Tag Archives: hermeneutic of suspicion

Birth, death, sexuality…human love is WORTHY

13th Sunday in Ordinary time, year a

28 June 2020,

Stef Rozitis

“Loving God in your graciousness you make us worthy to receive you. Only say the word and my soul shall be healed”

It’s no secret that I love doing reflections, that I say “yes” when asked before I even look at the readings. How lucky that I can trust God and the community and risk being honest instead of careful in what I say. I know everyone here will consider my words, draw what insights you can from them but not blindly follow me into thoughts that come from my own standpoint and are only part of the whole.

The concept of “worthiness” has troubled me since high school. I had a really good friend who was raised Catholic but left the church over the idea that a male-only clergy expect us to come in and say that we are “unworthy” every week. This friend provoked my thinking and nurtured my baby feminism and I came to see what I had felt but not known how to process: I felt deeply insulted at times by liturgy and the lectionary as well as the fact that gatekeepers to both were exclusively men. Repressing knowledge that I was being insulted made it impossible for me to come to terms with myself or to be honest in my relationships.

I too could have left the church, especially since my overthinking of everything led me irresistibly into theology in which space, I thought I would gain some answers. Instead, I was encouraged to risk being honest about my feelings, thoughts and experiences. I had first felt that feeling of disconnect and experienced that deep rejection when I was 4 and first told that I could not follow my strong desire to be a priest, could not even explore it. I probably should have considered the religious life but it was explained to me as a complete denial of your own will, desires and needs. I am sure that this is not a fair portrayal of it but I knew myself well enough to know I was not noble enough to empty myself out and exist only for others. I frequently found others difficult, while my own tumultuous and poorly articulated inner life made me not self-sufficient enough.

So, first I fell pregnant and then married despite having been brought up that the opposite order was better. There was no way I could have known back then just how unfit for marriage I was but there I was suddenly with a family. As I looked down on the face of my own tiny baby, I did not feel he was particularly beautiful or special in any way (that came later) yet I felt a fierce love for him that was not based on him needing to be special but that threw everything I had been taught about worthiness and unworthiness into disarray. One does not ever become worthy of love, love is not a reward for an assessment, it ticks no check-boxes, it meets no rubric it just undoes us all from our ego and our human constructions of worth or status or difference.

I don’t want to romanticise it. Human love is not perfect. If it was we would not have wars, we would not have detention camps, we would definitely not have poverty, exploitation or violence.

But as I looked at my child I was forced to pray:

“God I can’t trick you into thinking I love you more than anyone now.

This changes everything.

If I was asked to choose between you and my child…well I just couldn’t not choose my child”

I thought with disgust of the story of Abraham being prepared to sacrifice Isaac. I had to rethink what I had been taught about the theology of the cross too, about God sacrificing His child. I wondered if all mothers were heretics and why more fathers were not but when I spoke about this to Aragorn’s father he happily joined me in heresy. Our child was our first priority.

Surely though, if God is greater than me and perfect in love and loves my child more than I do then there is nothing risked by me loving my child.

And yet, this is not just an academic question, “Who do you love more?” or “what is infinity plus one”. There are to many “good” Christian parents who throw their own child out on the street for getting pregnant, or having an abortion of even just for being lesbian or gay or trans. Happily there are also parents who when faced with their child’s lifestyle or identity, allow love to challenge, change and grow their faith rather than reject their own. Why do we fear that we can shrink God down to our own small and fear-filled capacity for love? And why would we choose worthiness before love? And would God really want us to?


When my mother died I was angry. I was angry at her for leaving me. “Mothers don’t do this” I raged which of course was neither accurate nor fair but I was so devastated that I stayed with anger for quite some time. My church tradition was supposed to be a comfort but it really wasn’t. I felt I had to pander to other people’s uncontradictory and patriarchal views of my mother, where she was worthy only because of the services she had provided to others, the ways she had been useful or quiet. My experience of her was certainly not that she was quiet- apart from when she was quietly sarcastic.

I had often had conflict with her and I felt that to turn her into a placid and patient saint was to lose her again and again each time we pretended that mother-and-wife as an identity was all or was enough. I stayed angry long after I thought I had moved on. Six months after her death I remember leaving church in angry tears in the middle of the gospel reading because was I supposed to believe that God gave Lazarus back to his family and yet would not give me back my much needed and beloved mother?


The third time I realised that flawed, human love was stronger than anything I was told to believe, stronger than my commitment to my faith was the day I realised I had fallen in love with a woman- again completely against the rules. In my life, apparently, love is always a subversive force, however there was also irony in that event (non-event) in that just before that I had finally kicked the habit of going to church and realised I could get along fine as an atheist but then I met her (an atheist) and craved the beauty of God again and as a result I am here most Sunday mornings. That’s not how she would have liked to have influenced me.

This may seem self-indulgent, perhaps all I have done so far is confess my unworthiness. I love my child, my mother, even some atheist I met more than I love Godde. Or do I?

Can it be that when we convince ourselves that Jesus is asking us to narrow or dilute our capacity for love then we are mistaken and fllowing a false Jesus? Perhaps we need to question the idea of

“more than” and refused to be defined as “worthy”. I’m looking for clues in the second half of today’s gospel. If we receive someone who God loves we receive Christ and therefore God. Love of one is not so separated out. We love humans as part of the continuum of God’s love which shaped and called us, which is the stuff of our breath and body as well as our souls.

We say in this community not that we are unworthy but that God makes us “worthy”. We are made of the stuff of Godness and our vocation is to love more broadly not less strongly. We have to give a cup of water to the thirsty one or in 2020 perhaps we give the roll of toilet paper to the one who did not get to the shop on time. We have to love the one who needs love not only the one we are hardwired toward.

I will not perform “worthiness” for an idolatrous conception of a God that has been used by the church to unhook parents from their children enough so that certain clergy have been able to abuse them. I will not turn my back on the only thing I can offer the world- which is an ability to love. My child and my parent are both made in the image of the true God, to love the light shining through them is perhaps my only access to the source of that light.

What I WILL do is allow God to challenge and provoke me to love even those I do not immediately feel drawn to, children I did not give birth to and old people who did not carry me when I was small. I will take up God’s challenge to see her image in all creation, in seas gasping to be saved from plastic and parrots pleading for trees to nest in. My love does not need to be less strong, but only less parochial.

In the words of the Beatles:

“All you need is love All you need is love All you need is love, love Love [and a hermeneutic of suspicion] is all you need”

Please take a moment to think of all the ways God has touched your own life through love, and where your own worthy and beautiful love may be needed next.

Not finding it in the lectionary this week

Edit: When I wrote this I was unaware that this week is reconciliation week. I feel a bit ashamed that I was unaware but I think some of my points work for that occasion. At church we reflected of reconciliation week, the need to decolonise, the recent arrest of the Catholic archbishop of Adelaide for covering up child abuse, our desire to move away from any model of church that is a “boy’s club” (a man said this), and our tears and love for the people suffering the fall-out of these toxic cultures. I also reflected on the fact that in the week gone we celebrated Pansexual and Panromantic visibility day and that people whose love is outside the box (but respectful, equal and between consenting adults) show the dance of the Trinity in their being.

The idea of “chosenness” that comes through in the first two readings and the psalm this week seems cosy and comforting but it actually if we look closer deeply problematic.

I speak with the anger and bitterness of the outsider- chosen last at team sports, excluded from games and parties and a child, ganged-up on, teased, criticised, harassed, written on with pen and then punished by parents for being written on. I speak with the pain of the eldest child in a large and dysfunctional family- although my feelings of being replaced and passed over were not (I now as a parent myself realise) a completely accurate reflection of reality, the feelings were real. I speak as the child who couldn’t speak English, the teenager who wore hand-me-downs from old people, the young single mother in a primary school where everyone else seemed to be comfortably middle-class. I speak as someone who has suffered mental illness, mild alcoholism, chronic dysphoria around sexual identity.

The minute someone is the “chosen people” you are also creating outsiders, the excluded ones, the ones who do not measure up. I felt this only on a gut level as a child – something about the presumed “chosenness” of the people of God (and lets not blame the Jews this idea is just as rife in the so called “New Testament”) something there seemed a bit off, even when I was a pious little child who assumed my inability to grasp this idea as “fair” and my desire to feel empathy for the ones who were not “chosen” was something I had to try to repress or grow out of (I spent my childhood repressing many things and got quite good at it, not so much now).

I speak with the amusement of the queer, feminist, deconstructive, almost post-Christian (except God doesn’t quite let me slip away). I speak as the outsider who no longer tries to fit in and be “normal”. My hermeneutic of suspicion is triggered by this first reading where we are supposed to believe that no one else ever experienced God until it could be done in the proper patriarchally approved and religiously institutionalised way in the correct sort of fire. This is what the Christian missionaries believed, the ones who worked tirelessly to aid colonialism, at times putting a slightly more benign face of it with gifts of food and clothing but nevertheless destroying cultures and families in the name of this great and good and only Lord and his structure of “rightness”.

Because if we are right then the others are wrong. If we are chosen then the others are rejected. If we have the only and one truth then the others have nothing of value.

And so it begins.

The gospel on this occasion gives no relief. Jesus is the proper rubber-stamped figurehead of the new world-order they worship him repressing their doubts and he commissions them to go out and reach everyone with his marketing message. We can try to cosy up to this, try to read the commissioning as preaching a gospel of liberation and justice, because that fits our theology it fits who we know God is and who we experience Jesus as.

What/who we know experientially and sacramentality is all we really have.

But the church has not necessarily read it this way, when they have seen “make disciples of all the nations” that has fed a deficit view of nations that are not already Christian and an expansionistic mission. Many missionaries no doubt meant well and some were kinder than secular colonists (mind you these colonists also would have considered themselves “Christian”) but this expansionistic mission did huge harm to many people, including perhaps my own people in Latvija colonised by German “Lords” and including certainly Indigenous Australians taken over and used as slaves by the English.

All of this was considered a faithful reading of today’s gospel. All of this is the shame I feel if I admit to anyone that I am a “Christian”.

I am not finding life or Godde in these readings (though perhaps a wiser preacher at church will glean something). I wanted to reflect on the Trinity, on difference and loving “other” or “thou” within God. I want to reflect on the diving dance “peripatesis”, as I learned at theology college the movement of the Trinity is in and out and through and around each other. There is love and beauty, there is relationship and great complexity at the heart of God.

Let’s leave behind colonialist traditions after seeing them for what they are and realising we will be called to account as a culture. Let’s reflect on how we are invited into the peripatesis of the Trinity, the respectful and madly joyful dance of God, the eternal turning toward the other. We are the image of God and as such are called to turn to the image of God in thoughtful listening like Jesus in prayer, in admiring love like the creator at Jesus’ baptism, in nurturing care like the spirit who flows in and through Jesus to the world.

I was hoping that the feast of the Trinity would remind us that “Wisdom has built a house” and invites all to celebrate. There is room then not to colonise, but to meet on equal terms the “others” who are not “Christians” but may have met Wisdom in another place because she likes to get out there- she is no enclosed victim-lady. Wisdom of course, the pre-existing companion of God the Creator is the one embodied as Jesus in the “New Testament”.

But if the lectionary has let me down, then I will dance right out of it to all of scripture and to the ultimate aim in life to understand and heal others. And I will pray:

Father, Mother, Creator of all, Midwife of each life that comes into being. Teach us to know ourselves in your image and see each other in your image. Teach us reverence for all your creation, showing us how to nurture seeds and stones and polar ice caps better. Thank you for naughty kittens and waddling penguins. Thank you for the clever things humans say. Thank you for the richness of which we see only a part. Call us deeper into the connection and love at the heart of your creative work.

Jesus, Christ, Wisdom, Sophia, Son, Word, Mother-Hen, Vine, Way, Truth, Life. As Wisdom you have the eye for detail and for joy. As Jesus you showed unbelievable courage and commitment. You are the one who seeks to protect, heal, scold, reform, feed, teach, guide, send-out and suffer for us and for all creation. You feed us your body and blood, you call us to honour what we eat and to live. Death cannot claim you because your nature is to live always. You bring us transformative possibilities and radical hope but nor without hard work and possibility of suffering also. If the whole world would love you then we would find newness of life. We will seek you and we will find you if we seek with all our heart.

Holy Spirit, dove, flame, fire, love, flow. Giver of wisdom, understanding, counsel, fortitude, knowledge, reverence and respect of God. Pour out your gifts to us. Show us the Creator and the Word in our lives. Help us to read the gospels in the right frame, receptive to your Wisdom and closed off to hatred and abuse. Inspire us with life, fire us with pregnant possibilities like Mary pregnant with the Christ. Remain with us when we are troubled or suffering or even in death. Bring us back to our vocation to love. Bring us back into your presence giver of life.

Trinity of God may I see the love poured out in you each to the others and may I live my life in divine dance, seeking to connect as you connect, seeking to unconditionally love as you love, seeking where the hope is and strengthening there. May my life find meaning, joy, love, peace in you.



Bootleg preacher attempts to be reflexive

Apologies for length. I will never know if you skim read, read just a paragraph or skip it entirely 😉

The missal has this to say explaining the role of the “homily”: “Through the readings, God has spoken to his people of redemption and salvation, and nourished their spirit with his word. Christ is present among the faithful in his word. The homily helps those present understand and reflect upon what they have heard.” (32). We are given no advice on how to discern the validity and “truth” of the homily, presumably we are left to trust blindly to the authority of the (ordained, male) priest. Nor is there any mention of the priest’s responsibility to preach ethically nor any ideas on how to ensure that this happens.

As a listener, I can remember slowly realising that the sermons I had taken as unquestionably truth were performed by biased, limited humans who might have thought they were acting responsibly in what they told us to believe, but did this without any respect for the critical abilities or experiences of the listener and with some fairly glaring gaps in their point of view. I realised this as an adult and as a slow process of disillusionment. By this time I had already heard many things passionately decried from the pulpit- contraception, homosexuality (on the bright side that was where I found out what homosexuality even was) and even feminism.

As a preacher myself, a bootleg-preacher who has no license (or possibility of being licensed) from the church magisterium I wonder then why should people trust what I say? Related to this is a question to myself- how dare I express and opinion and how do I keep myself honest? Part of my answer is that I truly believe that I am preaching not for personal gain, or to big-note myself (to the tiny handful of people who receive my words) but because the female, feminist, lesbian, single-mother, vegan point of view is part of the much wider and more diverse kindom of God and is a piece that has been hidden from sight and silenced from being heard. Therefore I speak not only myself but a silenced fragment of the Word of God.

So “God told me to” I say, and yet this as a claim must always be suspect. Much as I am suspicious of the authority of the clergy, so anyone ought to be extremely suspicious of my authority too- perhaps the more so if you only have my word for it. Within the messiness of that awareness I always preach carefully, self-consciously trying to remember that no one OWES me their trust and belief and that they will listen politely and then decide and possibly disagree with me. This is one safety catch to my preaching.

But then recently I had an experience where an academic article I wrote (nothing to do with theology) was rejected by the peer reviewers and one of their criticisms was that I had not established the VALIDITY of my research enough. This criticism has led me into a lot of reading and thinking about validity- what is it and how do we establish it? To problematize this further, there is no established blueprint for validity and even things that get taken for granted as the “gold standard” (scientific method) contain flaws and impossibilities. For an interesting view of some research that has claimed to “prove” things while in fact being full of flaws, read Brain Storm: The Flaws in the Science of Sex Differences by Rebecca M. Jordan-Young. This book rang true with me- many things that are accepted as “fact” seem built on a foundation of sand- but then where is the rock on which I can pitch my building (clever people will tell me the rock is God or Christ but that is a glib non-answer really).

How do I “keep myself honest” to do what I way I am doing, say what I claim I will say and show my working out enough so people can follow me (or spot where they diverge). How might I do it in research brings me back to the question of how do I do it as a preacher (blogger, speaker). I have some thoughts on this- mainly sourced from reading things written by Patti Lather, also Jill Green, as well as a lecture I recently attended by Yarrow Andrew.  I have not given links to their work but all are possible to “google scholar”. Even though all three are academic writers/speakers my thoughts here will remain more about my faith life rather than becoming academic in nature.

One of the first things that springs up whenever people consider qualitative research methods and especially the place of feminist thinking is the idea of reflexivity. Reflexivity means having some idea of who I am, what experiences have formed me to be this way and what gaps there may be in my knowledge and experience. In other words it involves identifying my bias and my point of view. For feminists reflexivity means both explaining how our experiences (of exclusion and discrimination) have led us to challenge what we are “supposed to” think and how we are “supposed to” account for it- so that our experiences become an impetus for questioning and breaking the rules (both the clearly stated and the taken-for-granted ones). We might find that the rules don’t “work” for us, or function only to keep reproducing the status quo and leave power imbalances intact. Then I as a preacher use my knowledge of who I am and what sort of people I might (partially) speak for to argue for my right and need to speak.

The other function of “reflexivity” is to call to account the speakers and preachers who have defined “truth” for us and told us what to believe. So for example when the preacher told me that women feeling erotic love for other women was “sinful”, I could have asked him how he would know this (I was about eight and he was beyond question). He was a man with a public commitment to be “celibate” therefore not to be in intimate relations with a woman himself. He had lived for many years with other celibate men (although it is probable that some of the domestics who looked after him and certainly some if not all of his secretaries were female). Nothing about his standpoint means he is necessarily “wrong” it just means he would have had very little empathy for what it was like growing up as a female who was female-centred in her unspeakable desires, who was sent to an all girls’ school etc. He was speaking to me from a very, very distant point from my experience across a whole host of assumptions that came out of his own limited perspective and which I was expected to take-on wholesale.

At the time I did take them on, because I didn’t have the years under my belt to know that anything I could feel, imagine or experience had any sort of meaning. Life was confusing and I experienced myself as a misfit and a hated mistake. This of course was not the preacher’s intent and I would not have seen any part of how depressed and self-hating I was to have stemmed from what I heard at church. If I was older and more opinionated/feminist I would have had questions about how he knew what he “knew” and where such thinking came from. He would have had answers for all my questions of course but I could question the answers and keep questioning or at least work out of a hermeneutic of suspicion- which we know to switch on as soon as someone is claiming to speak “absolute truth” and not showing reflexivity about their own possible failures to “know” or “understand”.

In addition to reflexivity, Green talks about “catalytic validity”, that is, being aware what it is we want to change through our research. For the preacher there can be no clear “catalytic validity” because it would be unethical to tell people how to live or specifically what to do (in the past some preachers have told people how to vote but tempting though that is- that is an abuse of the power to preach). So as a preacher instead my “catalytic validity” is the desire to be moving in my own life toward the kindom of God- so I am preaching to myself, I am trying to shift my own self into better praxis and healthier relationships. In that sense preaching must be a giant (but honest) thinking aloud exercise where I am showing my own faith journey and allowing anyone who listens/reads me to walk it with me. They get to choose their own role on my journey, they could be observers, participants, co-walkers, respectful disagree-ers or disbelievers or attempt to change my direction. People sometimes shift between different roles in engaging with my faith journey but just as I do not get to define their journey, so they may speak back by sharing their own but they don’t get to take my journey from me and forcibly change my direction or derail me.

I wanted to say a lot more about triangulation (not letting one person being your only source for what to believe) and how also some of ideas around how concepts of “validity” are problematic, fragmented and don’t always perfectly come out but I am aware that this is already an overly long piece of writing.

If you wish to- share in the comments what sort of things a preacher may say, do or be that make you more likely to trust their preaching (or mistrust it) and also how you bring your own hermeneutic of suspicion into how you engage with someone’s preaching.

In addition for anyone who preaches, I would like to know (if you can simply reduce it for us) how you make sure you are saying things that are right, valid and helpful for others; also do you undermine your own authoritative voice in any way to assist people to remember to listen critically and with discernment?

But perhaps you will feel this conversation would go better over a bottle of scotch and several hours…