THE CATHEDRAL OF THE MOST DIVINE BODIES OF THE MARTYRS IN HEAVENLY ECSTASY

Research and Themes

The research for this work started with an examination of potential moments of queerness within the Bible so that I might envision a new form of queer theology that could be represented through art. This led to examining the imagery of the Eucharist. This ceremony, commanded in the Gospels by Jesus, underpins all forms of worship. Church architecture is centered around the altar, which was inspired by the dining table. Transformed into a highly stylized ritual, the Eucharist, as instituted, was a call to remember Christ by partaking in a meal. Jesus, at the Feast of the Passover, broke bread and said this represented his body and then blessed a cup of wine, saying this was his blood. Catholic teaching holds that the Apostles believed the bread and wine physically transformed—transubstantiated—and became the actual flesh and blood of Jesus as they consumed it. While it might be easier to argue a cannibalistic reading (the Romans did), I believe that the ritual importance elevates this to imagery of fellatio. It is a ritual of receiving the body through the mouth. The priest, after blessing the bread, places it on the participant’s tongue in an act of penetration. It was common in Catholic tradition prior to the reforms of the late 20th century and is still common in traditions such as the Scottish Episcopal Church to kneel before the priest offering communion, further enhancing the imagery of fellatio.
The final night of Jesus’ life is rife with other homoerotic undertones as well. Particularly the washing of the Disciples’ feet. I argue that the act of washing the feet is a euphemism for sexual intercourse between Jesus and his followers. Feet are commonly used as a euphemism for genitalia in the Bible: Ezekiel 16 conveys Jerusalem as a harlot and charges her with uncovering her feet for whoever is interested, 1 Samuel 24 depicts Saul urinating in a cave, but describes him “covering his feet,” and Ruth 3 depicts Ruth seducing Boaz into marriage by uncovering his feet. This imagery persists in John 13, where Jesus washes the feet of the disciples.
First, Jesus removed his clothes, wrapped himself in a towel, and then began to wash the feet of each disciple. Then, when he is finished, he dries the feet of each disciple with the towel he has draped around his naked body. Ezekiel 16 and Ruth 3 make explicit reference to turning up the corner of a garment as a further implication of sexual intercourse. To dry their feet, Jesus would have had to turn up the corner of his towel-cum-garment to dry their feet. Which further enhances the innuendo and support for this reading. There is also a status element to consider. Most scholars consider Jesus doing this as an act of servitude akin to a servant for a master, as is traditional at the time, but it was also common for women to wash men’s feet as a devotional act. I believe that is what is happening here: Jesus showing devotion as a wife.
Scholars like Tat-Siong Benny Liew will argue a potential queering of gender here. Still, in many ways, this reinforces a heteronormative view of the relationship between Christ and his followers. Instead, I see Jesus as the receptive sexual partner, bottom, to use the colloquial term. This gets further enhanced in the imagery of Jesus being pierced in the side by the spear of the Roman soldier after his crucifixion. Similar imagery exists with Saint Sebastian, who has been explicitly appropriated by gay culture. This reflection and interpretation of the crucifixion led my research into thoughts on proposing a new queer theology and building a church for it to inhabit.
These church elements become enjoined with imagery from locker rooms. Just like a church, I consider the locker room a source of simultaneous homophobia and homoerotica. Like the church, the locker room has also featured in many forms of gay fetish and kink fantasies. This also provided an additional angle for Jesus’ foot-washing. A common trope found in gay pornography surrounding locker rooms is a man smelling the socks and shoes of another man—generally covertly. These act as an imbued object standing in for the original man. Socks are also used by Robert Rauschenberg for the same reason in his Combines, as noted by Jonathan Katz and Lisa Wainwright. Carrying through the religious metaphor, I consider these socks and shoes to be reliquaries.
In the Catholic tradition, reliquaries hold body parts or objects closely related to saints and martyrs. They are intercessory devices, meaning one can use them during prayer, and the saint or martyr is said to intercede on your behalf to God. It is a requirement for a Catholic church altar to have the relics of at least two figures, and many churches feature numerous relics and reliquaries in different spaces of the church and side chapels. Relics of famous saints or objects, such as the cross Jesus was crucified on, were significant tourist attractions and would bring importance to the church that held them. Inspired by this work, I decided to create reliquaries that would speak to specific sexual experiences. These particular moments of intimacy are over, and all that remains are the physical artifacts. The first person I had sex with asked to trade underwear, and that was something I decided to keep doing to have trophies of those connections.
Ultimately, these elements all combine to create the image of a cathedral: flowers and lockers rise towards the sky like great Gothic spires, locker interiors become chapels and altar spaces, collages become church paintings and stained glass telling stories to the viewer, and sound becomes constant liturgy celebrating divine pleasure. I have placed myself as God of this all because the current God seems to have failed at their creation. Ultimately, this work elucidates a new theology; I hope you choose to join.