I Prefer a Theology

I prefer a theology whose hair you can run your fingers through while stars shoot overhead.

I prefer a theology that sits on the sidewalk with a McDonald’s cup in its hand, waiting for you to reach into your pocket and find a crinkled bill.

The one that gives blind people colors and deaf people song.

Because there are too many theologies that enjoy distance and ask you for some space. Or others that merely sit in rooms and talk about economics. And memorize things.

But I prefer the theology whose makeup runs when she cries over yet another orphan.

The one that pulls your hair behind your ears when you’re drunk (again), or holds you after looking at porn (again) because it loves you as you are, not as you should be.

A theology that sells everything (including the car and phone) so that God doesn’t seem as far away. A theology that’s dependent.

I don’t really like a theology that lives in the past. The one that tells me ‘God could have done this or that…’ A theology of scales and balances and measures.

I prefer a living theology over a dead one.

So I guess I prefer Jesus over theology.

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