In the hotel room; in the bathrooms; in the hallways between temporary classroom walls; I cried. I was a mess. And in that mess, parts of my body I\u2019d assumed were bones turned soft and melted away. Gently pulling rope over a willing partner\u2019s skin, I <\/em>became part of a We<\/em>. There was no more pretending. No more fighting. Finally\u2014finally\u2014there was peace.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Even so, why bring it up?<\/p>\n\n\n\n According to Marcel, we are on the right track in our philosophical investigations when we discover those questions which point to \u201ca line of direction along which we must move.\u201d<\/span>10<\/sup><\/a><\/span> Following that line demands \u201ca certain courage, a courage in following out the course of our thoughts where it leads us[.]\u201d<\/span>11<\/sup><\/a><\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n The experience that Ignatius and Marcel describe has a compelling quality. It pulls us forward, in the direction of deeper involvement with those contexts and situations that seem to bring it out. So it\u2019s convenient\u2014less disruptive\u2014if God reveals himself to us in the traditionally accepted places: in church on Sunday mornings, for instance, or during a nature walk. <\/p>\n\n\n\n But if he instead decides to show his face at a kink convention; at the club, or in the octagon; during cardiac arrest or a Buddhist retreat; we don\u2019t get to decide whether or not we saw him. All we get to decide how we\u2019ll respond\u2014whether we\u2019ll turn away and bury our noses in a catechism, or instead \u201cfollow[] out the course of our thoughts where it leads us[,]\u201d wherever that may be.<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n And if we’re honest with ourselves, we’ll understand that we “must” go that way if we are to really live. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Paul Tillich\u2019s Porn Stash In her seminal work Indecent Theology, Marcella Althaus-Reid relates a fact about prominent theologian Paul Tillich, first shared by his wife Hannah in her memoir From…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"nf_dc_page":"","om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-59","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"aioseo_notices":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/twice-born.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/59","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/twice-born.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/twice-born.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/twice-born.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/twice-born.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=59"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/twice-born.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/59\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":119,"href":"https:\/\/twice-born.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/59\/revisions\/119"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/twice-born.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=59"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/twice-born.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=59"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/twice-born.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=59"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}\u201cAbusive gestures or postures or clothing\u201d<\/h2>\n\n\n\n
Recognizing God<\/h2>\n\n\n\n
Intersubjectivity<\/h2>\n\n\n\n
A “Magic Voyage”<\/h2>\n\n\n\n
<\/a>\u201cWhen, without warning or any preparatory activity, you are consoled with the love of God above all things, you can trust that it is a good spirit (particularly if it comes with tears).\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cCourage\u201d<\/h2>\n\n\n\n