It is one supposes, on some days, at some times, possible,
theologically speaking, to imagine a god who has
no body. God of Ideals. God of Spirit. God of Thought. God of
No Thing therefore God of Nothing. God, what a tragedy
that a human, all flesh and bone in her world of wood and
stone, water and earth, could be so disembodied herself
that she conceives a divinity without a body
without its creaks and hungers, without its desires and demons,
without taste buds, without a pulse to quicken
to pound visibly in the throat when the scent of the one she needs
overwhelms all sense. To love an idea can be quite quite satisfying
but only the body, beloved,
is holy, holy, holy.
What is Holy
What is holy to us is that which we apprehend by the senses, touch in its fleshly life; what is untouched, pristine, exists in idea only. The idea is not holy in the way its incarnation is. To be holy, something must exist in relationship: it must smell, prickle, moan.
Nett Hart from Spirited Lesbians: Lesbian Desire as Social Action