Is it possible to really know God’s wants — especially when we have so many Gods roaming the universe around us? We can pretend we know God’s wants. We can interpret text to try to give us direction — but any human knowing of an immortal’s internal intention is folly at best and heresy in the worst.
I was startled to read today that Jesus — yes, THAT Jesus — may have been the child born from a Roman raping of his mother, Mary.
In a recent comments flow for my — Disposable Women: Slasher to Gash Her — article, we wondered about the idea of crime being the last, and perhaps greatest, religion.
Are we born of original sin?
Are we, in fact, born broken?
If we are splintered and not whole from the start — how are we ever able to reconstitute our beliefs into whole-body faith and service to others?
If we are mendable and worthy of stitching — no matter our faults or precognitions — where to do go to find the glue and thread?
Are we bound to each other in our repair?
Or is it our disrepair that keeps us apart?
The world requires us.
We are inevitable.
We become not what we want — but what others desire of us.
If were were unnecessary, we would not be here.
What, then, do we do with this complicated life when the risk of throwing it away outweighs the rewards of righteousness?
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