Rebecca M. M. Voelkel - Carnal Knowledge of God: Embodied Love and the Movement for Justice

Dedicated to the Rev. Dr. Marilyn McCord Adams, my teacher, mentor, and friend whose love and passion helped give birth to this book. Be outrageous for the gospels sake and fiercely trust in the goodness of God in the face of evil.

Even as I acknowledge my responsibility for the shape, form, and content of this book, I am profoundly aware that it has been birthed out of an extended community whose body is big and bodacious and powerful. To the women and genderqueer people who took the time to share their wisdom and insights, some of them borne of pain and suffering, I return thanks to God for you.

To all those religious communities that have guided and shaped my development as a theologian and activistthe United Church of Christ (UCC), the Center for the Prevention of Sexual and Domestic Violence, the World Council of Churches US Urban-Rural Mission, St. Pauls UCC, St. Johns UCC, St. Lukes UCC, the Peoples Church of Chicago, Earlham College Meeting for Worship, Pilgrim Congregational UCC, Spirit of the Lakes UCC, Lyndale UCC, the Christian Base Communities in Mexico and El Salvador, Earlham College, Yale Divinity School, and United Theological Seminary of the Twin CitiesI would not have been able to write word one without you. I hope you know who you are. In particular, I need to thank my colleague, Fintan Moore, whose shared dreaming about sex and the spirit helped me begin to systematize my thinking. Mle buochas libh! (A Thousand Thanks!) Your queerly passionate, profanity-laden reverence remains a guiding gift.

I also stand on the shoulders of countless activists and saints whose walking made the path on which they and I have been able to tread. Abolitionist, Suffrage, anti-war, Civil Rights, Black Power, feminist, womanist, mujerista, liberation, queer, and countless other move- ments have given birth to people who believed that they were called to make the world better and more just by acting together in faith. My imagination is bigger and broader because of them.

One of the activist communities to which I owe gratitude is the National LGBTQ Task Force. While I worked there, many of my colleagues talked through much of what I share here. Thank you in particular to Lisa Weiner-Mahfuz, Russell Roybal, Sue Hyde, David Lohman, Barbara Satin, Evangeline Weiss, Trina Olson, Sayre Reece, Trystan Reese, Causten Rodriguez-Wollerman, Kathleen Campisano, Rev. Darlene Nipper, Jack Harrison-Quintana, and Dr. Jaime Grant. Thank you for your patience and grace. I also would never have come to this point in my journey without the brilliant minds and wise hearts of my colleagues on the Welcoming Church Program Leaders, the Bishops and Elders Council, and the National Religious Leadership Roundtable. My participation in the Welcoming Religious Movement has taught me how to be a better theologian and pastor. In particular, Beth Zemsky helped put language to much of my movement-building impulses and experiences. This book and my work are more intentional and better because of you.

As I have worked, prayed, and struggled with all that is represented here, Rev. Debra Peevey has journeyed with me as my spiritual director, mentor, and friend. Her constant advice to pause and breathe remains powerful, embodied wisdom. You cannot be in your bodyand honoring itunless you first breathe and bring yourself to it.

Many scholars and mentors supported me along the way: Rev. Dr. Jann Cather Weaver, Dr. Jean Morris Trumbauer, Rev. Dr. Carolyn Pressler, Rev. Dr. Anita Bradshaw, Rev. Carol Wise, Darla Baker, Rev. Cath Crooks, Dr. Caroline Higgins, Dr. Jean Chagnon, Macky Alston, and Dr. Sharon Groves provided much supportive and precise feedback. Lisa Anderson was a critical accountability and thought partner. And when I hit a wall and thought I could not possibly see this project to the end, Rev. Dr. Shannon Craigo-Snell and Rev. Dr. Marilyn McCord Adams told me they believed in my work. In particular, Marilyn invited me to her home for a retreat, during which she painstakingly read over every word and then read draft after draft, offering concrete and clear feedback. I owe more than I can ever repay. Each piece helped make this work better. More recently, I have been challenged and supported by my colleagues in MARCH (Multifaith Anti-Racism, Change and Healing), in Healing Minnesota Stories, in Black Clergy United for Change, in Black Lives Matter Minneapolis, and in Minnesota Interfaith Power and Light. For scholars and mentors like you, I thank God.

Particularly in the later stages of this project, Nokomis Beach Coffee became my office and walks around my beloved Lake Nokomis grounded me and reminded me of the beauty of Gods creation and my connection to it. A deep word of gratitude for Dennis, Mary, Miriam, Nichole, Ewa, Olivia, Nick, Zoe, and Jess, who offered me iced tea, even in the depth of Minnesota winters, and words of encouragement to fortify the work.

As I have been in the final editing phases, I have been asked to #StandwithStandingRock and be physically present with the Water Protectors there. My experience has both confirmed what I share in these pages and challenged me to greater faithfulness in the face of colonization.

None of what is shared here would have seen much of the light of day without the insightful, supportive, creatively critical eye of Neil Elliott, my editor at Fortress Press. I also am so grateful for the whole Fortress Press team, including Layne Johnson, Allyce Amundson, Tanner Hall, Esther Diley, Katie Clifford, Michael Moore, and Carolyn Halvorson. For their willingness to receive this manuscript and shepherd its coming into published form, I will remain forever grateful.

Finally, I want to thank my family. My mom and dad, Rev. Marguerite Unwin Voelkel and Rev. Bill Voelkel, both United Church of Christ pastors, laid the groundwork that has led me on this path. My dad died as I was writing the first drafts, and his spiritmost palpably represented in the picture of him that sits on my deskhelped keep me on the task. My partner, Maggie Shannon George, and our daughter, Shannon MacKenzie George Voelkel, allowed me time and space to germinate, incubate, and hold in my body much of what ended up on these pages. They also brought me food, beautiful pictures, and hugs and kisses. I love you both!

One note as you begin reading: throughout this work, I use terms that are important in the movement for embodied justice but that may be less familiar to many of my readers. To aid in clarity and understanding, please refer to the glossary that is included at the end of the book.