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The Body of God: An Ecological Theology
Award-winning theologian Sallie McFague here develops a striking and novel vision of the universe, one that takes seriously and radically both contemporary science and the incarnational commitments of the Christian tradition.
288 pages, Paperback
First published May 1, 1993
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About the author
Sallie McFague
27 books28 followersSallie McFague (born 1933) was an American feminist Christian theologian.
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April 20, 2023
In The Body of God: An Ecological Theology, Sallie McFague offers a theological model that invites Christians to regard the manifold bodies of the physical world as an embodiment of the divine. As a metaphorical theologian, McFague finds freedom in the fundamental inability to discuss God with perfect accuracy as license to develop fresh ways of describing God that serve functional aims. Here, her concern is with the ecological crisis ––already so pressing 30 years ago when she was writing–– and she is motivated to “change consciousness, to develop a new sensibility about who we are in the scheme of things so that when we deal with concrete issues we can do so differently than in the past” (202). McFague insists that our theological models and religious narratives are deeply formational, even if at a subconscious level, and in regard to (primarily white, middle-class) American Christians, this has operated mostly malformatively. In response, she presents reimagined and “remythologized” articulations of anthropology, theology, and Christology which aim to restore and revitalize humanity’s ecological engagement with the hope of planetary sustainability, if not flourishing.
After a somewhat convoluted and repetitive trio of introductory chapters that set the stage, McFague begins in earnest with a reconsideration of anthropology in light of what she deems the “common creation story” –– a broad term for the myriad of postmodern scientific theories that relay a universal origin of creation beginning with a colloquial “Big Bang.” Christians who are more committed to the Genesis narrative of creation, even at a metaphorical level, are likely to be disappointed here by her near-total abandonment of its significance in favor of this new story, but McFague is frank about her commitment to some semblance of scientific viability. Instead, she reflects on the anthropological implications this common creation story has for humanity. Foundationally, it affirms that in some crucial way, the earth is the home of humanity; our very existence is the result of millennia of evolutionary processes that could have only occurred here in interdependent relationship with all the other concurrent unfoldings (102). For McFague, this deep sense of belonging to the earth and its countless other bodies rectifies more otherworldly inclinations of spiritualty that emphasize our bodily ephemerality, which she suggests fosters a detachment and apathy towards what happens here and now as secondary, if not ultimately irrelevant.
Importantly, the common creation story serves an even more crucial purpose of “decentering and recentering of human beings” in our relationship to the world (108). Unlike the Genesis narrative, which suggests humanity existed within the first “week” of creation and that we functioned as its climax or point, the scientific consensus finds that “on the universe’s clock, human existence appears a few seconds before midnight” (108). Unless we imagine God twiddling their thumbs for almost the entirety of time thus far, McFague argues, this necessarily decenters us as the stars of the cosmological show, but our uniqueness in turn recenters us as distinct members of the ensemble cast. The purpose of creation, within this view, “is not human beings (or any other species), but the fecundity, richness, and diversity of all that is bodied forth from God and sustained in life by the breath of God” (148). So, even if other parts of creation are much more adept at living into the interdependence and relationality suggested by our shared origin, humanity is likely the only part that is conscious of this story and its ramifications. And while much of history demonstrates how some people have seen this as a superiority that has given license to commodify and corrupt the rest of the natural world for their (short-term) benefit, it actually thrusts upon all of us the responsibility of stewardship.
Having articulated a new understanding of humanity, McFague turns her attention to a fresh model for God. Building off of Christian affirmations of embodiment via the divine incarnation in Jesus and ongoing sacramentality, McFague takes a creative leap from these particularized instances of physicality towards a vision of the entire cosmos as the body of God. It bears repeating that her methodology is explicitly metaphorical; McFague clarifies that this is not a literal description, but rather an attempt to infuse our theological imagination with new aesthetic and ethical functions. She associates the former with immanent transcendence and the latter with transcendent immanence (133-134). Rather than relying on metaphors of transcendence that render God distant or otherwise abstracted from the human experience, a more immanent sense of the cosmos as God’s embodiment elicits an intuitive overwhelm at the expansiveness (temporarily, spatially, and across the manifold diversity of bodies) and awe at the complexity and grandeur on display. And by affirming God’s embodiment across all bodies, rather than solely that of Jesus, divine immanence takes on a transcendent multiplicity while remaining as available and near to us as our own body and breath.
The final major move of The Body of God is to consider how Christology might shape these reconfigurations of Christian anthropology and theology. McFague diverges from advocates of creation spirituality and natural theology in her reluctance to ascribe a teleogical aim apparent in our scientific sensibilities of the evolutionary process. Though she agrees that God is embodied by and enlivens every part of creation, she sees evidence of confirmation bias that ignores the chaos, contingency, and immense suffering inherent to natural selection amongst those who see nature as evidence of God’s redemptive plan for the world. Instead, she argues that Christians must commit to a willful wager of faith in trusting that it is Christ who offers a salvific vision of the direction of creation (160). For Christians, Jesus serves as either the singular or most distinctive incarnation of God, and therefore his life, ministry, and teachings provide the most paradigmatic model for God’s character, purpose, and desires.
McFague looks to Christ and sees a trajectory towards liberation and justice exemplified in his ministry of parables which destabilize hierarchies, healings which bring about embodied restoration, and table fellowship that promotes radical inclusion of all. Further, the primary benefactor across these practices is always the oppressed, marginalized, vulnerable, and needy (167-169). Building off of her previous refusal to prioritize humanity over the rest of creation, she then argues that in the Anthropocene, the natural world has emerged as a new category of the oppressed, and in line with her view of Christ, this elevates her concern for the world from a sentimental plea for stewardship to a righteous mandate for solidarity (166). This is manifest through the active work of resisting eco-injustice and the passive work of suffering with the planet in instances when this fails. She associates the former with Christ’s aforementioned ministerial practices and the latter with his death on the cross, evidence of God’s commitment to suffer with creation which is understood at new depths when we consider God to be embodied by all bodies, including those enduring excruciating pain and destruction (176-178). More tenuously, however, she also looks to Christ’s resurrection as the basis for “hope against hope” in the “basic trustworthiness at the heart of existence; that life, not death, is the last word; that against all evidence to the contrary (and most evidence is to the contrary), all our efforts…will not be defeated. It is the belief that the source and power of the universe is on the side of life and its fulfillment” (191).
Though it is almost certainly bound to alienate Christians more committed to theological orthodoxy early on, The Body of God offers a vivid, creative, and potentially generative model of God with multiple strengths. Most centrally, it carries an ethical core that reorients Christians to attend to and care for the earth as both a mandated extension of Jesus’s ministry and a means of loving God’s embodied presence. Guided by a driving sense that what we believe shapes what we do, her hope is that when the earth is believed to be sacred, its desecration becomes a more serious sin, and its protection an act of fidelity and worship. More tangentially, it also features a compelling pastoral and theodical dimensions emphasizing God’s immanent nearness coupled with a more accessible means of relating to God’s transcendence. Further, its focus on the fundamental interdependence and relationality of all creation and the “welcome home” it offers to demographics of humanity who have felt alienated from the planet for centuries invite new postures towards the environment that are simultaneously intuitive and revelatory. When considering the Wesleyan quadrilateral, it is apparent that McFague relies heavily on experience and reason (understood as consultation with scientific communities) at the expense of rigorous or even considered engagement with Scripture and tradition. Yet she acknowledges these shortcomings and links them with her perceived need for Christianity to incorporate adaptive, corrective perspectives in response to the crises of the moment. Her work here depicts one impassioned, thorough, imaginative, and alluring attempt to do so.
After a somewhat convoluted and repetitive trio of introductory chapters that set the stage, McFague begins in earnest with a reconsideration of anthropology in light of what she deems the “common creation story” –– a broad term for the myriad of postmodern scientific theories that relay a universal origin of creation beginning with a colloquial “Big Bang.” Christians who are more committed to the Genesis narrative of creation, even at a metaphorical level, are likely to be disappointed here by her near-total abandonment of its significance in favor of this new story, but McFague is frank about her commitment to some semblance of scientific viability. Instead, she reflects on the anthropological implications this common creation story has for humanity. Foundationally, it affirms that in some crucial way, the earth is the home of humanity; our very existence is the result of millennia of evolutionary processes that could have only occurred here in interdependent relationship with all the other concurrent unfoldings (102). For McFague, this deep sense of belonging to the earth and its countless other bodies rectifies more otherworldly inclinations of spiritualty that emphasize our bodily ephemerality, which she suggests fosters a detachment and apathy towards what happens here and now as secondary, if not ultimately irrelevant.
Importantly, the common creation story serves an even more crucial purpose of “decentering and recentering of human beings” in our relationship to the world (108). Unlike the Genesis narrative, which suggests humanity existed within the first “week” of creation and that we functioned as its climax or point, the scientific consensus finds that “on the universe’s clock, human existence appears a few seconds before midnight” (108). Unless we imagine God twiddling their thumbs for almost the entirety of time thus far, McFague argues, this necessarily decenters us as the stars of the cosmological show, but our uniqueness in turn recenters us as distinct members of the ensemble cast. The purpose of creation, within this view, “is not human beings (or any other species), but the fecundity, richness, and diversity of all that is bodied forth from God and sustained in life by the breath of God” (148). So, even if other parts of creation are much more adept at living into the interdependence and relationality suggested by our shared origin, humanity is likely the only part that is conscious of this story and its ramifications. And while much of history demonstrates how some people have seen this as a superiority that has given license to commodify and corrupt the rest of the natural world for their (short-term) benefit, it actually thrusts upon all of us the responsibility of stewardship.
Having articulated a new understanding of humanity, McFague turns her attention to a fresh model for God. Building off of Christian affirmations of embodiment via the divine incarnation in Jesus and ongoing sacramentality, McFague takes a creative leap from these particularized instances of physicality towards a vision of the entire cosmos as the body of God. It bears repeating that her methodology is explicitly metaphorical; McFague clarifies that this is not a literal description, but rather an attempt to infuse our theological imagination with new aesthetic and ethical functions. She associates the former with immanent transcendence and the latter with transcendent immanence (133-134). Rather than relying on metaphors of transcendence that render God distant or otherwise abstracted from the human experience, a more immanent sense of the cosmos as God’s embodiment elicits an intuitive overwhelm at the expansiveness (temporarily, spatially, and across the manifold diversity of bodies) and awe at the complexity and grandeur on display. And by affirming God’s embodiment across all bodies, rather than solely that of Jesus, divine immanence takes on a transcendent multiplicity while remaining as available and near to us as our own body and breath.
The final major move of The Body of God is to consider how Christology might shape these reconfigurations of Christian anthropology and theology. McFague diverges from advocates of creation spirituality and natural theology in her reluctance to ascribe a teleogical aim apparent in our scientific sensibilities of the evolutionary process. Though she agrees that God is embodied by and enlivens every part of creation, she sees evidence of confirmation bias that ignores the chaos, contingency, and immense suffering inherent to natural selection amongst those who see nature as evidence of God’s redemptive plan for the world. Instead, she argues that Christians must commit to a willful wager of faith in trusting that it is Christ who offers a salvific vision of the direction of creation (160). For Christians, Jesus serves as either the singular or most distinctive incarnation of God, and therefore his life, ministry, and teachings provide the most paradigmatic model for God’s character, purpose, and desires.
McFague looks to Christ and sees a trajectory towards liberation and justice exemplified in his ministry of parables which destabilize hierarchies, healings which bring about embodied restoration, and table fellowship that promotes radical inclusion of all. Further, the primary benefactor across these practices is always the oppressed, marginalized, vulnerable, and needy (167-169). Building off of her previous refusal to prioritize humanity over the rest of creation, she then argues that in the Anthropocene, the natural world has emerged as a new category of the oppressed, and in line with her view of Christ, this elevates her concern for the world from a sentimental plea for stewardship to a righteous mandate for solidarity (166). This is manifest through the active work of resisting eco-injustice and the passive work of suffering with the planet in instances when this fails. She associates the former with Christ’s aforementioned ministerial practices and the latter with his death on the cross, evidence of God’s commitment to suffer with creation which is understood at new depths when we consider God to be embodied by all bodies, including those enduring excruciating pain and destruction (176-178). More tenuously, however, she also looks to Christ’s resurrection as the basis for “hope against hope” in the “basic trustworthiness at the heart of existence; that life, not death, is the last word; that against all evidence to the contrary (and most evidence is to the contrary), all our efforts…will not be defeated. It is the belief that the source and power of the universe is on the side of life and its fulfillment” (191).
Though it is almost certainly bound to alienate Christians more committed to theological orthodoxy early on, The Body of God offers a vivid, creative, and potentially generative model of God with multiple strengths. Most centrally, it carries an ethical core that reorients Christians to attend to and care for the earth as both a mandated extension of Jesus’s ministry and a means of loving God’s embodied presence. Guided by a driving sense that what we believe shapes what we do, her hope is that when the earth is believed to be sacred, its desecration becomes a more serious sin, and its protection an act of fidelity and worship. More tangentially, it also features a compelling pastoral and theodical dimensions emphasizing God’s immanent nearness coupled with a more accessible means of relating to God’s transcendence. Further, its focus on the fundamental interdependence and relationality of all creation and the “welcome home” it offers to demographics of humanity who have felt alienated from the planet for centuries invite new postures towards the environment that are simultaneously intuitive and revelatory. When considering the Wesleyan quadrilateral, it is apparent that McFague relies heavily on experience and reason (understood as consultation with scientific communities) at the expense of rigorous or even considered engagement with Scripture and tradition. Yet she acknowledges these shortcomings and links them with her perceived need for Christianity to incorporate adaptive, corrective perspectives in response to the crises of the moment. Her work here depicts one impassioned, thorough, imaginative, and alluring attempt to do so.
February 20, 2013
McFague describes a panentheistic vision of God - the whole universe as God's body empowered by the divine spirit. McFague develops such an alternative 'organic model' in response to the ecological crisis and what she believes as a 'common story of creation'. In the process she rejects classical notions of the 'church as the body of God' citing its' anthropocentric exclusivity as a reason and several models of who God is, namely deism, dialogic, monarchical and agential. She emphasises the range of God's inclusive love for all of creation and especially for the oppressed. With a 'cosmic Christ', suffering also happens to God and not just to us, McFague argues. Such a new vision would lead to a renewed, better word as it underscores interdependence and independence, how to live within the scheme of things, seeing salvation as meeting the basic, physical needs of earth's creatures, solidarity with the oppressed, and humans' special vocation as stewards. McFague's desire to live responsibly on this planet needs to be welcomed. Humanity has indeed taken its freedom to such extreme levels that many of the God's creatures are suffering. But, McFague's next pragmatic step of constructing a model of God that suits a vision of planetary responsibility is not convincing when compared to God as revealed to us in Scripture.
March 29, 2021
I found some aspects of this book repetitive, however Mcfague makes an outstanding case for embodiment of the cosmos as the body of God. She passionately includes all bodies in her theology and advocates for seeing God in all humanity and nature.
Her really theology comes into its own though when she incorporates christology. Through this model the God embodied as Jesus of Nazareth is one who embodies liberation, healing and inclusion as the primary acts (as in his life) and suffering (as in Gethsemane, his grieving, and death) in our striving and when our primary efforts are not enough, which is inevitable in this world. She also incorporates the ressurection as that hope against hope that death is not the final answer and that life will prevail over death.
Facing the current planetary devastation known as climate change, this is a powerful model that enables us to understand our common origins and follow Jesus to act now care for each other, our planet, all bodies in the here and now rather than focusing on promises in another world and time.
Her really theology comes into its own though when she incorporates christology. Through this model the God embodied as Jesus of Nazareth is one who embodies liberation, healing and inclusion as the primary acts (as in his life) and suffering (as in Gethsemane, his grieving, and death) in our striving and when our primary efforts are not enough, which is inevitable in this world. She also incorporates the ressurection as that hope against hope that death is not the final answer and that life will prevail over death.
Facing the current planetary devastation known as climate change, this is a powerful model that enables us to understand our common origins and follow Jesus to act now care for each other, our planet, all bodies in the here and now rather than focusing on promises in another world and time.
August 3, 2018
As other reviewers have noted, The Body of God is a challenge to read. I think that is primarily due to the radical (and she uses the word as well) paradigm shift. It takes a careful eye to distinguish where she departs from the ordinary path and it also helps to have some background in process theology and postmodernism. She takes for granted, for instance, that the reader understands what it means to "de-construct." The Body of God does open some tantalizing possibilities for an eco-theology.
January 10, 2013
What McFague sets out to do, she does well. With her scientifically formed conceptualizations and characteristic creativity, she builds on her earlier work of theological metaphor and ecological consideration into a sweeping rethinking of theology. Panentheism is not new, but her justifications and explications seem fresh and visionary.
As a political theology this work was underdeveloped. It failed to give much concreteness to the situation of the oppressed, and because her connection to biblical Christianity is so thin she was unable to draw much from the image of God as liberator. Her God, in fact, was eminently sympathetic – to the point of being a victim - but anemic, weak, and unable to effect the eschatological vision which seemed to have been included almost as a compulsary final word. Setting aside differences between her and I regarding religious epistemology (differences which are deep and wide), I found McFague’s panentheism mostly coherent but not convincing. She admits that she cannot reconcile the Christic image with the evolution that she believes is the process of God’s creative action in the world: this she hardly addresses, but it is an obvious problem of theodicy. The suffering Christ she dismisses is both victim and victor: the Christ that Sallie McFague (and her theology) truly need.
As a political theology this work was underdeveloped. It failed to give much concreteness to the situation of the oppressed, and because her connection to biblical Christianity is so thin she was unable to draw much from the image of God as liberator. Her God, in fact, was eminently sympathetic – to the point of being a victim - but anemic, weak, and unable to effect the eschatological vision which seemed to have been included almost as a compulsary final word. Setting aside differences between her and I regarding religious epistemology (differences which are deep and wide), I found McFague’s panentheism mostly coherent but not convincing. She admits that she cannot reconcile the Christic image with the evolution that she believes is the process of God’s creative action in the world: this she hardly addresses, but it is an obvious problem of theodicy. The suffering Christ she dismisses is both victim and victor: the Christ that Sallie McFague (and her theology) truly need.
May 25, 2016
I found understanding Sallie McFague’s, “The Body of God” a provocative yet difficult tome to
complete. Most of the problem was mine as it seemed more appropriate for scholarly consumption. Definitely not for a layman unless very conversant with the vernacular of
theologic/philosophic unique words and concepts.
From the beginning McFague paints the perimeters of her main ideas and the reader soon
realizes that this is not an attempt to develop some new truths about God rather another way of
conceptualizing about that which is the I AM. Numerous times she illustrates by calling it, “the back side of God and not the Face”.
She appears to be an early proponent for “green” attitudes toward taking care of Mother Earth, so Mother Earth can take care of us. Though she implies that the Spirit is in and through all, mankind is that part that is capable of self reflection and must bear the responsibility for nurturing his Earth home while simultaneously being a part of the mind and will of the Creator.
Those who have deterministic/logical/scientific ways of thinking will probably not be inclined to
complete it once the groundwork is fully understood. Those who are more mystically inclined will find much to reflect on.
complete. Most of the problem was mine as it seemed more appropriate for scholarly consumption. Definitely not for a layman unless very conversant with the vernacular of
theologic/philosophic unique words and concepts.
From the beginning McFague paints the perimeters of her main ideas and the reader soon
realizes that this is not an attempt to develop some new truths about God rather another way of
conceptualizing about that which is the I AM. Numerous times she illustrates by calling it, “the back side of God and not the Face”.
She appears to be an early proponent for “green” attitudes toward taking care of Mother Earth, so Mother Earth can take care of us. Though she implies that the Spirit is in and through all, mankind is that part that is capable of self reflection and must bear the responsibility for nurturing his Earth home while simultaneously being a part of the mind and will of the Creator.
Those who have deterministic/logical/scientific ways of thinking will probably not be inclined to
complete it once the groundwork is fully understood. Those who are more mystically inclined will find much to reflect on.
July 26, 2021
Whew. I finished.
Perhaps I’m not smart enough to get what she’s talking about. Maybe I don’t know the purpose of an essay (which I thought was supposed to be short). Maybe I was waiting for something profound.
What a long book. I think it could have been condensed quite a bit. I’m still not sure what I’m supposed to think: whether the universe is the body of God or we should just remember how small and yet how large we are in the cosmos.
This made me really appreciate writers like Dr. Matthew Sleeth and Dr. Sandra Richter. Both are very academic, yet they write in a way that is accessible to the lay person and the theologically trained.
Perhaps I’m not smart enough to get what she’s talking about. Maybe I don’t know the purpose of an essay (which I thought was supposed to be short). Maybe I was waiting for something profound.
What a long book. I think it could have been condensed quite a bit. I’m still not sure what I’m supposed to think: whether the universe is the body of God or we should just remember how small and yet how large we are in the cosmos.
This made me really appreciate writers like Dr. Matthew Sleeth and Dr. Sandra Richter. Both are very academic, yet they write in a way that is accessible to the lay person and the theologically trained.
May 26, 2021
3.5 stars. McFague explores the metaphor of creation as the body of God and follows it through its implications for understanding our relation to and responsibility for nature, the earth, other humans, creation, and the cosmos. She has some beautiful insights regarding the crucial nature of embodiment in understanding and recognizing God in creation, and her perspective really shines in the chapter on Christology, but overall the book is unnecessarily repetitive and a bit underwhelming.
October 13, 2018
This changed how I think about God and about environmental justice. I’m not a Christian but I still loved her ideas. Highly recommend.
July 20, 2024
A THEOLOGICAL VIEW OF THE UNIVERSE AS "GOD'S BODY”
Sallie McFague (born 1933) is an American feminist Christian theologian, who has written other books such as 'Super, Natural Christians,' 'Models of God,' 'Metaphorical Theology: Models of God in Religious Language,' etc.
She wrote in the Introduction to this 1993 book, "The present essay... attempts to look at everything through one lens, the model of the universe or world as God's body... (a model) that is neglected, essential, illuminating, and helpful both to Christian doctrinal reformulation and to planetary well-being." Later, she adds, "Body, then, is the model I suggest we investigate thoroughly as possible for an ecological theology." (Pg. 17)
She concedes, however, that we can accept reductionism as a successful method of research as well as the physical base of all levels of nonliving and living entities "and, at the same time, opt for the holistic, organic view as the picture of reality or metaphysics with which theology should be in conversation." (Pg. 93) She suggests that the model of the body of God "can serve as a unifying metaphor, encompassing in scope both creation and salvation---the liberation, healing, and fulfillment of all bodies." (Pg. 135)
She argues that "we should not use natural evil as a smokescreen to hide the real ecological problem: human selfishness and greed... biological and cultural evolution---or natural evil and sin---are now inextricably joined with us. The distinction between them is blurred, for natural evils seldom occur in our time without human complicity. And it is the latter for which we are responsible and that lie within our power to change." (Pg. 177)
Starting from the "Cosmic Christ" image, she states, "Our model is unlimited at one end and restrictive at the other: the entire cosmos is the habitat of God, but we can know this only through the mediation of the physical world." (Pg. 182-183)
This book will be of interest to persons looking for creative modern approaches to theology.
Sallie McFague (born 1933) is an American feminist Christian theologian, who has written other books such as 'Super, Natural Christians,' 'Models of God,' 'Metaphorical Theology: Models of God in Religious Language,' etc.
She wrote in the Introduction to this 1993 book, "The present essay... attempts to look at everything through one lens, the model of the universe or world as God's body... (a model) that is neglected, essential, illuminating, and helpful both to Christian doctrinal reformulation and to planetary well-being." Later, she adds, "Body, then, is the model I suggest we investigate thoroughly as possible for an ecological theology." (Pg. 17)
She concedes, however, that we can accept reductionism as a successful method of research as well as the physical base of all levels of nonliving and living entities "and, at the same time, opt for the holistic, organic view as the picture of reality or metaphysics with which theology should be in conversation." (Pg. 93) She suggests that the model of the body of God "can serve as a unifying metaphor, encompassing in scope both creation and salvation---the liberation, healing, and fulfillment of all bodies." (Pg. 135)
She argues that "we should not use natural evil as a smokescreen to hide the real ecological problem: human selfishness and greed... biological and cultural evolution---or natural evil and sin---are now inextricably joined with us. The distinction between them is blurred, for natural evils seldom occur in our time without human complicity. And it is the latter for which we are responsible and that lie within our power to change." (Pg. 177)
Starting from the "Cosmic Christ" image, she states, "Our model is unlimited at one end and restrictive at the other: the entire cosmos is the habitat of God, but we can know this only through the mediation of the physical world." (Pg. 182-183)
This book will be of interest to persons looking for creative modern approaches to theology.
November 28, 2021
An excellent synthesis of all the most useful contributions Christianity has to offer for us as beings in a planet full of injustice. By taking the embodied nature of all experience of reality as a basis for interpreting God and creation, McFague lifts up the purpose of religion from personal to planetary. My only major criticisms are: that "overpopulation" is considered a threat without put in the context of systemic capitalism and resource hoarding - in order to be in solidarity with all bodies, eugenics cannot be an option. And: that sin is still defined through a form of desire rather than as a violation of joy or consent. But these in no way diminish the power of the Body of God as a model that Christianity definitely needs if it is to become a force for good rather than evil.
January 27, 2023
McFague does the job of a theologian well when she argues that Creation is the body of God: she captures a great deal of complexity about reality in a relatively simple and usable model. This is a model that "fits" snuggly both in the discoveries of modernity and the ancient Christian tradition—basically THE project for theologians today. One critique is that I did not find her to be particularly clear or brave when it came to needed economic and political reform in response to climate change.
November 22, 2019
Interesting read and well worth the time for those who might see the connection between our life on this planet, our responsibility towards it (and others and the impact therein), and the belief that God is embodied in creation. Referenced by Richard Rohr -- hint: this provides excellent insights to Universal Christ.
I also enjoyed the meditation on Exodus 33:23b.
I also enjoyed the meditation on Exodus 33:23b.
July 6, 2021
What a joy to discover this still has its punch and doesn't feel dated nearly 30 years on!
June 26, 2009
I had a lot more difficulty with this book than I did the previous work I read by McFague. While in principle I agree with the need for such exercises as the one she undertakes here - outlining a potential model of God, in order to get us to "think differently," to help establish a paradigm shift allowing for the possibility of an embodiment or incarnational theology - overall I found the project as executed somewhat frustrating. Mainly I think this comes from unresolved epistemological questions. But most of all, with as much revision as she brings into the Christian tradition, it remains unclear to me why she stays within the Christian framework or uses it as her starting point.
Furthermore, her conception of sin as something committed against to bodies seems to me to require a discussion of communal bodies (organizations such as the church) and the sin they commit, and how this in turn might affect our using the traditions established by the church as guidance in doing theological work. This would be a quite natural discussion in this book, but it just didn't happen.
Still, she raises a number of important questions for modern Christian theology. I think I just wanted to see them argued for more rigorously, rather than simply described.
Furthermore, her conception of sin as something committed against to bodies seems to me to require a discussion of communal bodies (organizations such as the church) and the sin they commit, and how this in turn might affect our using the traditions established by the church as guidance in doing theological work. This would be a quite natural discussion in this book, but it just didn't happen.
Still, she raises a number of important questions for modern Christian theology. I think I just wanted to see them argued for more rigorously, rather than simply described.
February 26, 2016
Good book on ecological theology, proposing the creation as the body of God. McFague talks a lot about bodies and spatial relationships, as distinct from our usual emphasis on temporality. I think she makes some good points, useful stuff going forward as we reground theology incarnationally and immanentally.
Currently reading
August 30, 2010I am reading this great book again!
August 3, 2010
I wish it had more history in it.
March 16, 2015
Not an easy book, but very interesting.
March 9, 2015
3.5 Stars
Displaying 1 - 21 of 21 reviews