The Fisher King

Language, faith and abuse

I used to have a blog that I called “Marginal Musings”. Perhaps that’s what I should call this Substack site. I write this by way of gleanings I gather along the way—random readings, fleeting ideas, moments of insight or struggle that surge up in me and defy me to find words to express them. It’s a ragbag of thoughts that I tell myself one day I’ll stitch into a patchwork that might even become a book, but here it is in all its messy experiments with language and meaning.

Today’s reflections meander around an uncomfortable decision not to go to Mass on the Feast of Christ the King. Uncomfortable, because when all is said and done, Christianity can be a guilt trip from which it’s difficult to escape, and the institutional church capitalises on that to keep us docile. So yes, I feel a bit guilty. Also uncomfortable because I feel angered and alienated by the platitudes that mask the deep misogyny at the heart of the institutional Church, which often obscure the mystery of the liturgy. I’…