Well, I'm writing a pretty filthy prose poem that reenvisions the immaculate conception as not so immaculate. [Edit: My religions expert sister-in-law tells me that "immaculate conception" refers to Mary's lack of original sin rather than Jesus' birth. Rookie mistake, and my apologies.] I'm trying to make it satirical so as to avoid the likely pitfalls of having it come across as overly sentimental, purposely shocking, pornographic, or overtly feminist. The thing is, even if no one ever reads it and I am too mortified to ever show it to another human being (this is highly, highly probable), it's still fun to write.
In a sense, though, it is a rather feminist undertaking. I initially thought to myself, in somewhat biblical language, "Why should God have thrust unto Mary all consequence and no pleasurable causation?" Throw the girl a bone, as it were. She's the mother of your child. Oh, because she ought to be above pursuing her baser imperativ-- excuse me, desires?
This is precisely where the atheist and the religious person differ; if there is no god, there is no impetus to deny one's sexuality in adherence to a divinely structured morality. By extension, there is no reason to avoid deriving enjoyment from sexuality. Given that sex is a healthy biological function, it's an understandably uncomfortable thing to forgo. If there is no exterior motivation to abstain (we have the technology to remain relatively safe these days and, in this particular case, I doubt that the lord has any STIs), why would you? From my perspective of disbelief (and non-motherhood, to boot!), it seems unfair to ask a young woman to bear a child without that most fundamental biological bribe.
The virgin birth myth is not one that began with Christianity, however, so apparently lots of women around the mediterranean were once impregnated without so much as one lousy caress. There's something funny -- in both the "comical" and the "weird" senses of the word -- about that. I'm going to explore it in my super secret prose poem.
