I shall develop the thesis that symbolism is an essential factor in the way we function as the result of our direct knowledge.  Successful high-grade organisms are only possible, on the condition that their symbolic functionings are usually justified so far as important issues are concerned.  But the errors of mankind equally spring from symbolism.  It is the task of reason to understand and purge the symbols on which humanity depends. (A. N. Whitehead,  Symbolism: Its Meaning And Effect, Barbour Page Lectures, 1927.)


We have been examining the gospel of Luke more or less according to its sequential order. Here however, it is necessary to change tack. For what resides well and truly not only within the scope of any discussion of his theology, as essentially one of desire and faith-in-desire, but sits at its core, is the signifying body. This is central quite literally to a Christian theory of semiotics and of language. The body and indeed the desiring body, are foundational categories of Christian theology. Luke's project harmonizes with the Johannine theological programme, which will entail consideration of the complementary modes of intentionality, desire-to-know and faith. So we must now elaborate the systematic theology of the body and of touch as it is posed in the Markan healing miracles. We shall consider these twelve texts as the sources for Luke's own recensions, and examine both gospels in what follows. Where possible, we shall refer also to the other synoptic parallel, Matthew, and to the relevant Johannine texts.

We shall equally refer to the ideas, or rather, to the idea of the body, the soma, and the perceptual data of the touched body, as somatic and haptic, respectively, along with their cognates: somatikon, (pl. somatika), haptikon, (pl. haptika). (I shall use the expressions somatikon/somatika to refer to the signification of the conceptual pole of consciousness by the relevant bodily signs, and the expressions  haptikon/haptika to refer to those bodily semeia which signify conceptual radicals.) The latter terms denote the twelve bodily members, those disjunctive and synthetic units of the body, which serve the reflection of the self or mind in consciousness. These twelve somatic or bodily semeia, all of which are susceptible of touch, hence the terms 'somatika' and 'haptika', are those members of the body articulated in each of the twelve Markan healing miracles, referentially to each of the twelve categoreal forms which consitute the anatomy of consciousness. We are contending that the gospel of Luke is intimately theologically informed by both components of consciousness, the concept of the body, and the perceptual data of haptic memory, and that his gospel manifests a vested interest in the meaning of the role of both in salvation. The categoreal forms or radicals of consciousness are the subjects of the Day 4 rubric and the story of the miracle at Cana respectively. Any discussion of Luke's soteriological convictions must address such facts and address also the systematic deployment of the remaining cardinal elements of consciousness in the remaining three gospels. The basis of this thesis remains primarily both narrative cycles, Genesis 1.1-2.4a and the messianic series, taken as they are intended to be, jointly. It is confirmed by the twelve healing miracles in the gospel of Mark, which recapitulate the twelve categories of both polarities, conceptual and perceptual. These same categories, both conceptual and perceptual, are again outlined in the numerical details of the three immanent messianic miracles, as well as in the miracles of Transfiguration and Transformation Of Water Into Wine. The two stories of healings relevant to the specific epistemological and psychological perspective of Luke are as noted: Jairus' Daughter, and The Man With The Withered  Hand, both of which are present in Luke as well as Mark and Matthew. These texts thus remain central to our method. We shall review also at least those sections of The Apocalypse which clearly pertain to the same formal aspects of biblical theology. In Luke's case, they are contained within the last quarter of that book, beginning with the series of seven vials (Apocalypse 15.1), although its complex integrity and intertextuality demands our recognition of other sections of the book, as well as other scriptures.

Beginning with Luke, and so too with those semiotic forms belonging to the Christological categories of virtual and actual immanence, namely, the body and touch, whereby we mean respectively the virtually subjective body which actively touches, and the body as the actual object of touch, stands us in good stead regarding not just a developmental psychology, of which we saw overtones in the story of Jairus' Daughter, but also for the development of a linguistic/semiotic theory. This study initially recognised the pattern of a theology of perception implicit in the proclivity of the creation story, the messianic series, and The Apocalypse, for one specific phenomenal mode: respectively, the acoustic, the haptic and the optic. We noticed their syntactical co-ordination in their ascription to 'the word of life' contained in the opening of the first letter of John. We should recall here also the rationale of this arrangement, which is recapitulated numerically in the repeated ciphers of the relevant messianic miracle stories : 5, The Feeding Of The Five Thousand;  6, The Transformation Of Water Into Wine and The Transfiguration; and 7, The Feeding Of The Four Thousand. This same order integrates the three phenomenal modes of perception according to their reiteration of the categoreal paradigm - transcendence : immanence. The world spoken into existence bespeaks Transcendence, and the acoustic semiosis bears this out. Acoustika are weighted in favour of transcendence. The repeated 'five' in The Feeding Of The Five Thousand, and the specific mention of 'two fish' certainly return us to the paired rubrics, Days 2, Day 5, which nominate space and space : time respectively as the two conceptual categories pre-eminently exemplifying transcendence. At the opposite end of this scale, the 'sevens' of the second and last miracle of loaves, are evidence of immanence proper. That narrative designates the structural characteristics of the perceptual radicals, chiefly optic memory and optic imagination, exemplifying immanence to the paramount degree, and so concerns the theological implications of the optika. Colours are susceptible of being knitted together seamlessly; they are our best semiological guide to unity. This is not the case with the acoustic semeia. Somewhere between these two poles, reformulating the dialectic of identity : unity, stand the somatika, or haptika. Here we have to deal equally with the conceptual, the mind and mind : body as  categories of transcendence, and equally with the perceptual, the haptic memory and haptic imagination, their immanent counterparts. This is so, because the Christological radicals of consciousness are not predisposed in virtue of either transcendence nor immanence. They manifest both terms of the categoreal paradigm to an equal extent. This is what we mean by describing as 'disjunctive and synthetic', both the somatika, those members of the body representative in consciousness of conceptual forms, and the haptika, those members of the body representative in consciousness of perceptual forms


The notion of 'embodied cognition' is at once congenial to the doctrine of the incarnation of the logos. But cognition alone is restrictive of the four epistemic modes of intentionality. The conceptual form of the body itself is responsible for what we have called faith-in-desire. It is germane to the discussion of the gospel of Luke, and immediately relevant to the theology of haptic semiotic forms. Faith-in-desire is essentially an epistemic function of consciousness, a form of understanding, or a 'cognitive' mode of intentionality. In saying this, we mean to postulate its direct difference from conation. We therefore need to expand the notion of embodied cognition. A haptic sign or haptikon exists for every single categoreal form. Thus there is a haptic sign for each of the six conceptual forms and each of the six perceptual forms. The relation of these same twelve radicals to the twelve modes of intentionality has already been put. Thus the haptic sign for the category also serves to identify the mode of intentionality proper to that category. There are twelve such modes of intentionality in all, and knowing is but one of these. Thus the role of the body in consciousness is much greater than merely cognitive. There is no valid counter argument to the suggestion that desire as well as knowing is a form of intentionality which derives from the embodied nature of existence. But we are contending here that the soma, meaning the twelve members of the body which signify the radical categories of consciousness, formulates all modes of intentionality, not just these two purely physical (perceptual) ones. For it formulates, that is, it 'incarnates' all six conceptual and six perceptual categoreal entities from which these derive. Hence the body establishes the entire panoply of intentionality insofar as its signifying capacity encompasses not just knowing and desire, but all such intentional modes. Details of which are contained within the twelvefold series of healing miracles in the gospel of Mark. There is a sense in which even belief as an epistemic mode, a form of intentionality, is related to the soma, to the body. We have for this reason begun the exposition of the theology of semiotic forms, with Luke, and with the intentional modes which permeate that gospel, to wit, desire, and belief-in-desire. Although the non-normative status of the latter will mean that it must defer to belief simpliciter, the conscious intentional mode, for its final explication.

The importance of the formal propositional features of the creation narrative first occupied our attention in pursuit of the meaning of the messianic miracles. The latter as the isomorphic 'end' to the former, the story of 'beginning', reaffirmed these same structural characteristics, and supplemented them. In the analysis of the modes of antithesis in the P narrative, we arrived at the point of having detected the Christological 'polarity of polarities'. The three disparate modes of antithesis were discussed, and referred to as disjunctive or transcendent, conjunctive or immanent, and notably, the third and Christological form of antithesis was in some manner the concatenation of these two forms of polarity. Thus the categoreal paradigm 'the heavens and the earth' was reiterated in these three antithetical modes. These modes of antithesis in turn reflect the essential natures of space as innately transcendent, the anthropic as immanent, and the psychophysical as both. In just this way the given propensity of the latter reflects both the copula of that formula 'the heavens and the earth', as well as the internal structure of the creation story. This form of antithesis sits at the heart of the narrative as it is presented to us in its three compositional binaries. The binaries themselves mirror the inclusio 'the heavens and the earth', the categoreal paradigm.

The same contours we discovered within the organic form of the messianic series, even though that series replaces the parallelism of the Genesis text, with the chiasmos. Moreover, it is only with this the 'end' series that we come to the full understanding of the conjunctive form of antithesis. We thus concluded that the forms of memory each include their opposites, the corresponding form of imagination. So haptic memory is conjoined with haptic imagination, optic memory with optic imagination and acoustic memory with acoustic imagination. There is no severing of the union between an actual perceptual radical. That is, a form of memory consists necessarily in conjunction with its corresponding form of imagination. That said, it is also the case that the forms of imagination obtain in themselves independently of their synthesis with memory. This occurs after the reality of transcendence. Even so, these same forms of imagination remain virtual in their transcendence, relative to the transcendence of the pure conceptual forms. The three pure conceptual forms are categories of actual transcendence. So that the same three radicals of actual transcendence and the three categories of actual immanence constitute the conscious mind. This is tantamount to their definition as 'normative' for consciousness. The three categories of virtual transcendence and the three categories of virtual immanence, the forms of imagination and the forms of unity respectively, constitute the aconscious. The same differentiation between conscious and aconscious, or normative and non-normative radicals, can be expressed in terms of the difference between intrinsic and extrinsic value. This is a useful definition when contrasting parallel pairs, for example, those which confront us in the case of Luke, the soma and haptic memory. It is the perceptual form, haptic memory and not the conceptual form, the body, which intrinsically or actually expresses the (immanent) value goodness.

The important logical or structural aspect of the creation series which was also sustained by the messianic series, the fact of more than one mode of antithesis, is pertinent to the somatic/haptic semiosis, to Christological semiotics. That particular polarity or form of antithesis which ultimately adjoins the disjunctive antithesis of the transcendent ('heavens') half of the creation story - consisting of Days 1, 2, and 3 - to the conjunctive antithesis of Days 4, 5, 6 and 7 - the immanent ('earthly') theology of creation - we described as Christological. Its fuller import was not fully intelligible until we examined the analogous morphology of the messianic series and  the theology of sense-percipience. So the final depiction of the Christological form of antithesis in the messianic series completes the tally of the three conceptual binaries of the first narrative with the three analogous perceptual binaries of the last. The last three are perceptual in kind, adjoining mnemic and imaginal radicals of one and the same sense-percipient mode, haptic memory to haptic imagination and so on. Thus the polarity of polarities, the Christological antithetical mode which itself consists of antithetical modes, both transcendent and immanent, disjunctive and conjunctive, is now fully set out in the gospel with the final disclosures of the messianic events. For just as in the first case, for example, Day 1 and Day 4, we found the relation of a disjunctive mind - Day 1 - set against a conjunctive mind : body - Day 4 - so too in the second, we find a disjunctive form of imagination - Transfiguration - set against a conjunctive form of memory - Transformation Of Water Into Wine. The Christological form of antithesis therefore co-ordinates the two oppositional forms of antithesis, disjunctive or transcendent and conjunctive or immanent. In this sense, it is a polarity consisting of polarities, a mode of antithesis composed of modes of antithesis. As well as accounting for the intensive structure of the creation series and the messianic series, that is, for the conceptual polarity of consciousness and the perceptual polarity also, it co-ordinates these very polarities themselves. Since it also posits the extensive relation of the six conceptual forms of the creation narrative to the corresponding six perceptual forms whose classical exposition is the messianic series. (An example of the four-eight most common forms of antithesis is given below.)
These matters in full need not concern us here, but it is necessary to note the precise nature of the semeihaptika, especially since we have to broach initially those signifying the anthropic category. We have already said that the anthropic category, whether the conceptual radicals symbolic masculine and symbolic feminine, or the perceptual radicals, optic memory and optic imagination, are weighted in favour of immanence. It follows from this that the specific form of antithetical relation in either case is the immanent. That judgement stands, but it does not follow that the signs for these, the first two of which are phallos and uterus, signify unvaryingly, the same form of antithesis; the conjunctive oppositionality of immanence, echoing the term 'earth' of the inclusio. Neither does it follow that all of the haptic-somatic signs are biased in virtue of immanence rather than transcendence. The chief quality of the semeihaptika is their equal exemplification of transcendence and immanence, of identity and unity. This is roundly and formally declared in the fundamental numerical details of the Christologies: The Transformation Of Water Into Wine and the Transfiguration. The repetition of the figure six in the first narrative, leaves us in no doubt. Six entities of one polarity are juxtaposed with six of the other. Thus the conceptual and perceptual radicals are brought into one-to-one correspondence, confirming the analogical morphology of the creation narrative and messianic series already given. The Transfiguration redoubles this postulate. The nature of haptic/somatic consciousness, the means by which the body determines both thought and language, must accordingly deal with this alliance between transcendence and immanence, identity and unity, 'the heavens and the earth'. This follows from the obvious numerical pattern in which the figure six stands between the cipher for transcendence, five, and that for immanence, seven. The same pattern confirms the intensive structures of the two textual cycles, and their extensive relatedness.

So here then, we must enter the caveat concerning all semeihaptika: they recapitulate the 'adjunctive' form of antithesis. By 'adjunctive' I mean the Christological form, which is weighted neither in favour of transcendence, disjunction, nor of immanence, conjunction. The semeihaptika stand quite literally betwixt and between the acoustika, which are expressive of the transcendent, and the optika which manifest immanence. Language itself reflects these same structural features, since a word is both a phonetic and a graphic entity. But we have to account for the convergence of the acoustic (phonetic) and optic (graphic) forms which words assume, and this can only be done with reference to the logical nature of the hapticity of language, or what is the same thing, its somatic nature. For this mediates these two apparently divergent forms of the word. It is important to appreciate this fact in any venture towards a Christian theory of language, as an intrinsic part of Christology, especially in the wake of post-structural agendas, some of which impugn if they do not actually repudiate, with a blanket nihilism, the logical and semantic value of virtually anything smacking of binary forms. We have already put: there is no such thing as dualism tout court, there are instead various dualisms. These moreover are co-ordinated in language, if not in pre-linguistic thought itself, and syntactically integrated precisely by the role of the body and of touch. For the six Christological conceptual and six perceptual semeia, the incarnate and tangible disjunctively-conjunct members of the human body provide for the necessary commutation of those two juxtaposed ('peripheral') elements of mind, represented in every part of the texts as comparable, the 'first and last' of the Christological formulae, in conformity with the categoreal paradigm itself, 'the heavens and the earth'. In just this way we shall investigate the stories of healing, primarily in Mark and Luke from the point of view of the theology of haptic semiotic forms. In each case, the haptic/somatic binaries reconfigure the 'adjunctive' relation between the signified entities. That is, each of the haptic semeia stand in relation to one another as Christologies, adverting to the phenomenon of semiotics itself, the phenomenon of language itself, or as we may say, of the logos.

What the repetition of the categoreal paradigm within each narrative cycle allows, and serving to relate both cycles to one another, is a fourfold series of contrastive or oppositional pairs of radicals. The analogous relation of conceptual to perceptual radicals therefore now means that several different types of 'antithetical' dyads are possible. For the one-to-one correspondence of conceptual-to-conceptual and perceptual-to-perceptual radicals taxonomised in the beginning and end series, also brings into systematic relation one-to-one correspondences between a conceptual category and a perceptual category. If we utilise the optika themselves, as we have already done in the mandala previously depicted, this will be all the more immediately intelligible. So for example, as demonstrated in  previous mandala, we saw that the optikon red stands for both the conceptual form space and the perceptual radical acoustic imagination. Complementarily to this, the optikon green stands for the conceptual form space : time as well as for the perceptual radical acoustic memory. Now we can literally see that there are in all thus four possible combinations of this 'contrast', this particular oppositional structure. The four possible combinations reflect the variety of forms of antithesis. They are: (1) space and space : time; (2) acoustic memory and acoustic imagination; (3) space and acoustic memory; (4) space : time and acoustic imagination. It is important to grasp here that we are once again contravening any reification of the twelve taxonomised categories themselves. We are emphasising what has been put in the stories of 'transmutation', the first and last  and Christological miracles of the messianic series. Hence we are emphasising the processive and relational nature of the entities in question, and so undermining  any tendency to entify or substantialise the twelve radicals themselves as self-existent realities fully and finally independent of their relations to others. Only one example has just been given of the possibility of oppositional or contrastive components of mind. The complete range is as follows:

The theology of haptic semiotic forms is encoded within the twelvefold Markan corpus of healing miracles, some of which the gospel of Luke lacks, and to which, almost as if aware of this, he adds others. To begin with, we shall defer to the gospel of Mark. It is in some sense an 'urtext' for both sets of miracle stories, messianic and healing, and comes closest of any gospel to reiterating the categories. These same are heralded in the story of 'beginning', since as a 'beginning' alone it lacks an end. There is a similar intention bethind the opening of the gospel of John, and so we observed the recapitulation of the 'day' motif leading to the first messianic miracle narrative. Both Christologies of the first and last messianic miracle refer clearly to these broad outlines of the haptic semiotic forms. Both narratives refer to the six conceptual forms of the creation story and to the six perceptual radicals of the messianic series. From the Christological pivotal point, designated by the figure 6, between transcendence 'and' immanence, between 'identity' and 'unity', we are optimally situated to co-ordinate the peripheral semioses, both the acoustic and optic. Abstractively, the repeated numerals of the three miracle stories, 5, 6 and 7, allude to the categoreal paradigm as it manifests the the modes of sentience, acoustic, haptic and optic respectively. In addition to an analogical use of the body in the gospels, the metaphorical use of the body resurfaces continually throughout the New Testament. We notice it for example in Paul:

For just as the body (sw~ma) is one and has many members (me/lh), and all  the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ. For by one Spirit we were all baptized into one body - Jews or Greeks, slaves or free - and all were made to drink of one Spirit.

For the body does not consist of one member but of many. If the foot should say, "Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body," that would not make it any less a part of the body. And if the ear should say, "Because I am not an eye (o)fqalmo/v), I do not belong to the body," that would not make it any less a part of the body. If the whole body were an eye (o)fqalmo/v), where would be the hearing (a)koh/)? If the whole body were an ear (a)koh/), where would be the sense of smell  ( o!sfrhsiv)? (1 Corinthians 12.12-17)

This same figure is sustained over a significantly extended quantity of text. In the same letter, Paul has earlier exhorted the Corinthians to glorify God in their bodies (1 Corinthians 6.12-20), similarly to the injunctions in Romans 6.12-14, 19. This is not surprising, since the gospels like Paul (1 Corinthians 11.23-26), have accounts of the Eucharist as enactment of the drama of salvation so articulating the corporate nature of our existence. We shall have to consider the Eucharist in relation to Luke in particular, for whom as we see, the provision  of life sustaining food and drink is an abiding concern, and a major means by which he refers to desire. His theological perspective is through and through shaped by the fact of appetition and satisfaction and its Christological import. Of course the body is mentioned in Luke's description of The Institution Of The Eucharist (Luke 22.19), and the relation of this to John 2.1-11, as well as to the other two Eucharistic miracles must also occupy our attention. Apart from its pervasivenes in Christian theology, the relevance of the soma as metaphorical construal enjoys wide acceptance:
Lakoff and Johnson note that metaphors may vary from culture to culture but argue that they are not arbitrary, being derived initially from our physical, social and cultural experience. In 1744, Giambattista Vico made the point that: 'it is noteworthy that in all languages the greater part of the expressions relating to inanimate things are formed by metaphor from the human body and its parts and from the human senses and passions'. His modern English translators offer this adaptation of his list:

Thus, head for top or beginning; the brow and shoulders of a hill; the eyes of needles and of potatoes; mouth for any opening; the lip of a cup or pitcher; the teeth of a rake, a saw, a comb; the beard of wheat; the tongue of a shoe; the gorge of a river; a neck of land; an arm of the sea; the hands of a clock; heart for centre (the Latins used umbilicus, navel, in this sense); the belly of a sail; foot for end or bottom; the flesh of fruits; a vein of rock or mineral; the blood of grapes for wine; the bowels of the earth. Heaven or the sea smiles, the wind whistles, the waves murmur; a body groans under a great weight. (Vico 1968, 129) (David Chandler, Semiotics For Beginners, Rhetorical Tropes)
But here we are first putting what is formally central to any biblical theory of 'words' and 'the Word' - the haptic organon. Haptic signs, those 'parts' or 'members' of the body to which the texts of the healing miracles refer us, then postulate the relation between identity and unity. They are not biased in terms of either transcendence  like the acoustika, nor immanence, like the optika. This means of course that they manifest both identity, disjunctively real and permanent, and, unity, in which the former is precluded, and neither exclusively. A hand definitively and recognisably is just what it is. It may be compared and contrasted with the other members of the body. Certain such relationships are conspicuous. In the semiotic morphology of the body itself, we shall discover a formal consistency which reflects notions of binary contrast or antithesis confirming the structural forms of the creation narrative, concurrently with the same in the acoustic and optic organa. This is given to common sense. Obvious cases in point are the juxtapositions with which we must begin; those of the phallos and uterus; the arms and legs. Such morphological features of our bodies profoundly  influence not only the way we think. They also indubitably determine the functions in consciousness of those conceptual and perceptual components of consciousness which they signify. A primary aspect of these is the logical character of binary or oppositional ways of thinking. These influences and characteristics are immediately involved in conscious and aconscious processes. It is therefore essential that we pay some heed to the radical shape of our bodies in pursuit of the effort to understand consciousness itself. It is a vital part of semiotic theory which remains neglected. One of the major purposes behind Mark's telling of twelve miracle stories is to amend this deficiency.

So whereas the elements, or components of consciousness, its twelve categoreal radicals, can be spoken of in terms of transcendence or identity, so as to suggest parts of a whole, compliantly with the acoustic semiosis, it is vital that we realize their complementary nature, their co-ordination. We must therefore emphasise the unity of these same 'parts' in certain of their relations. The somatic/haptic signs are perfectly equipped for this task, for they thoroughly confirm the optic semiosis, with its insistence on integration, the oneness of the body's members, as well as the acoustic semiosis, the fact that in the first place, there are indeed recognisably identifiable such 'members'. This belongs to the adjunctive or Christological form of antithesis, with which we begin the theology of semiotic forms.

One immediate result of the implied paradox generated by the somatic/haptic concatenation of transcendence 'and' immanence, will be the use of synecdoche: if a whole may be represented in terms of parts, a part may also represent the whole. Something of the same idea was inferred in the structure of the creation story. The constant recapitulation of the categoreal paradigm, 'the heavens and the earth', at increasingly diminutive levels of the text itself echoed the overarching pattern of this categoreal paradigm again and again, reminiscent of fractal geometry. In attempting to understand the epistemological and psychological value of the haptic semiosis, especially in the context of language and communication, it will be helpful to keep such a figure in mind. It will assist us to restate at the outset that we are not dealing with elements whose identity exists distinctly from and independently of their participation in a whole. But equally, neither have we to do with an amorphous mass, insusceptible of any structural identification. The body always reminds us of this. Its 'members' constantly recur to the essential dialogue between transcendence and immanence, as central to the significance for logic of the 'withness of the body'.


Of all somatic (haptic) signs for the categories listed systematically in the two narrative cycles, only the two Pneumatological ones are those which suggest an immediate rapport between sign and signified: phallos and uterus. By the former we mean of course male genitalia, not the penis alone. Also we do not mean exclusively the penis erect, as synonymous with male virility, and potency, although these characteristics cannot be totally proscribed. Furthermore, the word 'phallos', for which there is no exact equivalent in the Hebrew Scriptures, may not infelicitously lack any immediate reference to the propagation of the species. We are contending that the symbolic masculine denotes the anthropic category in its albeit troublesome transcendent form, which means precisely its disjunctive relation to what is otherwise its complement, the symbolic feminine. The feminine on the other hand stands for the conjunction of these relata, symbolic masculine and symbolic feminine. 'Phallos' is a useful term and its symbolic tenor is apt. But we mean by it the genital zone of the human male body, which is composed of more than just the penis, and for which we encountered several distinct terms in the visions of Ezekiel. The other and complementary sign is uterus, which of course, for good or ill insists on the generative function of the human female body.

A raft of expressions in English, and probably most languages, exists to denote both such members of the animal body. Some which have entered the language in recent years are quite sympathetic to religious sensibilities; for example, 'yin and yang', 'yoni and lingam' and so on. Biblical Hebrew refers to human genitalia by means of circumlocutions, for example: r#&fbf,,,,,,,,,,,, Leviticus 15.2f, 7,  usually translated 'flesh' can also refer to the male and female genitals; Leviticus 15.19; hwfr:(ed, Genesis 9.22f which can refer to 'nakedness' or 'the genital areas' of both sexes and so on. Remarkably, biblical Hebrew contains equivalent to the Greek for 'body', soma, and characteristically employs synechdochic pars pro toto. (Paul seems to have inherited this mental tendency, which makes his usage of soma cited above, all the more interesting.) I shall use the term 'uterus' complementarily to the term 'phallos'. The English expression 'womb' is appropriate enough, but it lacks an adjectival form that is not maladroit. The point should be emphasised, that these two somatic signs are the only two in which there is an immediately intelligible correspondence between the bodily member and the conceptual form: symbolic masculine and symbolic feminine. In other words, they are immediately literal; the sign is more than a mere token of the entity. In the case of the other ten somatic (haptic) semeia, there is no comparably literal signification. But all such signs formulate systematically binary oppositions, in accordance with the pattern of the Days of creation and the messianic miracles.


The references in Ezekiel to the symbolic masculine as configured by the phallos have already been remarked. This squares with the general transcendentalist orientation of the Hebrew canon complementarily as does the presentation of the symbolic feminine within the New Testament, where the outlook has shifted towards a decidedly immanentist perspective. Luke is certainly well aware of this as we shall see. There were veiled references to these both semeia, phallos and womb, in the Day 3 rubric, in the guise of the two types of plants. These veiled references suggested the variant organization of the genitalia: externally in the male, and internally in the female. The complementary rubric, that of Day 6, literally remarks the engendered animal body, explicitly speaking of male and female in respect of humans. The following J narrative, and The Apocalypse, will both link human sexual dimorphism with consciousness and with awareness of good and evil. The Apocalypse appears to invoke both creation narratives, P and J, in what are some of its central concerns, beginning with the 'war in heaven' (Apocalypse 12.7). The term 'apocalypse' ( a)poka/luyiv Apocalypse 1.1) itself, as intending unveiling, denuding or disclosure, stands very readily in contradistinction to the events depicted in the J narrative, which result in the human couple clothing themselves. This contends against any reading of it that does not fully take stock of its reworking of its sources in its own interests. The serpent is the chief example of the need for the same. In the J narrative it carries absolutely none of the semantic freight which the apocalyptist later attributes to it:

The woman answered the serpent: Of the fruit of the trees in the garden we may eat;

but of the fruit of the tree in the middle of the garden God said: you shall not eat of it, you shall not even touch it, otherwise you shall die.

And the serpent said to the woman: You will certainly not die!

God knows well, that as soon as you eat of it, your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing what is good and evil.

Then the woman saw that it would be good to eat from the tree, that it was pleasant to look at and that the tree was desirable so as to become clever. So she took some of the fruit and ate, and she gave it to her husband with her, and he ate.

Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they realized that they were naked, and they sewed fig-leaves together and made themselves aprons. (Genesis 3.2-7) ...

And Yahweh God made coats of skins for the man and his wife and clothed them. (v 21)

Notably, this narrative refers to both categories announced in the Day 3 and Day 6 rubrics, not just those of the latter, the male and female animal and human couples. For the first part of the J narrative details the creation of the garden itself, and links the man at least, with the earth. Plants and earth were brought into being during Day 3, preparatory to the final Day of the hexameron, when the humans are created:

When Yahweh God made earth and the heavens -

there was not yet any plant of the field on the earth nor had any shrub sprung up for Yahweh God had not yet caused rain to fall upon the earth, nor was there any man to till the ground:

and a stream of water used to rise from the earth and water the whole face of the ground -

then Yahweh God formed the man out of dust from the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; so the man became a living being.

And Yahweh God planted a garden in Eden, in the east, and put the man that he had formed in it.

And Yahweh God made all kinds of trees grow out of the ground, pleasant to look at and good to eat, and the tree of life in the middle of the garden, and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. (Genesis 2.4b-9)

This is in every sense an 'earthly' creation account. It contains no mention of heaven, and the 'God' of this second narrative walks and talks in the garden not dissimilarly to the human creatures. Where it reads as pursuant to the first narrative of creation is in its consistent adoption of the themes given in the Day 3 and Day 6 rubrics; those of the two types of plants, and the sexually dimorphic humans. Thus in all respects its outlook is immanentist rather than transcendental. That said however, here again, we find a singular man, a 'transcendent' man, who in a sense, is no 'man' at all, if we take that to mean the gendered male body in its complementarity to the gendered female body. Momentarily at least, this Adam sans Eve conforms with the hermeneutic I am proposing, introduced in the motifs of the Day 3 rubric; firstly that of the sea rather than the land/earth, and secondly that of the 'kind' of plant bearing seed rather than containing seed-fruit within it, a trope for the gendered masculine body. It is finally due to the nature of external relatedness that the full value of transcendence can be thus assigned to the symbolic masculine, however paradoxically, because of the innate immanence of the anthropic.

The visions of the two beasts, the first from the sea, the second from the earth, in The Apocalypse, would seem therefore to adapt the Day 3 rubric, which mentions both sea and land in its presentation of the symbolic masculine. But that book also combines aspects from the later J narrative, which it deliberately modifies, since it is concerned with 'the end'  and not the 'beginning'. Of these, the serpent is the most obvious, and we should not fail to note the extent to which this complex symbol in The Apocalypse differs from its precedent. The Apocalypse is no simple rewriting of the myth of the prototypical human couple. Indeed it would seem that the author views that story as mythical. Whatever the case, there is absolutely no artfulness in its final depiction of a sexual psychology of good and evil. The clear resonance between the dragon ('serpent') and the two beasts, the two human beasts, consistently redrafts the J creation myth rather than merely copying it:

And I saw a beast rising out of the sea, with ten horns, and seven heads, and ten diadems upon its horns and a blasphemous name upon its heads. And the beast that I saw was like a leopard, its feet were like a bear's, and its mouth was like a lion's mouth. And to it the dragon gave his power and his throne and great authority. One of its heads seemed to have a mortal wound, but its mortal wound was healed. ( e)sfagme/nhn ei~v qa/naton kai\ h( plhgh\ tou~ e)qera/peuqh, Apocalypse 13.1-3).

This, the initial description of 'a beast rising out of the sea' (Apocalypse 13.1), is consistent with the imagery of Day 3. (The ensuing description of animals in The Apocalypse appears to take Daniel 7.4-6 as its source.) In the first two images of the Genesis rubric, we found the sea, spoken of as 'gathered together' and the subsequent appearance of land. Such imagery must be logically reckoned  according to the final description of the Pneumatological conceptual forms mentioned in Day 6, male and female respectively, but chiefly in relation to the transcendent polarity of this category, that of the symbolic masculine. Its primary characteristic as far as concerns consciousness, is the phenomenon of collective identity ('transcendence'), of which John names at least four varieties as noted: 'tribe and tongue and people and nation' (Apocalypse 5.10 et passim). This is an outstanding hallmark of animal and human consciousness; which in a given sense, if it is not actually 'asexual', then can be seen as counter to the erotic. The inherence in human consciousness of collective consciousness and collective identity, should be a chief topic of examination for evolutionary psychology. In human culture we see certainly that the military instantiates what we understand by the term 'collective identity' to a remarkable degree, as in Mark's story of the man possessed by 'Legion'. In the past for the most part, an army has consisted of members of one sex, the male, and of one 'nation'. Hence 'war' becomes an abiding theme of The Apocalypse which ties together at a stroke putative animality, collective consciousness, homosociality, the symbolic masculine and the destructive instinct ranged against creation tantamount to a drive towards generic ('ethnic') self-annihilation:

Men worshiped the dragon, for he had given his authority to the beast, and they worshiped the beast saying, "Who is like the beast, and who can fight against it?"

And the beast was given a mouth uttering haughty and blasphemous words, and it was allowed to exercise authority for forty-two months; it opened its mouth to utter blasphemies against God, blaspheming his name and his dwelling, that is, those who dwell in heaven. Also it was allowed to make war on the saints and to conquer them. (Apocalypse 13.4-7a)

And authority was given it over every tribe and people and tongue and nation, and all who dwell on earth will worship it, every one whose name has not been written before the foundation of the world in the book of life of the Lamb that was slain. If any one has an ear let him hear: If any one is to be taken captive, to captivity he goes; if any one slays with the sword, with the sword must he be slain. Here is a call for the endurance and faith of the saints. (Apocalypse 13.7b-10)

The description of the second beast keeps common cause with the former, and of course both are linked to the dragon. The use of the word 'sword' denotes the military as a prime exemplification of the symbolic masculine. But such a reading should not ignore the complicity of the two. It is the economic factor - 'to buy or sell' - which brings into focus the symbolic feminine. To cement this, the fabled number of the beast, 'a human number', twice repeats the figure 6, identifying the sixth Day, when the land animals and the sexually dimorphic humans were brought into being:

Then I saw another beast which rose out of the earth; it has two horns like a lamb and it spoke like a dragon (dra/kwn). It exercises all the authority of the first beast in its presence, and makes the inhabitants of the earth worship the first beast, whose mortal wound was healed (ou(~ e)qerape/uqh h( plhgh\ tou~ qana/tou au)tou~). It works great signs, even making fire come down from heaven to earth in the sight of men; and by the signs which it is allowed to work in the presence of the beast, it deceives those who dwell on earth, bidding them make an image for the beast which was wounded by the sword ( e!xei th\n plhgh\n th~v maxai/rhv) and yet lived; and it was allowed to give breath to the image of the beast so that the image of the beast should even speak, and to cause those who would not worship the image of the beast to be slain. Also it causes all, both small and great, both rich and poor, both free and slave, to be marked on the right hand or the forehead, so that no one can buy or sell unless he has the mark, that is, the name of the beast or the number of its name. This calls for wisdom: let him who has understanding reckon thenumber of the beast, for it is a human number, its number is six hundred and sixty-six. (Apocalypse 13.11-18)

The linking of the two beasts, the first from the sea, and the second from the earth, and the dragon/serpent, recurs to the second creation story, in which the serpent was mentioned (Apocalypse 12.9,  o)/fiv). The writer with an almost signature penchant for numerical symbolism, uses four different terms for the same entity. The dragon (dra/kwn: Apocalypse 12.3, 4, 7, 9, 13, 16, 17, 13.2, 4, 11) and serpent are identified with each other (Apocalypse 12.9), where all four terms are used of the same thing: 'great dragon, that ancient serpent, who is called the Devil and Satan, the deceiver of the whole world'. The allusion of the serpent symbol to the J creation narrative rests upon several factors: the complicity between the woman and the serpent; the complicity between the man and the woman; injury, though not with the sword, to the head of the serpent and to the heel of the man. The latter may well be a periphrasis for the phallos, as it is in Jeremiah 13.22. Even so, we should guard against any reading of the J story which identifies the serpent itself with the phallos; nor is there any reasonable case for interpreting the serpent of The Apocalypse as a circumlocution or metaphor for the phallos:

When then they heard Yahweh God moving about in the garden at the time of the day breeze, the man and his wife hid themselves from the presence of God among the trees of the garden.

And Yahweh God called the man and said to him: Where are you? He answered:

I heard you coming in the garden and I was afraid because I am naked; so I hid myself.

He said: Who told you that you are naked? Is it that you have eaten from the tree from which I forbade you to eat?

The man said, the woman whom you gave me as a companion, she it is who gave me of the tree, and so I ate.

And Yahweh God said to the woman: What is it you have done!
The woman answered: The serpent induced me to eat.

And Yahweh God said to the serpent: Because you have done this, cursed are you among all cattle, and among all animals of the field; you shall crawl on your belly, and you shall eat dust your whole life long.

Enmity I am putting between you and the woman, between your seed and her seed; it will crush your head, and you will snap at its heel (bq"(f). (Genesis 3.8-15)

Other themes combining both creation stories in the apocalyptist's eschatological experience are: the idea of a parody of the actual creation itself, in the creation of the image of the beast and the idea of such deriving from the imago Dei in the P text; that of breath given to the image stemming from the J narrative; the idea of authority of the humans over the animals in the P narrative, and so on. Of course the signifying phallos is not used univocally in The Apocalypse. It does not of itself always stand for evil - or here, more fittingly yet, the ugliness of evil. Just as it certainly did not in Ezekiel. If these two conceptual forms are themselves riddled with ambiguity if not apparent paradox, then so too are their 'signs' in this book. However, John does not resile from the innate ambiguity of the appearance of either semeia, phallos or uterus. Both are signified as wounds and linked with mortality. These terms are not at once pertinent to the gospel of Luke in that it incorporates a theology and soteriology of desire and faith-in-desire. Those characteristically Lukan intentional modes are Christological rather than Pneumatological. They are not signified by the genital body, as are the Pneumatological modes of intentionality. We have already noticed that Luke very deliberately affirms the contributions of desire and faith-in-desire to a well-adapted life. He is not as such, any more than the author of The Apocalypse is, deprecating either desire or belief-in-desire; intentional modes which are signified by the hand and the gut, rather than either phallos or uterus. But the brief of the seer of The Apocalypse is markedly Pneumatological. He means to account for those particular aspects of consciousness which can be identified accordingly: the optic memory and optic imagination, and the symbolic masculine and symbolic feminine. Every one of which is a manifest of the immanent form of value, beauty. This is no easy task. The intentional modes belonging to these categories are all hybridized - they are effectively neither fish nor fowl; neither purely conative nor thoroughly cognitive, but rather a synthesis of the two. We shall say more concerning this in discussing the theology of semiotic forms.

So it would be wrong to assume from his use of a rather time-worn metaphor of the wounded body as the engendered body, that the apocalyptist univocally associates semiologically both womb and phallos with metaphysical evil. Precisely because it would be just as mistaken to conclude that by these same semeia he means sexuality in general. He does not. We are some distance in the book at this point here of the emergence of the two beasts, from the series of seven vials containing plagues, where we meet the effective eschatology of desire, including of course sexual desire, but still more importantly, economic desire, the Pneumatological expression of that form of intentionality. Moreover the adoption of the visions of Ezekiel quite early on in the book, visions of the four living creatures, which reappear throughout it at various stages, militates against any such idea. Ezekiel's trenchant denudation of the symbolic masculine is already implicit in John's adoption of the same celestial imagery, that of the 'four living creatures'. There are many other indications as well as these, prevailing against any wholesale understanding of either semeihaptikon, phallos or uterus, which would disallow any nuance. For example, there is the 'great portent in heaven', 'a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet, and on her head a crown of twelve stars' (Apocalypse 12.1). This vision is irreducibly feminine in its typology, and accords with the Day 4 story. Here the author amalgamates the same threefold solar, stellar and lunar imagery in that section of the creation consigned to immanence, showing the benign face of the symbolic feminine, and its role in the economy of salvation. He is just as even-handed with the feminine as with the masculine. But ideological interpretations are of course routinely made of transcendence, particularly as it applies to the conceptual form the symbolic masculine.

Or yet again, there is the vision immediately after that of the second beast, of the one hundred and forty-four thousand standing with the lamb on Mount Zion; 'it is these who follow the Lamb wherever he goes; these have been redeemed from mankind as first fruits for God and the Lamb, and in their mouth no lie was found, for they are spotless.' (Apocalypse 14.1-5). We should notice that the woman of chapter 12 is not described as virginal, instead the men of chapter 14 are. In spite of which, the latter image has drawn the ire of an army of feminist polemicists, most of it more stridently vituperative than comprehending. But this is if anything, an image which completely transvalues the actuality of rape as a weapon of war. And it is in fact believable, for additionally, it should be said, that given their age, countless men who perished in military combat would certainly have been sexual innocents, 'virgins' by any other name. It seems unlikely even that the writer here is extolling virginity, or celibacy. Instead he appears to be referring to the phenomenon of transcendence as it polarises the anthropic; that is, to the fact of the symbolic masculine, the reality of specifically male homosociality.
That author sees the world rife with destructive violence, which is finally to be ultimately met with its force majeure, the 'army' of the sacrificial lamb. Human 'transcendence' of the 'human' itself, the enigmatic transcendence of immanence, requires a definitive identity that is wholly self-identical, wholly self-same. Its repudiation of what is other to its own self does not therefore impute to the actual feminine lesser worth, a point which seems to have been lost on many feminist and post-feminist polemicists as noted.

If we remark the absence of any more directly phallic imagery in the New Testament on par with Ezekiel's bracing realism than we find in The Apocalypse, this agrees with the radical divergence between the testaments conformably to that of transcendence and immanence. So instead, we find in the gospel of Luke, the evangelist who most champions the soteriological role of women, several references clearly associating the feminine and the Holy Spirit, which revert to the signifying female body, the uterine body:

And the angel said to her, "Do not be afraid Mary, for you have found favour with God. And Behold, you will conceive in your womb ( e)n gastri\ ) and bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus". (Luke1.31)

Prior to this, Luke envisions the birth of John in parallel terms. The angel of the Lord tells Elizabeth:

"And you will have joy and gladness and many will rejoice at his birth; for he will be great before the Lord, and he shall drink no wine nor strong drink, and he will be filled with the Holy Spirit, even from his mother's womb." ( koili/av Luke 1.15)

And when Elizabeth heard the greeting of Mary, the babe leaped in her womb (koili/a?); and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit, and she exclaimed with a loud cry, "Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb (koili/av)." And why is this granted to me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me? "For behold, when the voice of your greeting came to my ears, the babe in my womb  (koili/a?) leaped for joy." (Luke 1.41-44)

Various translations of the term noted here are made. They include 'the belly' or 'stomach', as in Matthew's account of the  sign of Jonah' saying (Matthew 12.40), and his discourse on purity, which certainly means the consumption of food (15.17). Mark's parallel to the same also uses the expression in this context (Mark 7.19). A further saying in Matthew is worth noting. It follows The Teaching About Divorce:

"For there are eunuchs who have been so from birth ( e)k koili/av mhtro\v), and there are eunuchs who have been made eunuchs by men, and there are eunuchs who have made themselves eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. He who is able to receive this, let him receive it." (Mathew 19.12)

Somewhat in keeping with this, John gives the expression a less visceral and more spiritualizing tone, but one nevertheless reliant upon the associations of the word koili/a with thirst qua desire rather than hunger:

On the last day of the feast, the great day, Jesus stood up and proclaimed, "If any one thirst, let him come to me and drink. He who believes in me, as the scripture has said, 'Out of his heart ( e)k th~v koili/av) shall flow rivers of living water.'" (John 7.37, 38)



It is to Mark's story of The Gerasene Demoniac that we must turn for the classical exposition of the haptic semeion phallos. We shall discuss this narrative first, since it begins the chain of events ending with The Syrophoenician Woman's Daughter, in which the complementary semeion is presented. If it appears that this last textual unit has been dislodged, consideration of the intervening passages will show why. The placement of the final event in the chain integrates the stories of the three women, and further still, that of The Gerasene Demoniac with which the catena begins, into a complex whole. Thus it will be necessary to view these two pericopae, the first and the last, in closest connection with one another, a method clearly guaranteed by the fact that they share so many of the same motifs:

They came to the other side of the sea, to the country of the Gerasenes. And when he had come out of the boat, there met him out of the tombs a man with an unclean spirit, who lived among the tombs; and no one could bind him any more, even with a chain; for he had often been bound with fetters and chains, but the chains he wrenched apart, and the fetters he broke in pieces; and no one had the strength to subdue him. Night and day among the tombs and on the mountains he was always crying out, and bruising himself with stones. And when he saw Jesus from afar, he ran and worshiped him; and crying out with a loud voice he said: "What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God?" I adjure you by God, do not torment me." For he had said to him, "Come out of the man, you unclean spirit!" And Jesus asked him, "What is your name?" He replied, "My name is Legion; for we are many." And he begged them eagerly not to send them out of the country. Now a great herd of swine was feeding there on the hillside; and they begged him, "Send us into the swine, let us enter them." So he gave them leave. And the unclean spirits came out, and entered the swine; and the herd numbering about two thousand, rushed down the steep bank into the sea, and were drowned in the sea. (Mark 5.1-13)

This is the first part of the miracle story. It is a virtual exordium to a chain of events in Mark, much of whose content is galvanised around the concept of the body. Because of the integration of those three aconscious conceptual categories which the stories of the three women describe, the three forms of unity, space : time, mind : body and male : female, it is difficult to isolate the units from one another. The chain extends from Mark 5.21 to 7.31, where the last detailed component of the series, the anthropic, in its immanent form, the symbolic feminine, incorporates the symbolic masculine, which was the subject of the story of The Gerasene Demoniac. This explains why these peripherally located narratives have so many features in common. In the story of the 'exorcism' here at the outset, Mark delineates a conscious conceptual form, and although it is related to the last quite obviously, since the last, the story of The Syrophoenician's Daughter, deals with the symbolic feminine, aspects of which have already been articulated in both prior narratives, Jairus' Daughter and The Haemorrhagic Woman, the portrait of The Gerasene Demoniac does stand apart to some degree. The man himself is isolated as configuring, always paradoxically, the possibility of a transcendent anthropic category, the symbolic masculine, which is so highly problematic.

No uncertainty is attendant upon the theological underpinning of Mark's portrait of the symbolic masculine, or that of the symbolic feminine. 'Spirit' (to\ pneu~ma) is mentioned repeatedly (Mark 5.3, 8, 13); 'demons' (daimoni/zomai - 'being demoniac', 'having a demon', 'to be possessed by a demon', vv 15, 16, 18) is also mentioned three times. This same word occurred in Mark 1.31, as part of a summary of healings which follows immediately the story of Simon Peter's mother-in-law, an all too brief account of the symbolic feminine, and one which may have been judged an embarrassment given her status. But the evangelist is not so hesitant in his later, fully realized exposition of the symbolic feminine. There he uses to full advantage, the derogatory overtones of 'Syrophoenician' which reverts intertextually to the 'Legion' of the picture of the male; the imagery of animals; and the image of animals feeding. All of which allude to the sexually dimorphic animal body if not implicitly to sexuality.

There are obvious parallels between The Gerasene Demoniac and The Demoniac In The Synagogue (Mark 2.1-28), just as there are between the conceptual forms which they depict, the masculine and space respectively. We find the demoniac of the very first healing narrative also referred to as having an 'unclean spirit' (vv 1, 23, 26, 27). But several inflections particularly in the more detailed later narrative, which may have served as guide for the former, make its intent unmistakable. It is not place which matters most in the Gerasene man's case. Space, or at least, place, insofar as it relates to the symbolic masculine, is evoked by the word 'country' (Mark 5.1,10) as well as the proper name. This parallels the details concerning the location of the later exorcistic healing. But still more importantly than that, he writes the word 'sea' (vv 1, 13), the place where the swine perish. Both terms, 'country' and 'sea', invoke the story of Day 3. There is a clear association made here too between the concept of the masculine, and the perceptual radical, optic imagination, the depiction of which we have just been told in the immediately prior story, The Stilling Of The Storm (Mark 4.35-41). In both cases, the messianic miracle depicting optic imagination, and the healing miracle depicting the symbolic masculine, the theme of mortality is crucial. This re-inforces their common Pneumatological cast by means of contrast with the  the Holy Spirit as life-giver. Both miracles demonstrate a destructive crisis overcome and the restoration of order. The purpose of their contiguous arrangement ensure the clear link between the perceptual and conceptual Pneumatological categories. Notably however, the messianic miracle at sea also invokes the Day 3 creation rubric, its counterpart, as the classical exposition of the symbolic masculine. The very same is the subject of the immediately ensuing narrative, The Gerasene Demoniac.

Luke's version (Luke 8.26-39) of the healing is no less complete a picture, although he has reduced the Markan total of twenty-one verses to fourteen. (Matthew treats the text even more summarily, his redaction consisting of just seven verses (Matthew 8.28-34), and he mentions 'two demoniacs' v 28). Luke does highlight one detail, 'apocalyptic' in tone, worthy of note:

And as he stepped out on land, there met him a man from the city who had demons; for a long time he had worn no clothes, and he lived not in a house but among the tombs. (Luke 8.27, emphasis added.)

Mark himself suggested the same in the second half of the story, although he nowhere previously explicity remarked the man's nakedness:

And they came to Jesus, and saw the demoniac sitting there, clothed ( i(matisme/non) and in his right mind, the man who had had the legion; and they were afraid. (Mark 5.15)

Even if it does not explicitly speak of a 'phallos', the word does not occur in the New Testament, we would be obtuse in missing not just the intention of the evangelist to reckon the somatic/haptic semeion, but also the certain allusions to male homosexuality in The Gerasene Demoniac. In the account of the man's self-abuse and self-harm we see indeed a superhuman and preternatural power. We see in the relation of this story to that of The Syrophoenician Woman's Daughter, both of which establish the inclusio of the healing miracle catena detailing the three forms of unity, soma, time, and the feminine, that Mark leaves even less room for doubt in referring to male homosexuality, for there he mentions the 'little dogs'. This animal symbol as a trope for male homosexuality is subtextual to both exorcism narratives. The man's possession by many 'unclean spirits' ought to be read in the light of the homosocial 'Legion'. Military cadres have always offered a genuine opportunity for male same-sex bonding which in certain instances will necessarily lead to physical intimacy. It is possible even that the evangelist was aware of the legendary Theban Band. That would certainly square with the description of the woman as 'a Greek by birth'.

Many exegetes interpret this narrative in respect of the resurrection of Jesus. But it resounds more certainly with the creation story, due to the obvious rapport of The Stilling Of The Storm with the latter. Both the healing narrative and the prior messianic event, contiguously here, repeat the sea-land dichotomy, the first of the two binaries in the Day 3 story. (Moreover there was an extended use of imagery of plant-life and its propagation, the second binary in that rubric, in texts leading up to the messianic miracle, beginning with the parable of The Sower, Mark 4.1s). The passage of the disciples across the maelstrom is like all messianic events of the transcendent type, an exclusively male affair. This gives further thrust to that very polarity, transcendence, articulated at the beginning of the healing episode: 'the other side' (to/ pe/ran Mark 5.1), which must be taken in opposition to the initial and immanent messianic The Transformation Of Water Into Wine. It also confirms a reading of the mental state of the Gerasene man in keeping with the phenomenon of male homosexuality, and with the subtext of the narrative as listing the haptic semeion, the phallos. Of course, it was the Day 3 rubric, which contained veiled references to the structure of the sexually dimorphic body, in its portrayal of the two distinct 'kinds' of plants. This we read in terms of the disposition of the genitalia - external in the male, and internal in the female, noting the certain fact that it operates as an overture to Day 6, its complement, the rubric which explicitly refers to human sexual dimorphism, and by extension, that of the land animals.

The overall picture we gain of the male 'who lived among the tombs' is decidedly masculine. This sorts well with the fact of creation, and of course procreation, but in just the sense that it signals the very opposite. Here the figure is realized in terms of the apocalyptic portrayal of the masculine form of evil, destruction. The man is at war with himself; he is pitted against himself in a life and death struggle, on a par with the struggle which the disciples undergo in crossing the sea. The impulse to destruction is part of a comprehensive vision we garner from biblical metaphysics concerning the particularly masculine form of evil, which began with the story of the murder of Abel by Cain, his brother (Genesis 4.1-16). That story links the theme of sacrifice with the symbolic masculine propensity to destruction, a connection which the author of The Apocalypse also makes, and this surfaces in the vision of the one hundred and forty-four thousand standing with the sacrificial lamb on Mount Zion. The Gerasene male recognises Jesus' authority, and not his power alone. Indeed Mark shows him resisting the power of Jesus which he readily acknowledges. But the possessed man does not wish to be rid of his demons, nor do they wish to leave him, without effecting a cataclysm. This supports the innately teleological quality of the category, the symbolic masculine, while the theme of destruction reinforces that of 'perishing' in the prior messianic event.

Much of the paradox native to the symbolic masculine as manifest in terms of military culture stems from its effort to actualise the principle of identity. We shall not say the same thing concerning either space or mind; for they successfully transcend their antithetical categories, the spatiotemporal and the psychophysical; that is, they realize identity. The anthropic remains weighted in favour of the complementary category, the symbolic feminine, to which it is externally related. The feminine suborns identity in the interests of unity. Identity is central to both the healing and messianic miracles, since they are of the transcendent type. The Gerasene man, like the man in the synagogue, already knows who Jesus is. We do not find such clear statements concerning his identity in miracles of the complementary type. The man 'among the tombs' who is possessed, is also identified, but in terms that are unintelligible. We do not understand him as either a 'he' or a 'they'. He speaks of himself in both ways. He first speaks of himself as 'me', but subsequently as the 'we' of '"Legion; for we are many'".  His own identity is not an 'I' but an 'it', a 'herd'. The problem raised is both epistemological and psychological: it is the case of a one who thinks of himself as a many, rather than 'a many which allows itself to be thought of as a one'. A Roman Legion may have numbered as many as six thousand men, here the swine are spoken of as 'numbering about two thousand' (Mark 5.13). Group identity is certainly second-order identity for it relies upon what is in fact other than the self, the 'ego', the 'I'. Collective identity surrenders this 'I' in an uneasy truce with not just a single other, a single female other, which would in some sense, be to already subvert it. The principium individuationis necessarily forgoes this, answering to its own purposes, which are so closely bound with dying rather than with sexual love; with Thanatos rather than with Eros. But the Gerasene's self can scarcely remain so alone, that is, he cannot yet die, and he attempts to establish a relational self by means of many others taken to be the same as itself ('himself'), or at least similar to itself ('himself'). This too however unwittingly, compromises identity. The self given over to multitudinous simulacra, to copies of itself, of which there are theoretically an infinite number, is an untrue even if beautiful self. Once again, identity remains  unachieved, since it must claim for itself the exclusion of the other. The effort of the symbolic masculine to transcend its alter ego is necessarily fraught in just this way.

The phallos signifies the external relatedness of the male body to what is essentially other than itself. We should remember of course that all bodies, whether male or female, are 'phallic' as well as 'uterine'. Both properties, those of the symbolic masculine or the symbolic feminine, are intrinsically expressed by every haptic semeion. The body itself is marked by the disjunction and conjunction, the 'disjunctive synthesis', of its origination - its adjunctive parenting bodies. We encountered these 'parenting bodies' in the story of Jairus' Daughter, just as they were first portended in the Day 4 rubric, where lunar and solar imagery marks the symbolic feminine and masculine respectively, and in which the stellar imagery signals filiality. So in discussing the various haptic semeia, of which these two, phallos and uterus, are the first, we adverted to the fact that each somatic/haptic member is always disposed in virtue of either conceptual form, symbolic masculine or symbolic feminine. In just this way, the structure of certain languages itself likewise demonstrates by its classification of substantives, the same three 'identities', masculine (solar), feminine (lunar), and filial (stellar), the last of which is neuter. The last, the filial, 'daughter' or 'son', the child, corresponds to the haptic; for it situates itself midway between transcendence and immanence. We have already described these as centrifugal or centripetal, efferent or afferent, externalising or internalising, respectively.

But the body incarnates not merely the eschatological category alone. As Christological, it co-ordinates both beginning and end, the primordial and the eschatological. The body recalls the primordial category, space : time, as this shapes perceptual consciousness. It mirrors the fundamental alterity between the imagined future and the remembered past of space : time. In the composition of its members, its twelve haptic semeia, it replicates the six conceptual forms and the six perceptual radicals. Hence the body as signifier, contains members both 'feminine' and 'masculine', or as we may say, 'mnemic' and 'imaginal'. The phallic is the imaginal body; the uterine is the mnemic body. The syntactical semeihaptika inform both polarities of consciousness; the conceptual as well as the perceptual consciousness, mediating the radical disparity between identity and unity. Not only does the membered body therefore make provision for meaning; indeed, it remains the source of communication.

In the series of healing miracles, the first of any hint we encounter concerning the symbolic feminine, comes in the all too brief story of Simon Peter's Mother-In-Law (Mark 1.29-31; Luke 4.38, 39; Matthew 8.14-16). In both Mark and Luke the story is edited closely connected to that of The Demoniac In The Synagogue (Mark 1.21-28, Luke 4.31-37), a narrative which Matthew's gospel omits, very possibly because of its negative allusions to Peter, and Petrine Christianity. The twelve or so healing miracle pericopae establish links with the disciple series insofar as the latter too are somewhat reiterative of the twelvefold categoreal logic. But it is the far more detailed stories of healing which of course bear the full freight of recapitulation. Since the first of these concerns the conceptual category space, which is linked to Peter, first among the twelve, it probably reflected badly on him in Matthew's eyes. Matthew critically, albeit much less derogatively than Mark's overall portrait of the disciple, involves Peter in The Walking On The Water (Matthew 14.28-33), which no other evangelist does. But that particular messianic narrative is the story of the perceptual equivalent of the conceptual form space: to wit, acoustic imagination.

The early and summary story of Peter's Mother-In-Law, which much, even though momentarily, resembles the Johannine narrative of The Official's Son (John 4.46-54, both are arranged second in their series), Mark too may have considered inappropriate as the vehicle for the conceptual form, the symbolic feminine, his inclusion of it notwithstanding. Having omitted it, Matthew proceeds to put in second place, The Centurion's Servant, the parallels and differences between which and the Johannine second sign, we have already outlined. Thus, in intending his second healing miracle story as some sort of portrayal of the economic if not precisely the symbolic feminine, Matthew connects the two conceptual radicals: space and the symbolic feminine. The same effect is achieved in the gospels of Mark and Luke which have the narrative of The Mother-In-Law of Simon Peter as the second healing event. (The third affiliate of this constellation whose meaning we shall address later, is of course the soma, the body.)

But there is yet another reason for associating the pericope concerning Simon Peter's Mother-In-Law as a cameo of the symbolic feminine, with the first healing,
The Man With The Unclean Spirit (Mark 1.21-28), which deals immediately with the conceptual category, space. The Demoniac In The Synagogue since it is about space, 'the heavens', necessarily has at its centre the theological persona of "the Father", 'Transcendence', the provenance of space ('the heavens'). (The same persona is even more clearly announced in the healing miracle story which has to do with the acoustic imagination, the healing of A Boy With An Inclean Spirit (Mark 9.14-29). That episode deals with the relationship between a father and a son, and in some ways, concerns the father more than the son, even though it is the son who is cured. It mentions the father of the boy numerous times: Mark 9.17, 21, 24)). In placing the pericope about Simon Peter's Mother-In-Law immediately after that of The Man With The Unclean Spirit (Mark 1.21-28), and Luke following suit, Mark is drawing our attention to the familial personification of the symbolic masculine: the fraternal. This alterity between the 'one' father and the 'many' brothers' may stand as a relevant guide to some of the differences between the two exorcisms, The Man With The Unclean Spirit and The Gerasene Demoniac (Mark 1.21-1 and 5.1-20). The symbolic masculine devolves upon the 'many' rather than the 'one', notwithstanding their equally certain proximity. And just as space is one, the anthropic, especially in its transcendental guise of the symbolic masculine, is a many. The symbolic feminine contains within itself, the masculine as we constantly reiterate. But given the economic or familial overtones of the narratives which mark the symbolic feminine, there can be but one father, and many brothers. Plurality is the situation not just of the "Legion", but that too of the band of brothers crossing the perilous seas to the other side. Thus not just Mark alone, wishes to draw out the essential link between the conceptual forms, space and the symbolic feminine, a party to which will also be the conceptual form soma. This meaningfully reflects the 'natural' order in the way just noted. The relationship between transcendence and immanence, 'heavens and the earth', is mirrored in that obtaining between "the Father" and the Holy Spirit, the latter being accountable for the symbolic feminine, which consists of male and female.

But the story of Peter's Mother-In-Law should not divert us from the foremost portrait the healing miracle series contains of the symbolic feminine: The Syrophoenician's Daughter (Mark 7.24-31, Matthew 15.21-28), which particular story is missing from Luke. Slightly less than seventy percent of Mark is contained in the gospel of Luke; but he has omitted Mark 6.45-8.27. The Syrophoenician Woman's Daughter suits perfectly Luke's own agenda as highlighting the mission to the Gentiles and the role of women generally. Since however he does have the first half of the inclusio, the healing of the Gerasene Demoniac, and since Matthew has both episodes in compliance with Mark, we should examine the text in its essential rapport with the first event.

The common features of the two pericopae are worth repeating. The story is brief, but on account of its clear relation to the former healing with which it resounds, this is understandable. Mark's longer exposition of the symbolic masculine in the first narrative, and the overtones of the symbolic feminine that are given in the succeeding narratives, The Haemorrhagic Woman and Jairus' Daughter, compensate for any perceived brevity of the last member of the chain. The most relevant points of contact between these episodes are set out as follows:

The Gerasene Demoniac

The Syrophoenician's Daughter
They came to the other side of the sea, to the country of the Gerasenes. (Mark 5.1)

And when he had come out of the boat, there met him out of the tombs a man with an uncelan spirit (a!nqrwpov e)n pneu/mati a))kaqa/rtw?); (v 2)

when he saw Jesus from afar, he ran and worshiped him (proseku/nhsen au)tw~?); (v 6)

For he had said to him, "Come out  of the man, you unclean spirit ( e)!celqe to\ pneu~ma to\ a)kaqa/rton)!" (v 8)

Now a great herd of swine was feeding (boskome/nh) there on the hillside. (v 11)
and they begged him, "Send us into the swine, let us enter them." (v12)

So he gave them leave. And the unclean spirits came out, and entered the swine; and the herd, numbering about two thousand, rushed down the steep bank into the sea, and were drowned in the sea. (v 13)

And they came to Jesus, and saw the demoniac sitting there, clothed and in his right mind, the man who had had the legion; and they were afraid. (v 15)
And from there he arose and went away to the region of Tyre and Sidon. (Mark 7.24a)

But immediately a woman, whose little daughter was possessed by an unclean spirit (pneu~ma a)kaqa/rton),

heard of him, and came and fell down at his feet (prose/pesen pro\v tou\v po/dav au)tou~). (v 25)

And she begged him to cast the demon out ( e)kbalh?) of her daughter. (v 26b)

And he said to her, "Let the children first be fed (xortasqh~nai), for it is not right to take the children's bread and throw it to the dogs." (v 27)

But she answered him, "Yes, Lord; yet even the dogs under the table eat the children's crumbs." (v 28)
And he said to her, "For this saying you may go your way; the demon has left your daughter." (v 29)
And she went home, and found the child lying in bed, and the demon gone. (v 30)

No male figure, except Jesus, appears in the last healing; no female in the first. This, in addition to their peripheral locations, reinforces their alignment. We have commented already on the symbolism of the dog in relation to male homosexuality. Here its such meaning is redoubled by the reference to the woman's heritage: 'the woman was a Greek, a Syrophoenician by birth.' (E(llhni/v, Zurofoini/kissa tw~? ge/nei. Mark 7.26). Given the outcome however, it would be mistaken to charge Mark of any xenophobic bias. We have commented already on the tone of the text. It does not carry quite the same opprobrious quality of the exposition of the symbolic masculine in The Gerasene Demoniac. Certainly there is no hint of destruction, the specifically symbolic masculine form of evil, just as the foraging swine figured the eschatological form of anthropic evil, specific to the symbolic feminine, namely greed. These configurations of the sexual psychology of evil we encounter in The Apocalypse as it responds to the J creation narrative, and beyond; although we should guard against reading the same as chronologically pursuant to those myths. Essentially the real goal of The Apocalypse is to determine their inherent realities as expressed in the new dispensation regarding 'the lamb' and the future of the world. The Apocalypse skirts uneasily the disparity between a primordial past mythologised in the J narrative, and an envisioned future, which too bears signs of a similar if not the same epistemological status. For all their apparent disparity these are linked due to the immanence of the future within the past, which we might refer to as the history of the future. The serpent/dragon/satan/devil is the ultimate expression of this link.

The exchange between the Syrophoenician woman and Jesus however, does not rely either on a mythic past, or an imagined future. It is moreover that of equals. Jesus assumes no superior moral rectitude, just as was so in The Centurion's Servant. This is perhaps all the more surprising in that the first member of the inclusio involving 'swine', strikes us as more derogatory of homosexuality. Indeed the animals in this case, 'dogs' rather than swine, are to be fed, albeit with the children's crumbs. Both references in Mark (7.27, 28) and in Matthew (15.26, 27) to the household animals specify 'little dogs' (kuna/rion). This may be taken in association with the adolescence of the 'little daughter' (quya/trion v 26, par. Matthew 15.22, 28) or 'child' (paidi/on v 30), as well as with the neuter noun te/knon in the phrase 'children's bread' (Mark 7.2, par. Matthew 15.26). Her adolescent status is comparable to both the centurion's 'boy', the official's 'son', and the 'daughter' of Jairus. Any exegetical hermeneutic of the passages in light of their subtextual erotic nuances, must conjure with such facts. As a psychology of adolescent sexuality it would appear to stand midway between the latter two episodes and the former one. For the child herself like the son and daughter of those narratives, clearly exists within the framework of a familial setting. Even so the portrait given of her mother through the clear contextual links with the narrative of The Gerasene Demoniac is undeniable. It is definitely not drawing too long a bow to claim the presence of such nuances in the narratives. The verb used in conjunction with the children first being 'fed' (Mark 7.27: xortasqhnai~), we have already met in the stories of the feeding miracles and in the Lukan parable of The Lost Son, where clearly it carries the same semantic value. Inevitably an amount of genuine erotic freight attaches to it. Attempts to undermine the apparent effort on the part of the evangelists if not Jesus himself, to soften the judgement of the woman as well as her race, and so too, of homosexual love, must meet these facts, which are as important as they are subtle. A further fact in the case for interpreting the story in the light of human, that is 'animal', sexuality, must note also that Matthew uses the expressions 'faith' and 'desire' of the woman herself, in closest proximity. The final logion in Matthew's redaction links her with the other female protagonists portrayed in the same chain of events, The Haemorrhagic Woman and Jairus' Daughter, both of whom Mark connects with faith and with sexuality ( Mark 5.34, 36), while Matthew uses the word 'faith' of the former only (Matthew 9.22). Such a lapidary conclusion to the story remarkably emphasises both Christological forms of intentionality, belief and desire, a propos of the filial protagonist:

Then Jesus answered her, "O woman, great is your faith (pi/stiv)! Be it done for you as you desire (qe/leiv)." And her daughter was healed instantly. (Matthew 15.28)

First the Gerasene man among the tombs, then the condition of the haemorrhagic woman threatened Jesus with ritual impurity. Finally the Syrophoenician with her 'little dogs' at the last, act similarly. In both Mark and Matthew her story follows  immediately the discourse on purity, which utilises extensively the motif of eating (Mark 7.2, 3, 4, 5, 15; par. Matthew 15.2, 11, 17). Just prior to the healing miracle that discourse ends with the following:

And he said to them, "Then are you also without understanding? Do you not see that whatever goes into a man from outside cannot defile him, since it enters, not his heart  but his stomach (koili/an), and so passes on? (Thus he declared all foods clean.) And he said, "What comes out of a man is what defiles a man. For from within, out of the heart of man, come evil thoughts, fornication, theft, murder, adultery, coveting, wickedness, deceit, licentiousness, envy, slander, pride, foolishness. All these evil things come from within, and they defile a man. (Mark 7.18-23)

And he said, "Are you still without understanding? Do you not see that whatever goes into the mouth passes into the stomach (koili/an), and so passes on? But what comes out of the mouth proceeds from the heart, and this defiles a man. For out of the heart come evil thoughts, murder, adultery, fornication, theft, false witness, slander. These are what defile a man; but to eat with unwashed hands does not defile a man. (Matthew 15.16-20)

The first part of these quotes recalls the final recapitulation of the details of the two miracles of loaves (a)su/netoi/ e)ste; ou\ noei~te
Mark 7.18 c.f. ou!pw noei~te ou~de suni/ete Mark 8.17; par. a)su/netoi/ e)ste; ou\ noei~te  c.f. Matthew 15.16,17, ou!pw noe~ite Matthew16.9, ou) noei~te Matthew 16.11). Thus in its broader context, this last healing miracle of the chain which was initiated by The Gerasene Demoniac, sits between the two feeding miracle narratives. It is very likely that Mark is suggesting the illness of the little girl as due to the legacy of the woman's ethnic background, further to something quite similar in the case of the Gerasene man. In other words, the collective consciousness of the symbolic masculine. This entails not so much a case of guilt by association, but rather the healing of illness due to the same. If there is any possibility that the gospels contain a reference to the much neglected topic of female homosexuality, which is not explicitly mentioned in the Tanakh, it is indeed here. It would be equally arguable that the text may refer also to sexual practices exclusive of penovaginal intercourse, which while being attributable to homosexual men and women, are, and just as surely were, practised by heterosexual couples. This equally possible allusion accords with the reference to 'little dogs'. It is not necessary to make an inventory of these practices here,  but the expression 'unclean', which occurs in both pericopae, even though it might be applied to sexual congress in general and in its least insalubrious, the penovaginal form, especially by an evangelist of Mark's rather than Luke's ilk, suggests such  unorthodoxy of not heterodoxy.

Mark's description of the woman as 'a Greek, a Syrophoenician by birth' invites such likelihoods, albeit diffidently, by means of the close ties the last pericope maintains with the first. The latter I certainly believe contains a reference to male homosexuality as roundly stated as would be possible, given the constraints under which he is writing. What applies in the case of references to the genital body in the Tanakh applies perhaps even more so in the case of the New Testament. It is important to note that the woman's successful negotiation mitigates Jesus' initial tone, not apparently adversarial, but certainly indifferent. If in the case of The Gerasene Demoniac too, there is successful negotiation of sorts, the swine are nevertheless fit ultimately for destruction, an end which they themselves accomplish. Once again the ethnic ('collective') identity of the malevolent powers, denoted in the word 'Legion' (legiw\n v 9), is vital to the precise meaning of the event. Surely it is fair to say that noting the context of the genital body, and sexuality as signified by the motif of feeding animals, the concept of homosexual behaviour surfaces in both narratives. Even if it is not their paramount, and I do not mean to suggest it as such, it would seem likely that any theological understanding of the subhuman and superhuman realms both as encompassed within salvation envisaged in terms of both gospels, Mark and Luke, must answer the need, now more pressing than ever, to account for the phenomenon of same-sex love.

And if I seem to some to have laboured the homophile motif in these narratives when it is less than pronounced, and even if pronounced, is less than central, the reasons are indeed pronounced and central. Christian sexual ethical teaching has betrayed itself on this matter. Perhaps even more importantly is that those doctrinal motifs of subhuman and superhuman beings in the narratives, those stories which speak of animals and angels in close connection with sexuality and the body, cannot so I believe, be understood without reference to the phenomena of same-sex love. Due largely to its intransigence, current mainstream 'Christian' sexual ethical doctrine remains impotent to give an adequate ontological explication for these matters, in spite of the insights and revisions garnered by hard-won juridical and psychological advances. My purpose
here has been to indicate only the broadest outlines of an introduction towards such an account given certain clues in these narratives.

The question of the nature of collective consciousness is yet more intriguing than any theology of sexuality inclusive of homosexual love, and that presents itself here in unison with the issue of collective identity, which is a primary concern of the texts.
In drawing on the parallels between Mark's text and its Matthean redaction, and in emphasising the role of collective identity, we are bound to comment on Matthew's alteration of the ethnic background of the woman. He refers to her as Canaanite (Xananai/a, Matthew 15.22), a word which occurs nowhere else in the New Testament, if we disallow it as equivalent to 'the Cananaean' of Mark's cognomen, 'Simon the Cananaean' (Kananai~on, var. Kananithn, Mark 3.18 par. Matthew 10.4). In the present climate of political sensitivity to specific biblical texts, this same designation has been marshaled, somewhat implausibly it must be said, in relation to the very troublesome Old Testament traditions regarding the cherem conducted in the conquest of Canaan,  but not as an apologia for the same. This is indeed a barely sustainable interpretation of the text. For all that, it  nevertheless brings to the forefront another essential accord between the two healing stories. In both cases, the symbolic masculine qua the military, whether 'Gentile' or 'Jewish', is ever present in the background, conformably to the animal motif. More than simple animality qua sexuality is implied in both cases. Thus the two narratives revert once again to the aporia surrounding the possibility of a transcendent polarity of what is essentially immanent, the anthropic. But this cannot be avoided, because the entire gamut of forms of unity, that is, all three conceptual categories - space : time, mind : body and male : female - contradict the essential character of pure conceptuality criteriologically defined in terms of identity or subjecthood  and transcendence. Mark arranges the three categories together for this very reason, in the three stories dealing with women: The Haemorrhagic Woman, Jairus' Daughter and The Syrophoenician Woman respectively. Of course the last of these categories, the symbolic feminine, remains the most at variance with the nature of a pure conceptual form. The symbolic feminine is the least conceptual, the least transcendental of any 'idea'. It is the most 'concrete' of any 'abstraction'. Its teleological and eschatological rank vouches for this. It is effectively only a moment away from the categories of actual immanence, the forms of memory, and so the mention of 'children's loaves' and 'children's crumbs' (Mark 7.27, 28) point directly to both feeding miracle stories which are replete with quanta detailing the material nature of existence, stories between which it sits so adroitly.

Both healing miracle narratives therefore supply us with untold insights into the human condition, and
of course into the nature of same-sex love, even while the latter is not their main purpose, perhaps the reason why the semeia are if anything understated, but an essential element in both narratives. For the theology of sexuality we need to consult the broader picture of desire in particular, and that of what has been called faith-in-desire, and here, Luke is our best guide. On the same topic however, that of homosexual relationships, we have observed already the breadth of his views in having examined the story of The Centurion's Slave. It is a narrative with obvious parallels to The Syrophoenician Woman, and I do not mean simply, in terms of being a healing of a gentile. Of course the theme of homosexuality is explicit in the Lukan (and Matthean) versions of that incident, a fact which sorts very well with the same in The Syrophoenician Woman, and by extension, The Gerasene Demoniac. Regarding the question of faith, which in Matthew's account forms the resounding conclusion, we should note its absence from the Markan redaction, whose conclusion simply reads:

And he said to her, "For this saying (lo/gon) you may go your way; the demon has left your daughter." And she went home (ei)v to\n oi)~kon), and found the child lying in bed, and the demon gone." (Mark 7.29, 30)

Here the species of desire proper to the symbolic feminine emerges; we have referred to it as 'economic'. It was also present, and indeed, paramount in the story of The Centurion's Slave, with whose denouement also this story is in harmony. It would be well worthwhile to pursue the obvious juxtaposition between the two non-human sets of beings in both narratives in relation to the vexed theology of sexual desire, which is clearly encompassing of homosexual desire. I mean by this, the presence in both pericopae of subhuman and superhuman beings: animals on the one hand and 'pneumatic' creatures on the other. Neither is shown as equal to humans, for both are linked with uncleanness. More interestingly, they are contrasted one with the other, precisely as foils to what is genuinely anthropic. In the first story, the 'unclean spirits' play the more significant role, but in the last, the 'little dogs' assume a parallel role. Even so, the human itself as such yet bears traces of both the superhuman and subhuman; it must be somehow linked to both orders of being. This strand of the texts belongs of course to the larger picture Mark envisions of the economy of salvation, especially as inclusive of sexual transgressors. It also belongs as indicated in the introductory healing miracle story, to a theological understanding of death; or at least, Mark's own theological understanding of animal and 'spiritual' existence is integral to his theology of time and death. What then is the connecting link between the aconscious and death, as somehow consisting of these two juxtaposed but related realms of being, one animal, the other spiritual? That question we shall have to defer.

In all of this, Mark does not shy away from the humanity of Jesus himself, from what in a certain respect, is the engendered body of 'the sacrifice', a fact which resonated in the apocalyptic visions of 'the end' since these implicitly involve warfare. I mean of course the thanksgiving for life itself. The sacrifice of life for the sake of life, which is decisive for the Lukan soteriology of desire and faith-in-desire, since these are themselves consistently presented as 'Eucharistic'. We saw in Jairus' Daughter that he '[took] her by the hand' (Mark 5.41), for Jairus himself has already asked that Jesus '"come and lay ... hands on her, so that she may be made well and live."' (5.23b). We saw also in The Haemorrhagic Woman that '[she] came up behind him in the crowd and touched his garment' (5.27). Matthew says 'the fringe of his garment' (tou~ kraspe/dou tou~ i)mati/ou au)tou~, Matthew 9.20, as does Luke (Luke 8.44)).  To these we might also add the prostrations of three figures in the texts. For their bodily attitudes before Jesus are certainly physicalistic, and this adds to the weight of a necessarily male presence of Jesus:

And when he saw ( I)dw\n) Jesus from afar, he ran and worshiped (proseku/hsen) him ... (Mark 5.6)

Then came one of the rulers of the synagogue, Jairus by name; and seeing ( i)dw\n) him, he fell at his feet ... ( i)dw\n au)to\n pi/ptei pro\v tou\v po/dav au)tou~ (Mark 5.22))

But immediately a woman, whose little daughter was possessed by an unclean spirit, heard of him, and came and fell down at his feet. (prose/pesen pro\v tou\v po/dav au)tou~ Mark 7.25))

There is of course nothing explicitly sexual in any of these statements. But having noticed the use of a possible periphrasis, 'heel' in the second creation story (bq"(f, Genesis 3.15) for the phallos, we should be well aware here of any overtones alluding to the person of Jesus himself. He is no mere bloodless abstraction; but an enfleshed, and specifically male human being. Of course the other two Pneumatological haptika, those which will designate optic memory and optic imagination, and whose semiosis we may now address, will include the hands and feet. These members of the body are mentioned in the first exorcism

... for he had often been bound with fetters and chains, but the chains he wrenched apart, and the fetters he broke in pieces; and no one had the strength to subdue him. (Mark 5.4, 5)



Like the  two other Pneumatological signs, these too relate to movement, as the means for changing the situation or locatedness of the entire body, although in the case of humans, this is virtually confined to the lower limbs. We saw the idea of movement highly prevalent in the visions of Ezekiel. It is germane to the doctrine of intentionality also, where the Pneumatological modes, all of which are hybrids, consistently represent the transition from the conative to the cognitive. Of course the genital bodies, the phallos and uterus, are not precisely similar in this respect. They do not serve the relocation of the body itself; but their function in the generation of the species means very much the same thing: the passage of the human species through time. In the case of the arms and legs we are not dealing with the conceptual consciousness but with its perceptual polar equivalents: the optic memory and optic imagination. These are counterparts to the symbolic feminine and masculine respectively. We find their somatic/haptic signifiers easily identified in the two relevant healing miracles in Mark. The fact that the limbs, and not the eyes themselves, designate the optic radicals of consciousness reminds us that the sign and the signified are distinct. This was the reason why, in beginning with the animal body, the genital body, we stressed the exception to this fact in their case. It could hardly be possible to use the one organ, the eye, for two quite distinct, even if related categories, optic memory and optic imagination. How should we distinguish between them? So the semiosis of the two pairs of limbs configures these two Pneumatological perceptual radicals in their symmetrical as well as antithetical constitutions.

And they came to Jericho; and as he was leaving Jericho with his disciples and a great multitude, Bartimaeus, a blind beggar, the son of Timaeus, was sitting by the roadside. And when he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to cry out and say, "Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!" And many rebuked him, telling him to be silent; but he cried out all the more, "Son of David, have mercy on me!" And Jesus stopped and said, "Call him." And they called the blind man, saying to him, "Take heart; rise, he is calling you." And throwing off his mantle ( i(ma/tion au)tou~) he sprang up and came to Jesus. And Jesus said to him, "What do you want (qe/leiv) me to do for you?" And the blind man said to him, "Master, let me receive my sight. " And Jesus said to him, "Go your way; your faith (pi/stiv) has made you well." And immediately he received his sight and followed him on the way. (Mark 10.46-52)

Neither of the other two synoptic redactions (Luke 18.35-43, Matthew 20.29-34) contains the single vital mention the action on the part of Bartimaeus which identifies the haptic semeion: '... and throwing off his mantle ...' (emphasis added). The word itself is a generic term, and is usually rendered as 'garment'. We find it in The Haemorrhagic Woman (Mark 5.27) and The Transfiguration (Mark 9.3). In the latter case, it occurs in the plural form ta/ i(mati/a, which generally denotes 'clothes', so too for example, in The Apocalypse 3.4.
The singular noun especially means an 'upper garment': 'a piece of dress; in usage always of an outer garment, formed by an oblong piece of cloth worn above the χιτών' (Liddell and Scott).

Matthew records the event as the cure of two blind men, to whom he does not refer as 'beggars', nor does his account contain the vital mention of the haptic sign (Matthew 20.29-34), although he does in fact say 'Jesus in pity touched ( h!qato) their eyes, and immediately they received their sight and followed him." (v 34). Luke maintains the beggarly status of Bartimaeus. Luke at least follows this pericope with that of Jesus and Zacchaeus (Luke 19.1-9), which does indeed resonate with both signs, the upper limbs for the optic memory, and the lower limbs for the optic imagination. In that episode we hear:

And he sought to see ( i)dei~n) Jesus, but could not, on account of the crowd, because he was small of stature. So he ran on ahead and climbed up into a sycamore tree to see ( i!na i!dh?) him, for he was to pass that way. And when Jesus came to the place, he looked up ( a)nable/yav) and said to him, "Zacchaeus make haste and come down; for I must stay at your house today."(Luke 19.3-5).

The wealth of Zachaeus, a tax collector, (vv 2, 8) positively restates the psychic value of optic memory, which implements the drive towards economic satisfaction, just as
the penury of Bartimaeus does so negatively. In this same story, the tree also serves to remind us of both semeia. Not for nothing do we speak of the 'limbs' of a tree. It was an important element in the depiction of the symbolic masculine in the Day 3 rubric, just as it will be in the story of The Blind Man At Bethsaida, who, before his whole cure is effected, mistakes trees for men.

And they came to Bethsaida. And some people brought to him a blind man, and begged him to touch ( a!yhtai) him. And he took the blind man by the hand, and led him out of the village; and when he had spit on his eyes, and laid his hands upon him, he asked him, "Do you see anything (ei! ti ble/peiv)? And he lloked up and said, "I see men ( a)nqw/pouv); but they look like trees walking (w(v de/ndra o(rw~ peripatou~ntav)." Then again he laid his hands upon his eyes; and he looked intently (die/bleyen) and was restored, and saw (e)neble/yen) everything clearly. And he sent him away to his home, saying, "Do not even enter the village." (Mark 8.22-26)

Both Matthew and Luke omit this particular healing miracle story from their collections. In the gospel of John we have a lengthy description of the healing of a blind man (John 9.1-34 ), which occupies almost an entire chapter. It is placed in the second half of his gospel, initiated by the miracle, The Walking On The Sea. This is the only occasion John employs the formula of a crossing to 'the other side of the sea' (John 6.22). John's arrangement of 'signs' effectively follows the pattern of Days. Not only does his gospel contain seven miracle stories, and not only are they arranged in parallel form, as are the creation rubrics, whereas the synoptic pattern is to alternate a miracle of the immanent type with one of the transcendent type. For John seems to be intent on emphasising the role of transcendence. We gather as much from the opening hymn to the logos and from the repetition of the light motif throughout the gospel, and from the construct of 'above : below' iterating the categoreal paradigm. The motif of light, the Christological sign in the creation narrative par excellence, is employed in the last two miracles, The Man Born Blind, and The Raising Of Lazarus. It may well be that Jesus' action of making 'clay' from spittle is intended to recall the Day 3 story, involving the creation of the land. The role of the man's parents also invokes the theme of human generation, and knits together the several Pneumatologies of both narrative cycles. The beginning of the story seems to suggest this:

As he passed by, he saw a man blind from his birth. And his disciples asked him, "Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?" Jesus answered, "It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be made manifest ( i(/na fanerwqh~?) in him. We must work the works of him who sent me while it is day; night comes, when no one can work. As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world." As he said this, he spat on the ground and made clay (phlo\n) with the spittle and anointed the man's eyes with the clay (phlo\n), saying to him, "Go, wash in the pool of Siloam" (which means Sent). So he went, and washed and came back seeing. (John 9.1-7)

The instructions to the man involving the pool (kolumbh/qran) complete the 'land-waters' binary of Day 3. There is no mention of 'walking' in this narrative. The slant in this second last of the Johannine signs veers towards the immanent, in favour of which the Pneumatological is always necessarily weighted. Even so, the event concerns a man and not a woman. In which regard, the pericope sorts with the remaining two in the latter half of the arrangement of the signs in John. We saw in the case of The Raising Of Lazarus, that it was not easy to decide which of the two relevant Christological radicals the event denotes: haptic imagination or mind, that is, virtual transcendence which remains at heart immanent, or actual transcendence, transcendence proper.
We were never told the reason for the death of Lazarus. Had it been leprosy for example, that pericope should have been read in light of the perceptual category. (Luke contains a parable which associates a man by the same name with just some sort of dermatological illness, describing him as 'full of sores' (Luke 16.19-31)). In the end however, it seemed that the balance weighs in favour of the latter. Something similar occurs here. John understand optic sentience as the property of the Holy Spirit, and this itself as therefore decisively immanent. But optic sentience nevertheless exists in a transcendent guise, or a virtually transcendent guise: that of optic imagination. The connection between the two Pneumatological forms, the conceptual category, symbolic masculine, to which John also refers in the epilogue to the pericope under a Christological formula 'Son of man' (John 9.35), and the perceptual category, optic imagination, is so well drawn that one cannot fail to notice it. Of course the illness is the deciding factor; the man is blind, and this denotes a perceptual rather than a conceptual category.

The two references in both Markan accounts to the specific haptikon are characteristically singular and brief; but they are all that we require. The logic which combines them, like that which associates the previous Pneumatological semeia is robust. For not only do both haptika connote movement as do no other, they encode what is the obvious complementary disparity between memory and imagination. Here the fundamental binary of sexual dimorphism is pertinent. We speak of it as internalising in the case of the symbolic feminine and externalising in the case of the symbolic masculine. The extensive relatedness between the conceptual consciousness and its perceptual equivalents has already been discussed. The primordial category, space : time, itself suffers the very same binary disposition as that of perceptual consciousness. For the latter is always disposed in virtue of the radical dimorphism of the spatiotemporal manifold itself. That is, sense-percipient consciousness obtains either in virtue of the past, such as optic memory, or the future, such as optic imagination. All perceptual categories are party to this categoreally paradigmatic structure. This analogous relatedness justifies the isomorphism of the narrative cycles and its propositional content.

The reason for discerning the semeia in the first place, is that they function in consciousness mimetically of such radical factors. For the joints of the limbs, upper and lower, articulate in opposing directions: the elbows bend backwards, into the past; whereas the knees bend forwards, into the future. The arms thus function in equilibrium and oppositionally to the manner in which the legs carry us almost invariably forward. (It should be clear from this that in speaking of arms and synonymously of upper limbs, and also of legs and synonymously of lower limbs, I mean by 'arm' or 'upper limb', the entirety of the bodily member from the periphery of the shoulder to the wrist; and by 'leg' or 'lower limb', the member or somatikon extending from the uppermost section of the thigh to the foot, inclusively of the latter. The exclusion of the hand from the upper limb or arm in this schema, comports with some well-known facts about the hand concerning the amount of nerves it contains, as well as the fine articulations of which the constituent fingers are capable. In humans the foot never matches these in any respect.)

These are important aspects of somatic morphology which bear immediately upon the nature of consciousness, and finally upon the phenomena of language and communication. We shall say more of this in due course, but here, we need only understand the barest relevant details of the haptika in question. The radically dimorphic constitution of the limbs is in keeping also with the apparent disparity of the dimoprhic genital bodies. Thus the arms contain; to embrace is to enclose, to envelop, to incorporate. In this way the arms are 'uterine' or symbolically feminine, rather than 'phallic', that is, symbolically masculine, which latter of course the legs are. Not only do our legs propel us forward, thrusting us into what lies before us in space, but they disjoin space itself, separating it into steps, paces, lengths greater and smaller. Both bodily members of course, arms and legs, furnish us with a raft of expressions we use in describing the measurement of physical objects and of space itself: 'arm's length', 'foot', 'handspan', are just some examples. This evinces their epistemic identities in the theological doctrine of intentionality, to which we have already alluded. But we more frequently compute distance in terms of the mensural capacity of the lower limbs, precisely just as these rather than the arms, are our means of locomotion.

What is then true of the Pneumatological miracle stories which posit the two perceptual radicals, is true also of the Pnuematologies of conceptual consciousness: namely the concept of movement and change is foremost. This fits of course with most of the scriptural images of the Holy Spirit, beginning with their introduction in Genesis 1.2:
In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. Now the earth was without shape and empty, and darkness was over the surface of the watery deep, but the Spirit of God was moving over the surface of the water. (Genesis 1.1-2 NET Bible)
The limbs, whether those of the upper or lower body, which are the haptika for the optic memory and optic imagination respectively, are just those members which are capable of movement. The torso is a different case altogether, as is the head. The genitalia, the uterus and phallos, as haptika for the conceptual forms symbolic feminine and symbolic masculine respectively, are just as signal of change, only this time as change through the evolutionary process, and as pointing to the conceptual rather than the perceptual polarity of consciousness. These four semeia thus embody what is arguably the chief characteristic of the Holy Spirit. We noticed the prevalence of movement in the book of Ezekiel, the single greatest exponent of the theology of the Holy Spirit in the Tanakh. The same applies to its equivalent in the New Testament, The Apocalypse. The theology of haptic semiotic forms confirms this attribute.

These four Pneumatological semeia will have to be reckoned with the other eight in the propositions which we shall pursue as  central to a Christian theory of language, inseparably from the theology of the Word. It will be incumbent upon us to co-ordinate the various numerical details of the immanent messianic miracles which have to do with the perceptual consciousness, and further to these, the theologies of transcendence of both Genesis and the gospels. Here for the moment, instead we have dealt briefly but we hope succinctly, with the four Pneumtological haptika: uterus, phallos, upper limbs, and lower limbs, as these are a discernible and indispenable component of the healing miracle narratives, which themselves are logically predicated on the two sixfold series of the stories of creation and salvation. We may now turn to the four Christological haptika.



The stories of The Paralytic and Jairus' Daughter (Mark 2.1-12, and 5.21-24a, 35-43 respectively), confirm what the rubrics of Day 1 and Day 4 disclose: the two conceptual forms, mind and mind : body (soma). The former, the true conceptual form mind, is normative. If we have not yet said enough concernng faith-in-desire and the manner in which it modulates autonomy, which is normatively or criteriologically defined by the true conceptual form mind, rather than by the form of unity mind : body, this is why. The fuller discussion of the intentional mode faith belongs to the last stage of our enquiry, which will address the gospel of John.

Luke and Matthew contain versions of both healing miracle pericopae, so we can consult their redactions wherever they yield insights into the theology of haptic semiotic form. The story of The Paralytic is situated quite early in the gospel, it is the third healing miracle in Mark, who places it immediately after The Leper. That story identifies the haptic imagination, a radical of consciousness we can best describe as 'virtually' transcendent, meaning that it is haptic memory which defines the perceptual category normatively. So haptic imagination, like all perceptual imaginal forms, subscribes to transcendence, but it nonetheless complies with the strictures of immanence rather than transcendence. So too it is part of the aconscious rather than the conscious mind. But it is nevertheless the perceptual equivalent of mind. The story of The Transfiguration corresponds to the Day 1 rubric, within the analogous relation of the conceptual forms to perceptual forms. This pattern of two miracle stories revealing Christological categories, the first, the perceptual category of virtual transcendence, the haptic imagination, and the second, the conceptual category of actual transcendence, the mind, is reminiscent of the editing of  The Stilling Of The Storm which is followed immediately by The Gerasene Demoniac. These are both Pneumatololgies: the first considers the perceptual category of virtual transcendence, optic imagination, and the second, the category of actual transcendence, the symbolic masculine. The  two Christological radicals are deployed in the gospel of John to an significant degree. Thus their resultant modes of intentionality, faith and the desire-to-know, are integral to Johannine soteriology. The story of The Leper sits within the corpus of twelve healing miracles identically to The Transfiguration, and the story of The Paralytic is identical to the Day 1 rubric, taxonomically, given the isomorphic relation between Genesis and the gospel, the creation and messianic series. Mark's redaction is therefore fully intelligible.

Since we examined previously the narrative in regard to its central topic, mind, there is no need to repeat that argumentation in detail.
The miracle story is replete with references to the mental states of the various characters: the man's bearers, 'some of the scribes', 'them all',  with which Jesus 'preaching the word to them' accords insofar as it too highlights the role and functioning of mind. Luke like Mark places the two narratives one after the other (Luke 5.12-16, vv 17-27), but Matthew omits The Leper, so that the event comes after the healing of two demoniacs in 'the country of the Gadarenes' (Matthew 8.28-34, vv 9.1-7), his retelling of The Gerasene Demoniac. The man is consistently described as paralyzed paralutiko\n (Mark 2.2, 4, 5, 8 par. Matthew 9.2, 6,  c.f. Luke 5.18 paralelume/nov, 'being paralyzed', 'enfeebled, 'disabled'). Matthew previously used paralutiko/v in The Centurion's Servant (Matthew 8.6), and he listed it even earlier, among a general summary of healing (Matthew 4.2, paralutikou/v). In the ensuing drama, this very condition is clearly pictured. The Markan and Lukan versions have the man's four bearers lower him from the roof of the house in which Jesus is preaching, directly into his presence. Matthew omits this detail. (Luke does not give a precise number of those who bring the man to be healed, but his description follows Mark's so that it would certainly require the same number. The man's four bearers act as his own limbs:

And behold, men were bringing on a bed ( e)pi\ kli/nhv) a man who was paralyzed, and they sought to bring him in and lay him before him [Jesus]. (Luke 5.18)

The man being immobilized by his illness, suggests nothing so much as the central bodily zone, the great pivot or axis of the body, the pelvis. Just possibly, Luke's phrase 'into the midst before [ Jesus]' alludes to this, the hips. The hips certainly conform to the forward aspect of the soma. The phrase itself, ei)v to\ me/son e)/mprosqen reads literally 'in the middle before'; ei)v to\ e)/mprosqen means itself means 'forwards', and e)/xetai me/sov, as in Aristotle, means 'by the middle', 'by the waist', being 'proverb[ial] from the wrestling-ring'.
The hips, or pelvis, whatever we choose to call this member, remains the point at which all the movement of the body is more or less concentrated to a point. Our sense of forwards and backwards, upwards and downwards, to the left and to the right, effectively our sense of the three-dimensional space in which we live and move, is focused at this section of the body. In just this way, it contrasts completely with not only the interiority but also the immobility and passivity of the visceral body, the gut, the antithetical sign designating the soma (mind : body) rather than mind. Mark's Greek is less refined on this point. His description of the action of the four men's actions reads:

And when they could not get near him because of the crowd, they removed the roof above him; and when they had made an opening, they let down the pallet on which the paralytic lay. (Mark 2.4)

The Christology of the pericope is thoroughgoing. Its pronounced invocation of the resurrection, the expression "Rise ( e)/geire), take up your pallet and ...." is used twice (Mark 2.9, 11), and the verb 'to rise' is used once more in the description of the cure (v 12). It will be used again directly (Mark 3.3.) in the story of The Man With A Withered Hand, another Christological healing miracle.

The semiotic theology of touch itself is Christological, as already noted, and we find fairly conspicuous references to filiality in the narratives under scrutiny. We have already treated in some detail the story of Jairus' Daughter. The mention of 'little daughter' along with its cognates, 'daughter', 'child', 'little girl', all testify to the Christological tenor of the story (Mark 5.23, 35, 39, 40, 41). The semeion, the haptic sign for the body itself is readily identified in the conclusion:

And he strictly charged them that no one should know this, and told them to give her something to eat. (Mark 5.43 emphasis added).

And her spirit returned, and she got up at once; and he directed that something should be given her to eat. (Luke 8.55 emphasis added).

Matthew omits this last important detail
(Matthew 9.18-19, 23-26). However his recension of the two pericopae, The Haemorrhagic Woman and Jairus' Daughter, follows immediately The Discourse On Fasting (Matthew 9.14-17), which speaks of 'wedding guests' and 'the bridegroom' (v 15), as well as of 'new wine' and 'wineskins'. All of these expressions, and indeed the entire discourse, confirm the hermeneutic we are making: namely that the body itself as a conceptual form, gives rise to the intentionality of faith-in-desire, and that this acts in the aconscious in closest league with the intentionality of actual desire. They also confirm the semeion, perhaps even more so in its canonical guise, that of the erotic, as it is given to us in the classical and Johannine exposition, The Transformation Of Water Into Wine. The body represents itself in the consciousnessby means of the gut, the belly, the stomach. We mean of course the abdominal cavity which encloses so many of the vital organs, most notably, the stomach. The preparation for such a conclusion has already been given in the book of Jonah, in which this sign plays such an important role. The same figure is roundly confirmed in Lukan soteriology, with its habitual presentations of an almost relentlessly commensal Jesus. In the gospel of Luke the resurrection itself is understood as indistinguishable from the phenomenon of eating and drinking, where of course, they are viewed as essential to well-being in general, to psychophysical health. But the real intent behind the link lies in the Eucharistic event, penultimate to the very consummation of the gospel. Luke's editing of The Discourse On Fasting (Luke 5.33-39), faithfully preserves the Markan one, as it sits between two pericopae, The Calling Of Levi and Plucking Grain On The Sabbath (Luke 5.27-32 and 6.1-5), preparatory to the story of The Man With A Withered Hand. The relation of these semeia to their perceptual equivalents will square with the same as we remarked for the Pneumatological signs. Moreover, examination of the two healing miracle narratives which treat the Christological perceptual categories, haptic memory and haptic imagination, will forward our understanding of the two haptika which signify the Christological conceptual radicals.



The healing stories positing these perceptual radicals are respectively: The Man With A Withered Hand, a version of which all three synoptic gospels contain (Mark 3.1-6, Matthew 12.9-14, Luke 6.6-11), and The Leper, likewise (Mark 1.40-45, Matthew 8.2-4, Luke 5.12-16). The first of these, since it is intimately germane to the specifically Lukan soteriological perspective, we have already investigated. No uncertainty whatsoever attaches to the sign for haptic memory. We noticed that Luke himself mentioned it in the narrative immediately prior to his recension of the healing, Plucking Grain On The Sabbath, in the context of appetition:

On a sabbath, while he was going through the grainfileds, his disciples plucked and ate some heads of grain, rubbing them in their hands. (Luke 6.1, emphasis added.)

As observed just now, the hand sits in its relation to the visceral body or gut, similarly to the relationship obtaining between the arms and the uterine body. All of these signs are conformable to the symbolic feminine, just as the derma, pelvis, legs and phallos compose the symbolic masculine body. The hand, readily capable of containment as well as grasping that which we eat and drink, is eo ipso readily associated with actual eating and drinking as is the stomach itself. So in each synoptic gospel the pericopae which culminate in the miracle story telling for the haptikon, begin with the narrative concerning Levi:

And as he sat at table in his house, many tax collectors and sinners were sitting with Jesus and his disciples; for there were many who followed him. (Mark 2.15)

And as he sat at table in the house, behold many tax collectors and sinners came and sat down with Jesus and his disciples. (Matthew 9.10)

And Levi made him a great feast in his house; and there was a large company of tax collectors and others sitting at table with them. (Luke 5.19)

In all three synoptic gospels, this story follows that of The Leper, although not immediately in Mark and Luke. Such redaction establishes the contrast between haptic imagination and haptic memory which the story of Levi/Matthew announces. A consistently Christological theme is sustained throughout these narratives, but the introduction of the calling story marks
the move from transcendent Christology to immanent Christology. There is in fact an even greater contrast subtended by the actually transcendent Christology of mind, as given by the story The Paralytic, which immediately succeeds that of the virtuallly transcendent Christology of The Leper, in both Mark and Luke if not Matthew. For the story of The Paralytic is normative for transcendence, in fullest contrast to the normative theology of Christological immanence, haptic memory in The Man With A Withered Hand. This best explains much of the editing in the section of the synoptics. It is useful to think of this contrast between The Paralytic and The Man With A Withered Hand as the juxtaposition of faith and desire. Both are Christological forms of intentionality; but they differ not just as does the conative from the cognitive. They are juxtaposed even more contrastively, in terms of the categoreal paradigm, transcendence and immanence. Faith is normative and thus for transcendent cognition, and desire is so for immanent conation. The texts have therefore been judiciously placed with this fact in focus. The shift from the previous miracle of healing, The Paralytic, to the story about Levi's commissioning, whose name has been changed to Matthew in the gospel of that name, expresses a caesura.

As there is no difficulty in determining the sign for haptic memory, the hand, neither is there any for understanding the sign for haptic imagination, nor the connecting link. The derma, the skin, is the haptikon for haptic imagination. We encountered it in the messianic miracle, The Transfiguration, in the metaphor of clothing. Their link is complete and perfectly depicted in the two narratives:

And he looked around at them with anger, grieved at their hardness of heart, and said to the man, "Stretch out your hand ( e)!kteinon th\n xeir~a)." He stretched it out (kai\ e)ce/teinen), and his hand was restored. (Mark 3.5)

Moved with pity, he stretched out his hand ( e)keti/nav th/n xei~ra) and touched him (h(/yato), and said to him, "I will; be clean." (Mark 1.41)

And he looked around on them all, and said to him, "Stretch out your hand ( e!kteinon th\n xei~ra)." And he did so, and his hand was restored. (Luke 6.10)

And he stretched out his hand, and touched him (kai\ e)ktei/nav th\n xei~ra h(/yato au)tou~) saying, "I will; be clean." (Luke 5.13)

The proximity as well as the reduplication, of explicit terms in these pericopae tend towards identifying Jesus himself with the protagonist of The Man With The Withered Hand, just as John's initial messianic miracle presents him, appositely to haptic memory itself, the background of which for John is the event of incarnation. Of course, to the same categoreal radical belongs haptic imagination. For haptic memory is necessarily compounded with its antithetical complement, haptic imagination. This we saw from the theme of purification however briefly, mentioned in that first messianic miracle. So too, desire simpliciter, is never without the desire-to-know. whereas the latter, both the perceptual radical haptic imagination, and the mode of intentionality, desire-to-know, although they are relegated to the aconscious, exist in a state of virtual independence, as entailed by the theology of transcendence, even in the case of virtual transcendence.

Kurt Queller (in JBL winter 2010), has constructed a link between the action depicted in the later Christological miracle and the Exodus liberation narrative, in which Moses receives the same (divine) command "stretch out your hand", in order that the waters of the Sea of Reeds should part (Exodus 14.16). He compares also the phrases "in(to) the midst of the sea" (Exodus 14,16, 22, 23 LXX), and the instruction by Jesus to the man in the synagogue "arise into the midst" (Mark 3.6), noting 'the awkwardness of this formulation', and that 'a further possible allusion to Pharaoh and his retainers is found in Mark's reference to the adversaries' "hardness of heart" (v 5).' That may be as it is; but it certainly misses the more immediately important theological rapport between the two miracle stories themselves: The Leper and The Man With A Withered Hand. Both are premised on the phenomenon of haptic sentience. Furthermore, it misses the important relation between The Paralytic and The Man With A Withered Hand, which delineate the two normative Christological categoreal forms, mind and haptic memory. It would seem preferable instead to concentrate on the intertextuality within Mark's gospel itself. Hence a reasonable case may be certainly be put, that the awkwardness of the prepositional phrase, 'into the midst', serves for Luke at least, two ends. One is certainly to link the two Christological healing miracle narratives, underlining the oppositional and logical relation of their subjects, mind and haptic memory; and the other is to emphasise the actual haptikon for mind, the subject of the first pericope, The Paralytic. Even if this same expression is present only in Luke's recension of the text, where it may function correctively, it is yet another epistemological ligature forged by somatic theology, reinforcing the anatomy of mind as determined by the two Christological normative, conscious radicals: transcendent mind, and haptic memory.

Whereas Mark repeats the verb dialogi/zomai once more than Luke in the first episode, and does not use it at all in the second, Luke uses it only twice in The Paralytic, but uses it again in The Man With The Withered Hand, sustaining another connection between the two normative Christological categories. The conspicuous repetition of this expression on the first occasion, along with others, certainly points to the categoreal form underlying the narrative, the conceptual form mind. Both evangelists draw attention to the controversy surrounding Jesus' actions in these incidents, although it would seem that Luke himself is even more intent than Mark on stating the particularly close ties between the two entities. This ensures their shared Christological purpose, quite in spite of their differing milieux. We might say that Luke's view on the nature of thought stresses its conative function, particularly as this is is manifest in desire. The subtextual portrait of desire in The Man With A Withered Hand relies, as does the later episode, The Crippled Woman (Luke13.10-17), which we have already examined, on the contrast between the ingenuous nature of physical desire, depicted in terms of consumption, and the destructively resentful desire of the antagonists. That later healing also occurs in 'one of the synagogues', and also during the sabbath (Luke 13.10). But we must stress here the Christological aspects of the two earlier pericopae:

Now some of the scribes were sitting there, questioning in their hearts (dialogizo/menoi e)n tai~v kardi/aiv), "Why does this man speak thus? It is blasphemy! Who can forgive sins but God alone?" And immediately Jesus, perceiving ( e)pignou\v) in his spirit that they thus questioned in themselves (dialogi/zontai e)n e)autoi~v), said to them, "Why do you question thus in your hearts (dialogi/zesqe e)n tai~v kardi/aiv u(mw~n) ?" (Mark 2.6)

And the scribes and Pharisees began to question, saying, "Who can forgive sins but God only?" When Jesus perceived ( e)pignou\v) their questioning (dialogismou\v), he answered them, "Why do you question in your hearts (dialogi/zesqe e)n tai~v kardi/aiv u(mw~n)?" (Luke 5.22)

And he looked around at them with anger, grieved at their hardness of heart, and said to the man, "Stretch out your hand." He stretched it out, and his hand was restored. (Mark 3.5)

But he knew their thoughts (dialogismou\v au)tw~n), and said to the man who had the withered hand, "Come and stand here ( e!geire kai\ sth~qh ei)v to\ me/son)." (Luke 6.8)

This semeion, the axial body, the pelvic body, as haptikon for mind, puts paid to any wholesale equivalence of mind and brain. It repudiates at once physicalistic accounts which argue that mind is only an outcome of the various chemical neuronal processes at work in the brain. If we in our age tend to think this way, it is perhaps because of the intrinsic link between the head and the two linguistic forms of sentience, seeing and hearing. The eyes, ears, and nose are located in the head, and the brain itself is immediately connected to these in its bicameral organization. Language of course is well nigh what we mean by thought. So the reductionistic tendency to identify mind and brain, sits ready at hand. But the head, in particular the face, on whose front those same organs of perception are located, and even less so, the brain, does not account for mind in biblical semiotics. We shall see that it is indeed engaged in the theology of semiotic forms, and in an important respect, but not to signify what we mean by mind. We need to recall that here we are dealing not with physiology as such, but with the processes of symbolization. Central to the archaeological or primordial and teological semioses, those of acoustika and optika, remain the haptic semeia. For these are responsible for the real syntax which binds together those recognisably linguistic means, in that they provide consciousness with its capacity to reflexive awareness. It is the event of self-presentation for which the haptika are ultimately responsible, and without this, the categoreal structures delineated in the creation narratives and messianic series could not obtain in the first place. This event of self-presentation is the ground of pre-linguistic activity. It is central to the semiotic processes, and as involving touch, it provides the fundamental tissues of communication between persons. In this respect it lays the ground for the simultaneous co-ordination of the phonetic and graphic signs which are indeed words.

If this sign for mind, the central encircling zone of the soma and from which all movement changing the location of the body in space : time procedes, fosters any perplexity, we should remember the role of the primordial category, space, in consciousness, and that the axial or pelvic region of the body, delivers awareness of the same in a way altogether other than that of the sense-percipient organs. The hips enclose what is sometimes referred to as 'the centre of gravity' of the body, a point often specified as 'anterior to the second sacral vertebra', although of course, if it exists at all, it must vary according to the movement of the body itself, just as it must vary according to the variety of sizes and shapes of bodies, to say nothing of their sexual dimorphism. It may be thought of as the centre of the proprioceptive sense. Regardless of one's belief or disbelief in such a notion, the three-dimensional spatial manifold is primordial among the three pure conceptual forms, and this central somatic zone and no other, recurs to just such a construal, that of a three dimensional space. The P creation narrative we understood to have linked in terms of equal transcendence, the two pure conceptual forms, space and mind. If there is some means of bodily 'self'-representation of mind, in keeping with what we have said is the self-reflexive or self-referential aspect of the word 'word' (logov), some manner in virtue of which what is simultaneous with, if not prior to, the symbolic faculty, the linguistic faculty, attendant upon which is the awareness of the 'I am' as the mode of thought, then unsurprisingly it is realized somatically in this member of our anatomy. Certainly, on the reading of the articulation of the twelvefold categoreal scheme, and its radically triadic shape, it is a far more intelligible candidate for the same than the skull, the head, the brain, the face. The Paralytic focuses awareness well away from these. It is at this area of the soma that so many of the remaining haptika converge: the genitals, the gut, the lower limbs, the hands, hanging astride the hips, and the sacral vertebrae. This must count for something in any theoretical move towards a doctrine of 'embodied consciousness'. If we had to choose a single representative bodily member or zone for what is conveyed by terms such as 'mental', 'mind', 'consciousness', no better option offers itself.

The idea of movement is of course paramount in this. It is an idea portrayed in the miracle story as the undercurrent of emotions inspiriting the various persons involved, emotions occurring in sharp contrast to the physical immobility of the paralytic himself. Movement and space belong together in this sense; and the primordiality of the transcendent  threefold spatial dimension to mind, rather than the fourfold sense-percipient manifold, is what the narratives of The Paralytic envisage for the theology of semiotic forms. But the body, being the thing moving, and not the medium of uniform space through which it moves, is paramount; and the specific zone which immediately registers that movement is the great pivotal axis of the body. It is this which serves in semiotic consciousness to represent the mind. The singularity of what we encounter as the paradigm for mind in the healing miracle story rests upon the unmediated fact of proprioception. This varies radically from those sense-percipient processes, which respond to stimuli arising from the environing world. These are sometimes referred to as 'exteroceptive'. The awareness of the body's changing locations, its proproceptive awareness, differs also just as radically from so-called 'interoceptive' processes, those internal responses to stimuli produced internally by the organism, especially those within the gut. The latter semiologically nominates the soma rather than mind, the mind : body unity, rather than mind proper, which remains the true, actual, normative conceptual form.



The word 'Transcendental' in the above heading refers to 'the Transcendent', that is to "the Father" of classical Christian trinitarian doctrine. It belongs with the words 'Christological' and 'Pneumatological' in expressing the comprehensive theological rationale of the miracle stories. We use the expression 'transcendence' as it occurs in the categoreal paradigm transcendence : immanence, to denote the series of binary divisions within the texts under survey. Thus the creation series and messianic series replicate this classification. But there is a further division within each of these according to the same principle. This results in true or pure conceptual forms, which are those of actual transcendence - space, mind and the symbolic masculine - and forms of unity, or conceptual forms of unity, which are virtually immanent - space : time, mind : body and male : female. Analogously, the messianic series contains radicals of actual immanence - the three forms of memory - as well as radicals of virtual transcendence - the three forms of imagination. Due to their first level taxonomic status, categories of virtual transcendence do indeed manifest the characteristics of immanence; and categories of virtual immanence show characteristics of transcendence. Nevertheless, it is necessary to grasp the effect of the reduplication of the categoreal paradigm at the second level of the taxonomy, as well as the difference in speaking of Transcendence more or less synonymously with the the word 'God', and of the Transcendent more or less synonymously with the word "the Father".

The 'Transcendental' categories are then those four radicals which exemplify the Transcendent: the pure conceptual form space, which is actually transcendent; the form of unity space : time, which is virtually immanent; the category of actual immanence,  acoustic memory; and the category of virtual immanence, acoustic imagination. We shall first address the former two radicals.

The first of any healing miracle in the gospel of Mark speaks of the primordial category, space. This is certainly a judicious piece of editing, for the P creation narrative attests univocally to the archaeological, that is primordial, epistemic and psychic operational nature of space. It is indissolubly ontologically compounded with creation or 'beginning'. In the story of The Man With The Unclean Spirit the conclusion contains unmistakably three significant references to the concept of space:

And at once his fame spread everywhere (pantaxou~) throughout all the surrounding region of Galailee(ei)v o(/lh t\nn peri/xwron th~v Galilai/av). (Mark 1.28)

The opening sentence of the pericope, where once again, there is more than one reference to the concept, has already prepared the idea of place if not space:

And they went into Capernaum (Kafarnou/m); and immediately on the sabbath he entered the synagogue (sunagwgh\n) and taught. (Mark 1.21)

We noted the use of the verb suna/gw ('to gather together') in the Day 3 rubric where, describing the gathering together of the sea, it denotes the symbolic masculine. Here of course it alludes to the related category, that of transcendent space. Like all contiguous categories, these two may help to explain one another. But the healing story which deals with the symbolic masculine is of course The Gerasene Demoniac, in which the sea, as well as the 'country' (xw/ran) is mentioned, and plays the part of the place of destruction of the swine into which the  unclean demonic 'Legions' is allowed to enter (Mark 5.1, 13). There are many such points of contact between the two healing miracle stories. For all that however, it is as important as it is easy, to discriminate between them. Here we find the one specific healing story dealing with space; and Mark makes very plain its association with the equivalent perceptual form, acoustic imagination (vv 23-26). Luke fortunately has a version of the episode in his corpus of healing miracles. Moreover, he does not fail to mention either the initial pointer, nor the same final index of the conceptual form:

And he went down to Capernaum, a city of Galilee. And he was teaching them on the sabbath; and they awere astonished his teaching, for his word was with authority. And in the synagogue there was a man who had the spirit of an unclean demon; and he cried out with a loud voice, ... (Luke 4.31-33)

And reports of him went out into every place in the surrounding region (peri\ au)tou~ ei)v pa/nta to/pon th~v perixw/rou (Luke 4.37)).

There is no explicit term in either narrative to assist us in determining the somatic sign for this radical. It is by dint of understanding the related story so readily connoted here, the cure of The Boy With An Inclean Spirit, that we should make such a determination, and equally by considering the intelligibility of somatic signification itself. For it is a robustly straightforward affair, and the structural feature of oppositionality which the somatika-haptika maintain, also adds to the sureness of the resolution, since in this, as in every matter, they are consistent. That is, the binary or dyadic form reiterates itself in all semiotic series; acoustic, haptic and optic. The figure also comports very well with common sense as we shall see. We shall return therefore to this question after we have considered the related perceptual form depicted in Mark 9.14-29 and its parallel, Luke 9.37-43.

The Haemorrhagic Woman is that healing miracle which announces the conceptual form space : time as essentially ingredient to Christian epistemology and psychology. It is contained within all three synoptic gospels, and additionally, the Johannine sign The Healing At The Pool (John 5.1-18) also presents the same. John arranges it in the closest possible proximity to the messianic event which treats of acoustic memory, The Feeding Of The Five Thousand (John 6.1-14), since acoustic memory relates to the conceptual form space : time, as does acoustic imagination to the conceptual form space. Both are theologies of the Transcendent, and John makes this plain by the many references to 'the Father' in the intervening texts (John 5.19-47), the same whom he has already introduced in the actual healing miracle pericope itself (John 5.17,18). These passages also refer with characteristic Johannine insistence to 'the voice of the Son of God' (5.25, 28,) and the voice of 'the Father' (vv 37). Likewise, we see the father of the boy in the  cure involving acoustic imagination, playing a vital role.

We have seen that the story of The Haemorrhagic Woman, Mark's categoreal presentation of the conceptual form of unity space : time, is part of a triad events, each of which denotes a conceptual form of unity, and we have dealt already with two of these, Jairus' Daughter and The Syrophoenician Woman's Daughter, whose categoreal subjects are soma and the symbolic feminine respectively. All three episodes in this taxon involve women, and this typologically distinguishes their subjects as forms of unity, from pure conceptual forms. The latter routinely involve males: The Demoniac In The Synagogue, The Paralytic, and The Gerasene Demoniac; and their categoreal subjects are space, mind and the symbolic masculine respectively. The relevant text in the healing miracle readily describes bodily postures:

She had heard reports about Jesus, and came up behind him in the crowd and touched his garment( e)lqou~sa e)n tw~? o!xlw? o!pisqen h(/yato tou~ i(mati/ou au)tou~ (Mark 5.27)).

This is underlined by the physical response of Jesus described by Mark, and furthermore, confirmed by the final confrontationof the two:

And Jesus, perceiving in himself that power had gone forth from him, immediately turned about ( e)pistrafei\v) in the crowd, and said, "Who touched my garments?" (Mark 5.30)

But the woman, knowing what had been done to her, came in fear and trembling and fell down before him (prose/pesen), and told him the whole truth. (Mark 5.33, emphasis added.)

The mentions of both knowing and truth are here not inadvertent, and we find the same in the parallel Johannine texts. This narrative is indeed close to the heart of Mark's own gospel, a fact we shall later further investigate. Luke's recension does not specify that Jesus 'turned around', but it does follows suit:

And a woman who had had a flow of blood for twelve years and could not be healed by any one, came up behind him, and touched the fringe of his garment (proselqou~sa o!pisqen h(/yato tou~ krape/dou tou~ i(mati/ou au)tou~); and immediately her flow of blood ceased. (Luke 8.43, 44)

And when the woman saw that she was not hidden, she came trembling, and falling down before him (prospesou~sa au)tw~?) declared in the presence of all the people why she had touched him, and how she had been immediately healed. (Luke 8.47)

The haptic semeion for the conceptual category, space : time, is the dorsal body, which includes up to a point, its lateral zones. The references to 'behind' and 'turn about', and contrastively after the event, the subsequent posture of the woman prostrating herself before Jesus, leave no doubt as to this fact. The back signifies the conceptual form space : time. This necessarily excludes the legs, the hips and the head, for these in their turn, are constituent members of this strand of biblical semiotics, standing for disparate radicals of mind.



There are two stories in the gospel of Mark which report the cures of illnesses related to hearing and or speech: A Deaf And Dumb Man (Mark 7.31-37), and The Boy With An Inclean Spirit (Mark 9.14-29 par. Luke 9.37-42, Matthew 17.14-20, verse 21 is of contestable authenticity). The first is the rubric for acoustic memory, and second for acoustic imagination.

In dealing first with the second of these, we shall then be able to decide the issue of the related category, the conceptual form space. There are three versions of this healing miracle extant, and it performs the same task within the twelvefold corpus as does The Walking On The Water within the messianic series. Both pericopae offer invaluable data for determining the haptic sign. But the former is certainly the more explicit and graphic in this objective:

And one of the crowd answered him, "Teacher, I brought my son to you, for he has a dumb spirit (pneu~ma a!lalon); and wherever ( o(/pou e)a\n) it seizes him, it dashes him down; and he foams and grinds his teeth ( a)fri/zei kai\ tri/zei tou\v o)do/ntav), and becomes rigid; and I asked your disciples to cast it out, and they were not able." Mark 9.17, 18)

And behold, a man from the crowd cried ( e)bo/hsen), "Teacher, I beg you to look upon my son, for he is my only child (monogenh/v); and behold, a spirit seizes him, and he suddenly cries out (kra/zei); it convulses him till he foams (meta\ a)frou~), and shatters him, and will hardly leave him (mo/giv a)poxwrei~). " (Luke 9.38, 39)

When we hear or read these stories we picture the boy's distress as afflicting his entire body. But they doubtless emphasise the head and face. This after all, is where we hear in the first place, and the organs of speech indicate also  this part of the body. Both the recensions quoted contain ready allusions to the associated conceptual form, space, as it was portrayed in The Demoniac In The Synagogue. These have been noted by inclusion of the equivalent Greek expressions. For good measure, Mark redoubles the image initially described by the boy's father:

And they brought the boy to him; and when the spirit saw him, immediately it convulsed the boy, and he fell on the ground and rolled about, foaming at the mouth ( a)fri/zwn (Mark 9.20)

It is worth listing here that the relevant messianic miracle story supports the same identification of the sign:

And he saw that they were making headway (basanizome/nouv) painfully, for the wind was against ( en)anti/ov au)toi~v) them. (Mark 6.48a)

There is nothing immediately and explicitly anatomical about the verb basani/zw in its Greek form. Yet the entire description of the progress of the disciples and their vessel through the wind, clearly provides for the index we are listing, and the English translation of the verb demonstrates this implicitly. It is the face to face struggle between the bodies in the boat and the onslaught of the wind that immediately brings to mind the frontal body. Given this confrontation, in particular the head and face are here paramount. The disciples confront and bear against the forces of nature, crossing from one side of the sea to the other, by headbutting a path through the resistant storm. The upper, frontal zone of the body thus here contrasts with its upper, dorsal zone, according to the binary complementarity of space and space : time, fundamentally divisible into transcendent, future space and immanent, past space : time. And we shall find that both the face, and the upper frontal body with which it is contiguous, the breast, are involved in the semiosis of the haptic forms which signify The Transcendent. The transitive verb 'to breast', means 'to face and move forwards against or through (something)'. We need to place a finer point on the distinction necessarily maintained between the actually transcendent category, space, and that of virtual transcendence, acoustic imagination. Although clearly both are predisposed in virtue of the the affinity maintained by the future and the phallic soma. Women are consistently and remarkably absent from the three transcendent messianic events for this simple reason.

We may now answer the question concerning the haptic sign for the conceptual form, space, and it will conform to the logical disposition of several semeia related complementarily already in evidence. Phallos and uterus on the one hand,  and arms and legs, on the other, offered prime examples of antithetical juxtapositions, which confirm in their own way, the formal propositions of the creation story as a whole and also that of the messianic series. If the back is the signifier of the conceptual form space : time, and here we are speaking in the broadest of terms as that very word suggests, then quite simply the front of the body maintains the same relation of opposition to it, as the conceptual form space does to space : time. Here again it is necessary to note the exclusion of the semeia which otherwise function: the legs, hips, genitalia and gut. Hence generally we mean here the upper section of the body, properly speaking the thorax, or chest, enclosing the ribs and breastbone. But it is the outer aspect of this zone that counts for the signification. The sign itself must be party to the entire body of signs which reifies the fundamental compact between space itself as the future void of derivation from a past, and the perceptual imagination. In this respect, it reflects the masculine body, it is phallic rather than uterine. The thorax then consists with the back in the same pattern of antithesis that we have met formerly in the theology of the body.

The signification of the chest or thoracic body sorts properly with that of the head. Emphatically both are frontal, disposed in the outwardness of the body. As externalising, efferent, centrifugal, both members state the consistency of space qua conceptual form and the perceptual radical, acoustic imagination respectively.

Mark has placed the healing story which proposes acoustic memory as close as possible to the messianic event with the same intention, The Feeding Of The Five Thousand (Mark 6.30-44), given the constraints imposed by the demands of other closely related purposes. To further signify the connection of the two miracle stories, the somewhat later healing is contextualised immediately prior to The Feeding Of The Four Thousand (Mark 8.1-10), with its ensuing recapitulation of the details of both miracles of loaves (Mark 8.14-21). Matthew 15.29-31, a summary of healings which includes references to the 'dumb' (xwfou/v) and 'the dumb speaking' (kwfou\v lalou~ntav) (vv 30, 31), is hardly an effective parallel to the Markan pericope, although it is sometimes deemed to be, mostly because it is contextualised identically to the presumable original.

The somatic index for acoustic memory must relate to the dorsal body in the same way that the face and chest combine to express just those two categoreal forms which are intimately bound together. The text details specific anatomical members involved in the healing:

And taking aside from the multitude privately, he put his fingers into his ears (w!ta), and spat and touched his tongue (glw/sshv); (Mark 7.33)

There is nothing to counter the suggestion that the head is configured in this event; but we mean quite specifically, not its anterior zone, the frontal or facial zone of the head, which we find signified in the narrative just treated. We do mean the posterior region of the head, including what we usually think of as the neck. In order to refine the distinction between the haptika signifying the acoustic imagination and the acoustic memory, we can certainly make this differentiation. The term 'face' very well puts what we understand as the sign for the former, and it comports with the frontality of the thoracic region of the body as noted. The back of the head along with the cervical vertebrae stands as the haptic icon for this radical of consciousness. This region of the body sorts with the back in the same way, as just noted for the integration of the haptika for acoustic imagination and conceptual form space.

Thus there are in all twelve disjecta membra which constitute the signifying body. We mean by this, the process whereby 'the mind in the body' represents itself to itself, 'the body in the mind'. This representation is immediate. It is not mediated by either a visible or an audible sign. If consciousness arises indivisibly from bodily existence, a postulate accepted even by philosophical psychologies which as noted, are monistically physicalist, reductionistic, and certainly at odds with biblical metaphysics, then it stands to reason that consciousness is to a given extent 'embodied', and that the soma is lingual. The next step in advancing such a proposition must accept that bodies are radically dimorphic; they are the bodies of either men or women, discounting the random and  isolated exceptions to this rule. This will necessitate some consideration of the erotic nature of communication, and so entail the understanding of the Christological rapport between Eros and logos, as presented in the first and last messianic miracles.

Those somatic members which quite literally signify the rudimentary binary morphology of 'the body', uterus and phallos, are not exceptional in this account. They do not stand in isolation from the other signs in somatic-haptic linguistic consciousness. Nor do they dominate the meaning of such signs. In the case of the phallos for example, we have emphasised that its designation of transcendence must mean if anything, the absence of relatedness to the complement - the uterus. The symbolic masculine is a transcendent conceptual form. Therefore the view that the phallos is for any theoretical understanding of embodied mind, firstly significant of matters sexual, is a proposition which has been completely controverted. Nor is the uterus the semeion for the sexual. The hand and the gut function  self-reflexively to signify the basis of sexual appetition as it obtains in both orders, conscious and aconscious respectively, and in the modes of desire and faith-in-desire respectively. We should say, that such signs 'represent' such mental/psychological constellations, except that this expression gives rise to a raft of notions all of which concern mediation, and this is something reserved for words as manifestly heard and or seen.

Oddly enough, the Christological semiosis, that  of touch, is itself 'mediatory'. By this however, we mean that bodily members intervene between the possibility of identity (transcendence) and the immanent connectedness of things, their syntactical inter-dependence, their co-ordination. This reminds us always of the apparently paradoxical character of haptika: they both are, and are not, independently self-identical; just as they both are, and are not, seamlessly conjoint with others of their kind. It is not possible to venture more on this topic without a foray into the two semiotic series, the acoustika on the one hand, and the optika on the other, with both of which the haptic semiotic series itself is contiguous. Cerrtainly much more remains to be said concerning the role that the soma and semeihaptika perform in symbolism, linguistic representation, and an emerging psychology of the transition from ontogenetic to phylogenetic selfhood. This will enlist evolutionary theoretical concepts and the hierarchical gradations intrinsic to the chronology of the messianic series. That is, it will begin with the phenomenon of touch as foundational to logos, and generative through the optic forms of sentience to the acoustic, from the point of view of an evolutionary phenomenology. This pattern in part explains the chiastic organisation of the three feeding miracles. But to begin with, we have identified the basic postulates regarding the theology of haptic semiotic forms as these are disclosed in the healing miracles in the gospel of Mark, and have done so here precisely because they belong properly to the soteriology and eschatology of the gospel of Luke. But this topic demands some further consideration of the Pneumatological binary male and female. This pertains self-evidently to any discussion of somatic-haptic consciousness. We see then in the P creation taxonomy sexual dimorphism referred to firstly metaphorically in the Day 4 rubric, which speaks of the two planets, sun and moon, as well as the stars. It is finally, emphatically, and explicitly announced in the Day 6 rubric in relation to the creation of humankind in the image and likeness of the creator.


The first and Christological messianic miracle readily refers to the phenomenon of sexual dimorphism, under the tokens of water and wine, which we may read as a link to the last messianic event, the Eucharist. This reference is not the rubrical listing of these components of consciousness, the symbolic masculine and symbolic feminine, which are the last members of the creation taxonomy, categorised under the Day 6 rubric. The same elements, water and wine, are recounted in the Johannine account of the crucifixion, where they appear to function similarly, even if the gospel of John has no formal record of the last supper. Comparably, the Markan passion account for its part implicitly reverts to the imagery of the Day 4 story in that it describes the occultation of the sun by the moon, and also uses the hexad as a  Christological index allusively to the story of Transfiguration, the last and Christological messianic miracle. Thus both Mark's and John's passion stories accord with one another as to the complex relation of Eros and Thanatos, and by extension, the role of the same in the Eucharist:
... but when they came to Jesus and saw that he was already dead, they did not break his legs. But one of the soldiers pierced his side with a spear, and at once there came out blood and water. (John 19.33-34)

And when the sixth hour had come there was darkness over the whole land until the ninth hour. And at the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice, "Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?" which means, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" ... And Jesus uttered a loud cry, and breathed his last. (Mark 15.33-37)

Even though here, focused as we are on the gospel of Luke such that we are obliged to address Eros rather than Thanatos, it is impossible to sever their relation. We encountered this in the second creation story to which the idea of the cross qua tree of knowledge of good and evil/tree of life looks back; or rather, the cross is that to which the J theology of immanence looks forward. What we add here a propos of the essential compact between erotic love and death is the equally sure and equally enigmatic bond between the conscious and aconscious orders. This compact was never well regarded let alone understood by Freudian psychoanalytic doctrine, because it lacked a functioning metapsychology.
Freud's (1915) conception of the unconscious is characterized by the primacy of the instinctual drives, which seek peremptorily to irrupt into consciousness. Whereas Freud (1920) discovered the death instinct, he seems to have emphasized the functioning of libido. Klein (1935) on the other hand gave primacy of original function to the death instinct. (James S. Grotstein, "The Stranger Within Thee": Who Is the Unconscious?)
Microsoft Word - 1999-Grotstei Jacques Lacan attempted to reinvigorate the same tradition, and is sometimes credited like Klein, with amending the deficiency of an adequate psychology of death in Freud. But the same paucity remains nevertheless. In attributing to Freud the 'discovery of the unconscious', a questionable move in itself, Lacan makes this claim:
Let us look at the facts. The reality of the unconscious is sexual reality - an untenable (sic) truth. At every opportunity Freud defended his formula, if I may say so with tooth and nail. Why is it an untenable reality? ...
We know that sexual division, in so far as it reigns over most living beings, is that which ensures the survival of the species. ... The species survives in the form of its individuals. Nevertheless, the survival of the horse as a species has a meaning - each horse is transitory and dies. So you see, the link between sex an death, sex and the death of the individual, is fundamental. (Jacques Lacan, The Four Fundamental Concepts of Psycho-Analysis, translated by Alan Sheridan, Penguin Books, London, 1994, p 150).
Quite apart from the question of its sheer prima facie intelligibility, this makes no reference to the fact of consumption, the link between which and reproduction was plainly put in the first creation narrative. It is this fact of 'survival', as living upon the living, whether plant or animal, to which any effort to shed light upon the nexus between Eros and Thanatos must attend:
God blessed them and said to them, "Be fruitful and multiply! Fill the earth and subdue it! Rule over the fish of the sea and the birds of the air and every creature that moves on the ground." Then God said, "I now give you every seed-bearing plant on the face of the entire earth and every tree that has fruit with seed in it. They will be yours for food And to all the animals of the earth, and to every bird of the air, and to all the creatures that move on the ground - everything that has the breath of life in it - I give every green plant for food." It was so. (Genesis 1.28-30 NET Bible)
Analogous to this same relation or Eros and Thanatos is the epistemic rapport between mythos and logos, concerning which we shall say more. In terms of the gospel of Luke, we find this identity clearly in evidence. The epistemic lens through which Luke sees the world is the mythopoietic, that of art. That Lacan, who adopted a linguistic turn in psycho-analysis, seems to have gleaned little if anything of the overarching liaison between Eros and mythos, let alone that between Thanatos and logos, after the fashion of his mentor, merely adds to the incredibility of his case. Certainly he made no significant advance upon the given deficiencies of Freudian dogma in the matter of death and the 'unconscious'. Freudian psycho-analytical doctrines of the 'unconscious' are vitiated precisely because they are constitutionally unfitted for any thorough treatment of death, the very phenomenon which sits at the heart of religious sensibility. Consideration of the role of our awareness of death in consciousness comes principally as an afterthought in Freud. Writing on Freud's claims concerning the representation of death and his claims about the fear of death Liran Razinsky says:
The cornerstone of Freud's objection to the validity of the fear of death is his position regarding death's irrepresentability or unavailability to the mind. The more important statements concerning death's absence from the mind occur in three passages, one in "Thoughts for the Times on War and Death" (1915, pp. 289, 296-7), one in The Ego and the Id (1923, pp. 57-59), and one in Inhibitions, Symptoms and Anxiety (1926, pp. 129-30, 140). These passages being relatively incidental (in two of the texts) we can skip formalities and begin in media res, with the claims themselves. (p 15)

Freud uses six arguments to ground his claim. Four of them refer to the impossibility of death being part of the unconscious. "Death is [1] an abstract concept with [2] negative content," Freud (1923, p. 58) notes, and [3] it involves reference to time, while the unconscious, it is argued, cannot contain abstract or negative ideas, and time has no sway in it. A fourth argument, perhaps a summation of the previous three concerning time, negation, and abstractness, is that the fear of death has no correlative in instinctual or unconscious life. Taken together it means that, Freud concludes: "in the unconscious every one of us is convinced of his own immortality" (1915, p. 291). The fifth argument is empirical-developmental: we have never experienced anything like death, and, therefore, cannot grasp it. The sixth argument is philosophical: we cannot represent our own death because in trying to do so, we are always still left as spectators. (P 16)

He concludes:
At bottom, Freud's claims against the presence of death in the mind are simply unconvincing. Sometimes they are unsound, sometimes they seem ad hoc, sometimes they do not appear to reflect concerns that should have occupied Freud, and occasionally a plausible answer seems to have been at Freud's finger tips, had he only wanted it. The arguments discussed above seem to be part of an attempt to justify a broader theoretical stance - that the fear of death is not a dominant psychic factor - a stance that precedes the arguments rather than emanates from them. (Liran Razinsky, Freud, Psychoanalysis and Death, Cambridge University Press, U.S.A., 2013, p 24.)
Freudian metapsychology thus not only abdicates any serious committment to belief in the function of death in the aconscious, but equally misleadingly forswears the role of time. This is untelligible from the perspective of evolutionary psychology alone. What Mary Midgley credibly refers to as the 'roots of human nature' is consonant with the emergent psychology of the conceptual aconscious as we find it first in the second part of the P creation narrative - and notably in the three members of the Tanakh: Daniel, Job, and Jonah - and next, in the three Markan healing miracle narratives which reiterate these categories, the first member of which is space : time, predicated in The Haemorrhagic Woman.  Animals from a very wide variety of classes, not only aerial and aquatic animals of the Day 5 rubric, know with amazing clarity and accuracy, details concerning place and time, especially as these influence their reproductive and feeding habits. A vital part of the subtext of the book of Daniel, with its theriomorphic imagery pertains to the conceptual aconscious as it is informed by the same category, space : time, the pre-eminent categoreal entity with which the book is obviously preoccupied. We find animal imagery just as prominent in the book of Job, but here it is nuanced in terms of a theology which underlines the creative advance of the natural order. I have already referred to the manner in which these three members of the Tanakh, correlatively to the forms of unity space : time, male : female, and mind : body, address the conceptual aconscious. The creation of the animals in the second section of the story of beginning therefore initiates a  doctrine of the conceptual aconscious indispensable to its own Christological project, and which does not remain in a vacuum. Biblical and Christian psychology maintains an unflinching and candid deference to Thanatos given its consistency with these same three categories. Such a concern begins not as we might imagine in the second story, with the apparent incursion of death into the drama of creation, but in the first. There the creative acts of God culminate in Sabbath 'rest'. We shall later find the tendency in Hebrews to recur to this event, specifically in connection with angelology, another aspect of the biblical portrait of the aconscious. This serves once more, with the overall purposes of the logosode in the gospel of John, and the messianic series as a whole, to clearly relate 'beginning' to 'end', creation to salvation.

Consonant with the Lukan mythopoietic outlook, his idiomatic tendency to write as an artist, is the book of Jonah. Not surprisingly perhaps its depiction of soma as a conceptual form employs the haptikon, the gut. In this way it tells for the propensity to death of all living organisms - 'eat or be eaten'. Thus mortality remains the final legacy of bodiliness. Jonah's being swallowed whole by the whale, and the theme of fasting humans and animals attest to the same. The book of Jonah thus theologises the body in keeping with Luke's own stance towards the pivotal significance of appetition in human life and human as well as animal consciousness. The prayer of the prophet from the belly of the beast is the climax of its deliberations on Thanatos. For Christian readers it stands alone as one of the most subimely prophetic works of the Tanakh, the reason for the manifold references in the gospels to the 'sign of Jonah'. We cite here from the text the very heart and soul of the episode which refers to Jonah's deliverance:
The Lord sent a huge fish to swallow Jonah, and Jonah was in the stomach of the fish three days and three nights.
Jonah prayed to the Lord his God from the stomach of the fish and said,
"I called out to the Lord from my distress, and he answered me;
from the belly of Sheol I cried out for help,
and you heard my prayer.
You threw me into the deep waters,
into the middle of the sea;
the ocean current engulfed me;
all the mighty waves you sent swept over me.
I thought I had been banished from your sight,
that I would never again see your holy temple!
Water engulfed me up to my neck;
the deep ocean surrounded me;
seaweed was wrapped around my head.
I went down to the very bottoms of the mountains;
the gates of the netherworld barred me in for ever;
but you brought me up from the Pit, O Lord, my God.
When my life was ebbing away, I called out to the Lord,
and my prayer came to your holy temple.
Those who worship worthless idols forfeit the mercy that could be theirs.
But as for me, I promise to offer a sacrifice to you with a public declaration of praise;
I will surely do what I have promised.
Salvation belongs to the Lord!"
Then the Lord commanded the fish and it disgorged Jonah on dry land. 

(Jonah 1.17-2.10, NET Bible)

The book's subterranean and submarine imagery in tandem with the somatic metaphor of the whale's gut, graphically articulates an aspect of the 'aconscious' order of mind, consistently with the imagery of animal life in the second half of the creation story. The thematic construct of consumption and hence death, is at the same time common to both texts. This earth section of the creation story details the three forms of unity as components of the aconscious order, substructures which in turn each give rise to the aconscious modes of intentionality. Similar imagery occurs in several of the Markan pericopae dealing with the same, notably the Syrophoenician Woman and the Gerasene Demoniac, representative of the symbolic feminine and symbolic masculine respectively, and which must be taken relatively to one another. Thus the eponym contained in  the 'sign of Jonah' formula, evokes the paradigm 'three days and three nights'. In various mandalas we have seen how it equates to those two quadrants of the year during which the diurnal/nocturnal cycle is marked by increasing darkness, culminating in the winter solstice.

Such figures offered by the spatiotemporal template remain the fundmental paradigm for the aconscious, and vastly surpass anything we find in current secular metapsychological narratives. I have already criticised Freudian psychoanalytic and related traditions for their failure to realise the intrinsic epistemic relevance of space : time to psychology. The annual quarter from the summer solstice to the autumn equinox functions as the analogue to the three forms of imagination, and that from the autumn equinox to the winter solstice is analogous to the three forms of unity. We have accordingly correlated Luke alone of the four gospels with the uniquely canonical moment of the mandala, the winter solstice. In just the same manner the dual triads alluded to in the 'sign of Jonah' sayings recapitulate the three conceptual forms listed in the second or 'earth' half of the creation narrative, just as the three nights recur to the three forms of imagination, acoustic, optic and haptic, the subjects of the messianic miracles of virtual transcendence. These six categories are the substance of the aconscious.
It should be apparent from the fundamental bisection of the annual solar cycle into equal lengths of waxing and waning hours of daylight, and the value of this figure as a paradigm for Christian metapsychology, that a reasoned case must be made concerning the analysis of consciousness according to these two orders, conscious and aconscious. The comparable dynamic in the cyclical phases of the moon also pertains to this important strand of natural theology.

We find then as
one of the most overarching tenets in the texts before us, that death and the aconscious are necessarily mutually explicative of one another. To interpret their reciprocity is to divine matters touching upon each. There is, just as many psychologies will insist, an essential rapport between the erotic and the 'unconscious' or 'subconscious' so-called. Luke's theological predisposition engages foremost the intentionality of desire, occasioned by haptic memory. Although desire is effectively conscious, it is underpinned by the conceptual form soma, which is directly responsible for the aconscious intentional mode of faith, faith-in-desire. Christian philosophical psychology, or biblical metapsychology, insists equally on the rapport between the aconscious and death. It is outlined in the Christology presented in the Day 4 rubric, the stories of The Transfiguration and The Raising Of Lazarus. We have noted the metaphor of sleep for death in several miracle stories which portray those specific categories of the aconscious order: Luke's account of The Transfiguration - haptic imagination; and Mark's story of Jairus' Daughter - the conceptual form soma. In addition we noted The Boy With An Inclean Spirit, who is said to be 'as a dead person - acoustic imagination; and John's story of The Raising Of Lazarus including the exchange between Jesus and Thomas about the death of Lazarus (John 11.11-16). All of these have to do with a theology of the aconscious. We find the same also in Mark's portrait of the Gerasene man which reiterates the symbolic masculine, which even though it is by definition a conscious conceptual category, is co-opted by the symbolic feminine, its aconscious counterpart. The Gerasene Demoniac does not utilise the metaphor of death as sleep, but it clearly corresponds to The Syrophoenician Woman both in terms of Mark's editing, and narrative content. We have already commented on their shared themes: unclean spirits, animals in the process of eating, and negotiation between Jesus and the protagonist. The man is described as 'out of the tombs' and 'who lived among the tombs'. These narratives thus supplement the imagery of sleep qua death relative to the aconscious, with the image of animal life. They open and offer ample scope to an evolutionary metapsychology. That is, they suggest the same sort of rapport between the triangulation love-death-consumption, present in Luke's particular account of the Eucharist.

In spite of the profusion of animal imagery in the second half of the creation taxonomy delineating the conceptual aconscious, the narratives of Days 4-7, the figure to which we return here in pursuit of Luke's theology of the aconscious as marked by the conceptual form soma, is expressed in the Day 4 rubric: that of sun, moon and stars. This will best fit the introduction of the theology of the gendered body as this bears upon a Christian theological and semiological understanding of the aconscious. The topic is important not simply because the ontic reality of bodily existence provides us with a genuine binary which remains as resistant to ideologies of deconstruction as is the equally real binary of male and female. For the anthropic category, synonymously with sexual dimorphism, is one of a number of instances of that form of antithesis which we have already identified in the P creation story as Christological, rather than Transcendental or Pneumatological. The latter are the disjunctive and conjunctive forms of antithesis respectively. But these are expressly related to one another by a third mode of antithesis, the one uniformly expressed by the copula in the various permutations of the Christological titles: beginning and end, first and last, alpha and omega, as well as in the opening inclusio of the creation narrative, 'the heavens and the earth'. This very mode of antithesis, the Christological, is somehow both disjunctive, or transcendental, and conjunctive, or immanentist. Only such a reading does justice to the conspicuously dialectical value of the ambivalent 'and'. What are we to make of the Day 4 rubric, and with it, the stories of Day 5 and Day 6, and their effective subjects, the conceptual forms of unity space-time and male-female?

We should firstly notice the multivalent capacity of the sign itself. It ensures the connectivity of the other two categories belonging to this taxon, the class of conceptual forms of unity, which decidedly controvert the pure conceptual forms in as much as they controvert the theology of identity, the theology of transcendence proper. Sun moon and stars are the means of measuring time, so that the spatiotemporal category formally announced in the Day 5 rubric is immediately evoked. No less so the sun-moon dichotomy portends the immanent event par excellence male and female, the final member of this taxon. Thus this image of the soma, sun-moon-and stars, operates cumulatively, and in this way reflets the same pattern of succession of the taxon. The soma achieves the inherent temporal tendency of its class. It is the last of its kind in terms of the temporal sequence from the autumn equinox until the winter solstice. Soma configures the telos of its class, the end towards which it tends asymmetrically. It realises the innate developmental potential or 'entelechy' of this class of radicals, forms of unity. The annual temporal interval 'from darkness to darkness' is the unique shift during that quarter of the year culminating in the winter solstice.

The Day 4 rubric is the best of any analogical metaphor representative of both the conceptual form soma and its concomitant intentional mode, belief in desire. It also holds good of the episteme, art, occasioned by soma in the intentional mode of belief simpliciter itself. In this light both Jonah and Luke should be regarded; both are mythopoietic, both construe theology by means of art. The Day 4 rubric provides a still more fruitful way of envisaging the conceptual form soma for a Christian psychology of the aconscious. The stellar figure adds to the Pneumatological and anthropic category, male and female, in that stars are frequently  used metaphorically in biblical literature to betoken offspring, or siblings in the case of the dream of Joseph in which the sun and moon represent his parents, and the eleven stars his brothers (Genesis 37.9-11). This may not be the case in the initial description of the seven stars in The Apocalypse (1.10-3.22), but it is nevertheless very probably true of the vision in chapter 12:
And a great portent appeared in heaven, a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet, and on her head a crown of twelve stars; she was with child and she cried out in her pangs of birth, in anguish for delivery. (Apocalypse 12.1-2)

The figures of the Day 4 rubric as tropes for the soma designate three gendered bodies, or rather, two gendered bodies and a single non-gendered body; male, female and male-and-female, that is, neuter. We found a similar constellation  in the story of Jairus' Daughter, a pericope about a little girl on the threshold of sexual maturity, and who suffers passage from the non-gendered body of the child to that of a female adult, a healing event in which her parents are closely involved from the start to the finish. Do we then take the soma pictured in the creation taxonomy as inclusive of all three modes of embodiment, masculine, feminine and neuter? Doing so will lend itself to what I will tentatively call a 'Christian tantra', and more specifically, a 'Christian-Buddhist tantra'. The latter term infers what is native to both  conscious haptic memory, and the aconscious conceptual form, soma, Christ as Eros. Hence it will engage with the core subject of the immanent Christological miracle, Transformation Of Water Into Wine. Simultaneously it will add to also  the transfigurative exchange between time and mind in the complementary episode, Transfiguration.

As grounded in the intentionality of conscious desire and that of aconscious belief-in-desire, the gospel of Luke is strategically poised to answer Buddhist-tantric soteriological and eschatological claims, for these likewise see desire as central to human consciousness, if not in fact the chief characteristic of human and sub-human mentation. I will associate the gospel of Luke with Buddhisms generally from the point of view of a Christian theology of religions, given their equally emphatic awareness of the phenomenon of desire, and I shall make similar claims for all other gospels except that of John. In the same vein I shall argue that particular Christian confessional stances answer to the idiomatic perspectives of each of the four gospels. Thus I shall contend that the Lutheran confessional stance most nearly assumes the specific theological perspective of the gospel of Luke. Such descriptions will not only embellish but properly elaborate what concerns us in addressing each of the four gospels. They will also adduce to an encompassing whole, visible in the canonical determinants of the fourfold mandalic structures as expressive of the four cardinal points of the solar cycle, and finally to the theology of world religions which I am maintaining is present in The Apocalypse. Thus understanding the gospel of Luke in terms of basic conscious and aconscious processes recognisable as desiderative or appetitive, (rather than say 'volitional'), will ultimately lay hold of ecclesiological discourse as well as that of the theology of world religions.

Here the choice of the Pneumatological conceptual forms symbolic male and female to resume the doctrine of polarity-analogy encountered in the P creation narrative reflects the broader pattern concerning the relations obtaining in each of the six cases: the three conceptual and three perceptual contrasts of each identity, the Transcendent, the Holy Spirit, and the Son. Such structural features of as we mention here, therefore do not appertain to the Pneumatological alone. The contrastive structures which focus the binary patters of the texts concern all twelve elements in their three or four rudimentary modes of antithesis which we first detected in the P creation narrative. Although there are evidently four actual possibilities of contrast available here, since each triad contains two perceptual and two conceptual radicals, these are finally three in number. This is because the Christological modes of antithesis replicate both transcendence and immanence, and so are to be counted as one. Thus also, we see the formal implementation of the same triune structure to the contrastive relations which we are adducing in terms of a theology of desire or Christian-Buddhist 'tantra'. So for example, taking the four Pneumatological categories, both forms of perceptual consciousness, optic memory and optic imagination and both conceptual components, symbolic feminine and symbolic masculine, the three-four contrastive relations obtaining between these categories are identifiable in terms of Trinitarian theology. The actual relation between symbolic feminine and symbolic masculine is as that between optic memory and optic imagination. This relation captures the paradoxical copula of the various titles to which we have already referred; it is identifiably Christological. The order given here follows the introduction of these contrastive binaries mentioned above. The four relations are as follows:

I shall not use the term 'dyad' in this specific context as it may give rise to confusion, and will instead reserve this term for the paired conceptual-perceptual forms which maintain the analogy between the theologies of beginning and end. In the case of Luke the 'dyad' is constituted by the analogues haptic memory and the conceptual form soma. Dyads are always represented by the same semeioptika or same colour: violet stands for both Lukan categories, haptic memory and soma as conceptual form. Likewise, both members of all dyads are articulated by immediately contiguous semeiacoustika, in the case of Luke these are A# and A respectively. On the other hand, the relations of contrast formulated in the creation taxonomy and in the chiastic form of the messianic events, in which they are usually indicated by the expression 'to the other side', are signified by contrastive or antithetical semeioptika and expressed by equally contrastive or antithetical semeiacoustika. Hence the initial terms in the above four relations are each designated by the semeion blue, and the final terms by the oppositional semeion orange. The semeiacoustika for the same four contrasts are as follows respectively: G-Db; G#-D; G#-Db; G-D. These intervals gravitate about the single interval, known variously as an augmented fourth or diminished fifth, or tritone. This interval divides the octave at precisely its mid-point. This means that its inversion is identical to the intervallic value of the original. In other words, there is no original indicative of direction either in terms of either opposing direction, the circle of fourths or the circle of fifths. Hence each of the four antithetical relations here are more or less as contrastive as the serial order of the categories will allow. A perfect fourth, one semitone below the tritone, sits just shy of the focus or nucleus of the spectrum or complete dodecaphonic compass, as does a perfect fifth, one semitone above the tritone. This has profound significance for understanding the acoustic semiosis and the spatiotemporal order, its conceptual counterpart or dyad. I repeat the four systemic relations which concern us with their semiotic designations below:
These relations and others of the same ilk are vital to an assessment of the logical integrity of the philosophical and psychological claims made here. They guarantee the validity of Christian epistemology. If the occurrence of these antitheses as first given in the P creation narrative is any guide, we may legitimately construe them in terms of dimensional polarity. That narrative we contended, is a theology of transcendence, the pre-eminently non-dialectical example of which is space, or 'heavens'. Its creation occurs in the first half, the beginning section of this story of beginning so as to emphasise the narratological purpose as specifically transcendental rather than immanentist. The Christological category of mind is to the same extent transcendental as is space, but it is equally immanentist in nature, a fact implicitly confirmed by the status of the soma and explicitly confirmed in the messianic series by the status of haptic memory. Both of which categories are canonical instantiations of the good as are all Christological categories. It would seem both right and indispensible in view of this, as well as the formula 'to the other side', to reckon these various epistemic antitheses according to elemental geometrical iconography. For just which reason we employed simple geometry in the earlier exposition of the narrative. These concluded with the three-dimensional matrix as an iconographical means of construing the inherent logic of the story itself. Hence I am employing two constructs here in order to advance the theology of semiotic forms as they are relevant to the gospel of Luke, and accordingly the somatic-haptic semiosis, which I am urging functions at the very hub of language, identifying the incarnate logos, and the Christ of both Christological messianic miracles as well as of the Eucharist. These constructs are the geometrical iconography introduced in the discussion of the P creation narrative and the anthropic category male : female, since this adverts to what I am calling a 'Christian-Buddhist tantra'.

It is necessary to add a rider here concerning the simplicity of the above four antithetical relations, and the ensuing extrapolation from the Genesis narrative. In each case we have placed the immanent term or the relatum first, following the general determination of the Pneumatological categories as radically immanent. I shall comment further concerning the distinction between the initial and final relata in the discussion of the acoustic semiosis. We note that there may be as many as eight rather than four distinct possible relations in the above four contrasts, since some or all of them may not be symmetrical. In the first case for example, there is the relation between symbolic feminine and symbolic masculine, but this also presupposes in some measure the obverse relation of the symbolic masculine to the symbolic feminine. We observed in accordance with the narrative logic of the creation taxonomy these may not be the same. Inverting the orders of the initial and final relata yields a total of eight possible relations. At a further point in this study which will engage the theology of semeiacoustika we shall clarify such matters. The present discussion must suffice to introduce the basic ideas relevant to the gospel of Luke and to what we have termed a 'Christian-Buddhist tantra'. Our immediate goal here is to comprehend the Christ-Eros of Lukan theology relative to the essential transactive processes delivered in the two Christological messianic events.

The categoreal analogy of transcendence situates the peripheral contrasts male : female  and space : time (that is, space : time)  viv-a-vis one another with the Christological event mind : body as the co-ordinating fulcrum. This was introduced in The Messianic Miracles And Their Precedent thus:

Transcendence         :                Immanence

Space : time :: mind : body :: male : female

The words italicised denote the categoreal analogy of transcendence, and the words underlined, the categoreal analogy of immanence, convergent or coincident at the Christological category. We should not neglect the rider concerning the immanent in the creation taxonomy. The class or taxon, forms of unity, are not immanent according to the categories of actual immanence, which are definitive for this polarity. They are the forms of memory, the topics of the three messianic feeding miracles. These represent immanence, the 'earth' of the original formula 'heavens and the earth', normatively. They define immanence in the same way that the pure conceptual forms, rather than the forms of imagination, define transcendence. Pure conceptual forms are categories of actual transcendence, and for this reason, we speak of the forms of imagination, which are similar to them, as categories of virtual transcendence. Because of the recapitulation of the categoreal paradigm within both the creation taxonomy and the messianic series we are bound to make this distinction. We shall return to the category of optic memory, and also that of haptic memory, which are fully and actually immanent, directly.

The categoreal analogy of immanence, the analogous relation between Christological mind : body and Pneumatological male : female, is implicit in the Genesis story of beginning by reason of its self declared inclination, that of transcendence. (It is necessary to repeat here, as always, that the symbolic masculine is in important respects identical to the Son of man; and that the symbolic feminine is constituted by both relata, male and female.) These categories we have described as categories of virtual immanence. Their presence within the creation taxonomy depicts them in the first instance as conceptual, that is, as taxonomically transcendental. But they are forms of unity and as such controvert the principle of identity, which precisely makes them function more like the forms of memory, the categories of actual immanence. It is ultimately to these actually immanent radicals that they must defer. The categoreal analogy of actual immanence defers to the disclosure of the messianic series. Its final significance must refer to the perceptual pole of consciousness, because the perceptual polarity of consciousness reveals the final meaning of the immanent vis-a-vis the transcendent. 'Revealed' is here the operative word, since for one thing, the optimum expression of the perceptual pole of consciousness is the optic. Optic memory in particular and optic imagination as well, establish to the fullest, the expression of immanence. They are the ultimate means for the revelation of beauty, the specific value identifiable as immanent in general, and as the Holy Spirit in particular. In regard to language then, this places The Apocalypse in a peculiar position. Its brief is nothing less than the Pneumatological and eschatological, complementarily and in certain respects antithetically, to the concerns of the P creation narrative. It is very certainly and 'end' to that narrative's 'beginning', and its literary function is to close the canon. This suggests a certain level of not just self-awareness, but a real mastery of the breadth of both canons, a suggestion corroborated by the raft of its direct references and allusions to both the Tanakh and the New Testament. Its focus on optic sentience thus validates its own tendency to lay claim to a certain status qua text. For optic memory, visual memory, in effect guarantees that the graphic or written word as opposed to the spoken word, enjoys a quality which is broadly speaking final or teleological. The Apocalypse provides a limit, and there is no surpassing it. We glimpse something of this kind in the ominously menacing claim The Apocalypse ultimately makes on its own behalf:
I warn everyone who hears the words of the prophecy of this book; if any one adds to them, God will add to him the plagues described in this book, and if anyone takes away from the words of the book of this prophecy, God will take away his share in the tree of life and in the holy city, which are described in this book. (Apocalypse 22.18-19)
John's dire threat is a far cry from the similar but reflectively tranquil reference to the essential liaison between writing and special revelation at the conclusion of the gospel of John:
But there are also many other things which Jesus did; were every one of them to be written, I suppose that the world itself could not contain the books that would be written. (John 21.25)
Optic sentience epitomises immanence. That said, haptic sentience is of equivalent immanent status, although its axiological properties are altogether other than those concerning the beautiful. Haptic memory and haptic imagination are the quintessence of the value goodness. Haptic sentience establishes the normative processes in perceptual consciousness which intrinsically evince this as no other value. We found this in both Christological messianic miracles (John 2.10, and Mark 9.5 kalo/n), and again everywhere in the Christological purpose of the P creation narrative. Its refrain 'And God saw the ... that it was good' (Genesis 1.4, 10, 12, 18, 21, 25, 31,  LXX: kai ei)den o( qeov ... o(ti kalon-kala), encapsulates the form of the story almost in its entirety; this formula is not ascribed to Day 2. Just as every one of the six episodes is framed as a day-night, which can only be the result of the central function of the light of Day 1 for the first section and the sun, moon and stars of Day 4 for the second. These rubrics denote respectively those specific entities, mind and soma, which are the pre-eminent exemplars of what we mean by the word 'good'. Mind is is the intrinsic exemplification of goodness in conceptual consciousness, just as haptic memory is in perceptual consciousness. If we recognise the link between the optic and the haptic, as between the Christological and Pneumatological, in God's act of 'seeing' prior to the act of evaluation, then so too the very same is expressed in the description of the woman's view of the desirability of the fruit of the tree forbidden to the human couple in the J creation story. The compatibility of seeing and knowing, if not desiring and tasting, is in God's case pre-emptive. If we see will as the dominant psychological mode of the creative endeavour, then it is also linked, even in the case of God, with something akin to desire. This something is of course what I am calling faith-in-desire which has its foundation in somatic aconscious awareness. These motifs in both the P and J narratives of creations act as a prolepsis of the full disclosures of the theology of immanence to be found in the New Testament, in which the categoreal analogy of immanence correlates optic and haptic modes of sense-percipience. That is, it correlates optic imagination : optic memory, with haptic imagination : haptic memory. So too we find that the visible members of the body itself are palpable; what we see of the soma, we can also touch.

The apparent compatibility of the two Pneumatological categories with their corresponding Christological entities, the elision that is, of male : female with soma, and the elision of optic sentience with haptic sentience, brings to the fore the apparent elision of the symbolic masculine or Son of man figure with the Christ. (In The Apocalypse the same process is apparent in the integration of sevenfold and sixfold patterns respectively.) This is one of the aporia besetting New Testament theology. It is mentioned only in passing here, but we shall return to it in the broader context of the Christological title with which it is juxtaposed, 'Son of God'. These two titles effectively propose the relation of the Christ to both identities, the Holy Spirit and the Transcendent respectively.

All categoreal forms themselves can be understood against the paradigmatic division of temporality into future and past, consonantly with the categoreal paradigm, transcendence : immanence. In the latter we see their relation signified by the intervenient sign for logos.  This is the legacy of the primordial character of the spatiotemporal category itself. Thus the conceptual forms no less than the perceptual polarity of mind are party to the same. The pure conceptual forms space, the symbolic masculine and mind, each as transcendental, circumscribe the distal, medial and proximal futures as we noted. Their native modes of intentionality follows suit: these respectively are will, will-and-belief and belief (simpliciter). The conceptual forms of unity are no different. That is to say that space : time and its resultant mode of intentionality, will-to-believe, shape or regulate the remote or distal past; symbolic masculine : symbolic feminine and the hybrid intentional mode will-to-believe-and-belief-in-desire form the medial past, and soma, or mind : body and its concomitant  mode of intentionality, belief-in-desire condition or circumscribe the proximal past. The proximal past, like the proximal future, is liminal to presentational immediacy. That is, proximal temporality borders present immediacy. The body and its mind is/are actual, always located in both marginal proximal domains where the past and future are bound to the present. Any bifurcation into future and past entails an intervening present. Thus these normative and non-normative Christological categories both, are definitive for a/conscious awareness determining the hic et nunc.

The intentional modes which arise from each of the twelve categoreal forms in one sense render those forms themselves independent of their corresponding spatiotemporal domains. Thus haptic memory is the domain of the (perceptual) distal past, precisely as its intentional modal form, desire, determines that realm. But haptic memory is not confined to this intentional mode alone. It adopts every one of the six perceptual modes of intentionality. So for example it functions as knowing, as the desire-to-know and so on. As cognitive, that is, in terms of the intentionality of knowing, haptic memory must be as (canonical) knowing itself, occurrent within a proximal past bordering present immediacy. We need to remember this in the following exposition.

If the phallic body and the future are aligned, then the uterine body and the past are likewise. This is the first observation we make in the interests of Lukan theology of the soma. We can say that synonymously, the conceptual and perceptual poles as radically disparate, which is true of their conscious or normative natures, are necessarily congruent with the same bifurcation. The perceptual mind, perceptual consciousness, is wedded to the past, and the conceptual pole of mind to the future. These are tenets foundational to the theology of mind and time, that is to the theology of semiotic forms. My intention in pursuit of a systematic theology of soma is to use the metaphor given in the creation narrative in conjunction with the categoreal analogies. The solar-lunar imagery of the former thus complies at first sight with the radical disparity between a conceptual-future, signified by the phallic body and a perceptual-past signified by the uterine body. This leaves the sidereal or astral metaphor to designate the present. This present is that in which both disparate relata converge. The trope star(s) as signifying the present conforms to the presentation of the imagery in the Johannine prologue which speaks of 'all who received him' as 'children of God'. John thereby stresses the value of the neuter over and against that of the essential bifurcation of phallic-uterine, if not precisely male and female.
The true light that enlightens every man was coming into the world. He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world knew him not. He came to his own home, and his own people received him not. But to all who received him, who believed in his name (pisteu/ousin ei)v to\ o)/noma au)tou~), he gave power to become children of God (te/kna qeou~ gene/sqai); who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God. (John 1.9-13)
Surely the expression used by the evangelist - 'child' - is remarkable for its gender, which is of course neuter. John does not say as he might 'sons and daughters'. He opts instead for this particular word, which in its plural form especially seems to echo the imagery of the Day 4 rubric. He echoes the gender and number of the original metaphor  - children qua stars - in keeping with the tenor of his prologue as a whole. This tropical term we first find there, is important to that narrative. I mention this here to controvert any argument which equates the logos with the 'sophia' of the Tanakh; that is, the Son with the Holy Spirit. We have already remarked on the evident tendency of the texts to conflate Christological and Pneumatological categories. The 'sophia' figure is distinctly feminine, and as such, does not comport with the Johannine theology of the logos. The distinction between these identities was clearly outlined in the P creation story. It is necessary to a proper understanding of the hermeneutic of the Day 4 rubric which follows here, and in which neither trope, neither the sun nor moon, does justice for the psychophysical category, the mind : body. The soma cannot be either male nor female if we are to reckon with the reality of consciousness as likewise. This is why I have emphasised the haptic semiosis as phallic-uterine, simultaneously distinguishing it from the anthropic, Pneumatological categories.

The symbolic masculine was adumbrated in the Day 3 rubric and the male and female of humankind was clearly announced in the corresponding Day 6 rubric, where it signified what I am referring to as the symbolic feminine. These relata, male 'and' female of the anthropic category were thus superimposed on the  narrative's own sectioning according to the paradigmatic inclusio 'heavens and the earth'. The same applied to each of the three categories. In other words, the syntax of the narrative emphasised the relation of mind to soma or mind : body; that of space to space : time; and that of symbolic masculine to symbolic feminine. The outcome then focused the complete narrative as Christological. But, extraordinarily, nowhere did we find the articulation of this Christological relation of categories, except in the way indicated by
geometrical iconography native to the text. What the P creation narrative left unsaid was then central to its meaning. The consequence of the structural integrity of the text confronts us with the polarity of polarities, or antithesis of antitheses . This co-ordinates the disjunctive and conjunctive modes of antithesis exemplified in each of its two sections. The iconography of this particular mode of antithesis we formulated as the a-b axis in the following image. It portrays the axis of rotation of the plane subtended by the two axes, A-B and a-b, apparent in the three constituents of the 'heaven' and 'earth' sections of the text. The A-B and  a-b axes configure the disjunctive-transcendental and conjunctive-immanentist modes of antithesis respectively. Accordingly we refer to the ostensibly paradoxical nature of the Christological axis as 'adjunctive'. This imagery accords immediately with the planetary figures of the Day 4 rubric, in that the earth rotates on its axis:

We are now able to return to the contrastive or antithetical relations subtended by the three members, Christological, Pneumatological and Transcendental, of each of the four taxa. These contrasts occur both within the two series and between the two series. In the first case of the intrapolar antitheses, there are contrasts of conceptual forms to conceptual forms, as well as the contrasts sustained between perceptual forms. In the second, there are contrastive relations of conceptual to perceptual forms, and of perceptual to conceptual forms. The Pneumatological contrastive relations here occupy us only because we are addressing the gospel of Luke and its haptic semiosis, consequent to which is the theology of desire and of faith-in-desire. The Pneumatological antitheses may stand for the equivalent relations sustained by the Christological and Transcendental categories. These are the contrastive and non-analogous relations between the symbolic masculine and symbolic feminine, and the contrastive and non-analogous relations between optic memory and optic imagination, and in turn the contrastive and non-analogous relations between optic memory and symbolic masculine, and symbolic feminine and optic imagination. They may stand for the equivalent relations occurrent between Christological mind and soma and the two haptic categories as well as the equivalent relations occurrent between Transcendental space and space-time and the two acoustic categories. In each case the structures are the same.
A caveat is necessary here: a previously put, the mediatory and equivocal status of the soma as of haptic memory with regard to transcendence : immanence means that th the conceptual : perceptual dichotomy is the most significant aspect of the application of an erotic Lukan paradigm to Christian epistemology-psychology. Effectively then, the male : female dichotomy defers to Christology in any Christian 'tantra'.

These various contrasts reduce to the initial three modes of antithesis discovered in the P creation story, illustrated above, and they will be authoritatively accounted for in the acoustic semiosis by means of the three intervals, tritone, perfect fifth and perfect fourth. Here the ciphers five and four reiterate the same numerical symbols of the Transcendental and Pneumatological feeding miracle stories respectively: The Feeding of the Five Thousand, and The Feeding Of The Four Thousand. In addition to echoing the disjunctive and conjunctive forms of antithesis in terms of acoustic intervals, they also refer to the two cycles structured according to these same intervals. Thus the perfect fifth and cycle of fifths announces the constellation masculine-conceptual-future; whereas the perfect fourth expresses, like the cycle of fourths, the constellation feminine-past-perceptual.

Here I will use the Day 4 imagery in a threefold paradigm a propos of future-present-and-past, conformably to the somatic-haptic metaphor of sun-stars-moon found in Genesis 1.1-24a and chapter 12 of The Apocalypse, in accordance with the acoustic semiological expression of these antitheses: perfect fifth, tritone and perfect fourth respectively. Consequently the pivotal terms in each of these is salient. Finally, the epistemological extrapolation of this paradigm is equal to conceptual-and-perceptual. This relation between the distinctive poles of consciousness is every bit as vital as the relation of the texts themselves. The difficulty as before, remains in establishing any hard and fast distinction between the emblematic function of the messianic series and that of The Apocalypse qua texts. This is encapsulated in the repeated cipher 7 of the Pneumatological messianic miracle. At first glance either could do justice for the perceptual pole, as for the symbolic feminine, the past and so on. So it might just as well refer to the sevenfold messianic series, or to the plethora of sevenfold series in The Apocalypse. Once again the theological difficulty confronting us is the distinction between the 'Son of man' and the transcendent status of the 'Son'. Here however, I shall for the moment align the teleological and eschatological symbolic feminine with the perceptual polarity as with The Apocalypse. This leaves the issues surrounding the dialectical relation itself between the various peripherals, terms or relata themselves, to the messianic series, as to 'the Son' simpliciter, 'Son of God-man'. So too it denotes what we meet in its both Christological narratives, the process of transmutation in both directions from one to the other pole.

Utilising the conceptual Pneumatological categories, symbolic masculine and symbolic feminine, is at once apposite to the pursuit of a 'Christian-Buddhist-tantric' approach to the gospel of Luke, but not of a Buddhist-tantra alone. These conceptual forms are key concepts in Hindu schools of tantra as in Taoist weltanschauungen. Some doubt has been cast on the very notion of a Taoist worldview if this is to mean a systematically ordered theory and practice involving organised and significant numbers practitioners. (See for example N. J. Giradot (1999), Finding the Way': James Legge and the Victorian Invention of Taoism, Religion, 29:2, 107-121.) The conclusion of which reads, albeit somewhat ironically, as follows:
Recently those sinologists who have found the path and known about the Way say different and sometimes contradictory things. For example, Nathan Sivin (1978), in keeping with Forest Gump and Winnie the Pooh, has suggested that in Chinese tradition 'Taoism is as Taoism does'. John Lagerway (1987), who has found the Way, says that Taoism is the 'religion of the people of the land (p. xv). And Kristofer Schipper (1993), one of the pioneering twentieth-century scholars of the living Taoist tradition, says only that 'the Body knows'. But even today what is known about Taoism - and to what degree the old dichotomy between a pure philosophical-mystical Taoism and a corrupt religious-ritualistic Taoism, the early classical texts and the later organised religion and Taoist canon, still has validity - remains moot. As Lao Tzu reputedly said in the little text of the Tao and its power, 'the Tao that can be Tao'ed is not the Tao'
I mention Taoism here because of the pronounced attention it gives the conceptual dichotomy yin-yang. In a less mordant even if also putatively less scrupulous review, The Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy article on Gender In Chinese Philosophy provides some insight into the inherent predisposition of Sinitic cultures to speculate concerning the anthropic category:
The idea that the interaction of yin and yang generates the myriad things in existence corresponds to intercourse between male and female as the only means for reproducing life. Therefore, the nature of men and women in Chinese philosophy is not only based on purely physiological characteristics and differences, but is also the embodiment of yin and yang forces in gender. The dao of men and women are linked to the dao of the universe in terms of reproducing life. This is systematically discussed in the Book of Changes, one of China’s most ancient and influential texts. There, eight trigrams are given, which represent eight natural phenomena and can further be combined to form sixty-four hexagrams. These are expressions of the function and movement of yin and yang. They are composed of two contrasting symbols: the yang-yao unbroken horizontal line, and the yin-yao broken horizontal line. Some scholars see these as referring to the male and female genitals respectively. In this sense, the first two hexagrams qian or “heaven” (which is six yang-yaos) and kun or “earth” (six yin-yaos) can be interpreted as representing pure yin and yang. They are also responsible for the formation of general gender stereotypes in Chinese thought. They provide the gateways for change, and are considered, quite literally, the father and mother of all other hexagrams (which equates to all things in the world). The broad system of the Book of Changes attempts to explain every type of change and existence, and is built upon an identification of yin and yang with the sexes as well as their interaction with one another.
The influence of Taoist constructs on Chinese Buddhism has been well observed. The article on Chinese Buddhism in the Overview of World Religions Project has this to say:
The Prajna, or Wisdom, School, again not a single institution, constituted the other major trend in Han Buddhism.  This movement focused on the Prajnaparamita Sutras, or Perfection of Wisdom Scriptures, of Mahayana Buddhism.  These were predominantly philosophical works primarily concerned with expounding the doctrine that the ultimate nature of reality is "empty" (Skt. sunyata; Ch. kung) of any independent existence.  These texts caught the attention of the Chinese, again partly because of similarities with their own inheritance, this time with the philosophies of the Taoists Lao-tzu and Chuang-tzu.

Before this scholarly activity the Chinese had had difficulty in understanding Buddhist texts and teachings, primarily because they had translated and interpreted them using Taoist terms and concepts.  The more accurate translations enabled more faithful interpretations, and by the end of the sixth century Chinese Buddhist scholars had grasped many of the main doctrines of the Indian Mahayana.  At the same time the new religion had consolidated its position in both north and south, the sporadic criticisms from Confucian and Taoist quarters notwithstanding. 

The general presence of sexual dimorphism as some sort of categoreal generality of conceptual awareness within metaphysical-religious thought is not restricted to China nor to Buddhism. It is systematically prevalent in the Vajrayana or Mantrayana Buddhism of Tibet. Certain schools of Hindu religious thought have shown similar tendencies. One exception to the abiding neglect on the part of the (Christian) theology of religions to countenance such phenomena is that of John R. Dupuche, a Roman Catholic priest who sees closes resemblances between Tibetan Vajrayana and Kashmir Shaivism, and for whom 'the Mass ... became a tantric ritual without ceasing to be a Christian sacrifice'. He  has written with genuine candour concerning his belief that the Christian faith and the tantra of Kashmir Shaivism are reconcilable. I quote at length from his reflections in Towards A Christian Tantra: The Interplay of Christianity and Kashmir Shaivism.
Kashmir Shaivism, and Indian thought in general, sees the human body (deha) as a microcosm of the world ... From the head right down to the feet, the whole body symbolizes the emanation of the world in thirty-six stages.

The body is not a confused mass but a structure where there are major centres (cakra). These cakras are networks of energy, 'lotuses' (padma) which are ready to open and display all their beauty. (p 38-39)

Just as there is a Buddhist tantra, a Jain tantra, a Vaishnava tantra, it is legitimate to imagine a Christian tantra. According to Indian tradition, such an aim is not only allowed, it is expected. The following pages propose that the essence of the tantra - their source and summoit is Love, understood in a new way. The gospel reveals the heart of the tantra; tantra reveals another meaning of the Gospel. The lights do not cast shadows on each other but illuminate. (p 72)

All pleasure - that is to say those which allow the opening of the superior centres and not those which prevent it -  are steps on this sacred path. The practitioners delight in a particular sexual pleasure as they please, yet without depending on it, they accept pleasure just as they receive grace upon grace. Pleasures are rungs of the ladder which join earth to heaven. Those who take part in pleasure cry out like Jacob, "Surely theLord is in this place -  and I did not know it!" (p 91)

The scenes in the Book of Revelation where the heavenly choirs eternally sing the glory of God and the Lamb, touch us deeply, but are insufficient. Where is love? If marriage is the sacrament of God, how can love-making be absent from heaven? We cannot accept that physical love should be for just a time; we want the embrace of love to be eternal. (p 92)

Kashmir Shaivism teaches that ultimate Reality is essentially a sexual relationship. That is the great value of tantra. Equally, Shaivism teaches that each pleasure - that which expands consciousness and does not restrict it- leads to the experiences of infinite Reality. In the light of this teaching, the Christian tantra seeks to reconcile pleasure and spirituality. It proposes that pleasureable union is found not only between the faculty and its object or at the level of the body and the mind but also between persons. In the love (agape) proclaimed by the Gospel persons unite and discover that they are non-dual. It is because God is Three and One. The consummate pleasure is found therein. (p 93)

This book is an attempt to re-emphasize several aspects of Christian theology: the non-dualism of the Christ; the interplay of Word and Spirit; the primary role of the feminine; the spirituality of pleasure; authority and autonomy; the freedom of the Christian; the centrality of the body; the value of other religious traditions. (p 98)
There can be little doubt as to the sincerity of the author's intentions. But his position and his propositions are untenable. I will contend against the adoption of any epistemological-psychological doctrine of humanity that is fundamentally incompatible with the theology of the logos, which seeks the same end. Simply put, I reject the doctrine of the 'chakras', just as I reject the Buddhist doctrine of the 'skhandas'. These metapsychologies are no better, even if no worse, than those of Freud and Jung.  And like the latter, they are not Christian. So too the position of Dupuche as a Roman Catholic priest with a deep-seated interest in tantra would be better suited to a Lutheran confessional stance.

I have drawn attention to the symbolic value of the water-wine motif in the first messianic miracle, and its relation to both the account of the crucifixion in the same gospel, that of John, and to the Eucharist. Chapter 21 of that gospel clearly reckons all three immanent messianic events, including the first, against the backdrop of a final 'Eucharistic' meal between Jesus and his followers, as consummatory to the discourses about 'the bread of life' and 'bread from heaven' in chapter 6 which ends emphatically on a Eucharistic note:
The Jews then disputed among themselves, saying, "How can this man give us his flesh to eat?" So Jesus said to them, "Truly, truly I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of man and drink his blood, you have no life in you; he who eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day. For my flesh is food indeed, and my blood is drink indeed. He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him. As the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so he who eats me will live because of me. This is the bread which came down from heaven, not such as the fathers ate and died; he who eats this bread will live for ever." This he said in the synagogue, as he taught at Capernaum. (John 6.52-59)
It should be obvious to anyone reading Dupuche's remarks about the 'Kula ritual' relative to the remark about the Mass becoming a tantric ritual in chapter 2, that such a comparison is worse than misguided. The Kashmir Shaivite ritual is overtly pagan, not Christian. Even if the Eucharistic themes in the first messianic miracle portray the incarnate Christ in relation to a divine  Eros, that is to say, in relation to the phenomenon of sexual love, including of course sexual appetition and satisfaction, neither they nor the actual Eucharist can be likened to anything in the Kula ritual. Dupuche refers to Abhinavagupta (c 975-1025 CE), who describes six rituals  which he calls 'sacrifices. The 'nitya' or 'daily sacrifice', is the first of these, and its sets the pattern which the others follow. It involves the practitioner drinking from the chalice, 'the sexual fluids which emanate from the body during sexual pleasure' (pp 55-56). This is transparently grotesque. Moroever, it seems to parody if not travesty the Eucharist. Where is the notion of sacrifice in such a ritual? How does it enact a sacred commemoration of the death of a saviour? And so what becomes of the relation of Eros to Thanatos? I mean not to traduce Kashmir Shaivism, but I flatly reject any suggestion that as a practice it adds to Christian Eucharistic theology. Quite apart from the profound disgust it provokes, like the reductive metanarratives of  Freud, Lacan, et al, it lacks any credible reference to the realities of suffering and death, and so finally all but abjures a psychology of Thanatos.

If we look again at the narrative in John we see that its first dominical saying contains all three conceptual forms of unity - male : female or symbolic feminine, ("woman"); time, that is space : time, ("my hour"); and soma, or mind : body, ("me"). The last of course, the body, is fully signified in the process of transition of water into wine, previously alluded to in the image of the descent/ascent of the angels on the Son of man. We can read these categories against the introductory temporal phrase 'On the third day ... (Kai\ th~? h(me/ra? th~? tri/th? ... John 2.1) as a clear reference to the conceptual aconscious,  that is, to the 'three days' of the sign of Jonah logion. Here the link forged between death and time is our prompt:
When the wine gave out, the mother of Jesus said to him, "They have no wine. " And Jesus said to her, "O woman, what have you to do with me? My hour has not yet come. ( ou)/pw h(/kei h( w(/ra mou  John 2.3-4)
In returning to the Christological rubrics, Day 1 and Day 4, and the Christological miracle stories, Transfiguration and Transformation Of Water Into Wine, this link between time and death is the most salient point in the narrative which merits our attention for what I am calling a 'Christian tantra'. It is incumbent on any such project to remedy the clearly heteronormative bias of the Taoist, Tibetan Buddhist, and Hindu tantric traditions, none of which make any allowance for same-sex relations. This is a pronounced shortcoming. We have found more than sufficient evidence in the miracle stories alone for a Christian 'tantra', that is, a Christian doctrine of the 'erotics of consciousness' which includes such relations and refuses to deem them adversarial to Christian moral psychology. The inclusion of a homosexual-erotic perspective within this doctrine is not simply a concession to current liberalising secularist trends. Here I will argue for a clear association between Reformation theology and the Lukan categories. The text which spans the first miracle story in John as far as the beginning of the next such story belongs to the Lukan theological idiom. My contention will be that the same 'secularist' theological tendencies towards the  recognition of the phenomenal reality of sexual desire and the value of conjugal love, in keeping with the gospel of Luke, having first arisen historically during the Reformation, at best have continued to ignore all same-sex relationships between consenting adults, or to label them as deviant or morally disordered. In the eyes of at least one writer this 'Reformation' remains unfinished whilever such relationships are so evaluated.

This argument is part of a broader hermeneutic of the fractio panis in the two miracles of loaves and fish which incorporates ecclesiological intentions. It has to do with understanding the outcomes of these events in the collection of 'fragments', and in turn, of course with the dialectic between identity and unity as well as logos and language. In the first feeding miracle there are twelve baskets of fragments remaining; in the second there are seven. The figures 2 and 5 of the first, clearly revert to the creation story, since they identify the all-important Transcendental rubrics denoting space and space : time respectively, vis-a-vis acoustic memory. The 'twelve' clearly alludes to the corporate being of the Israelite tribes, a figure routinely used in Mark with this among other senses. Mark we will recall, is profoundly shaped by both the conceptual form space : time, and the perceptual form acoustic memory. I will advance a hermeneutic of the figure twelve along these lines. That is, I will propose that it functions in terms of the theology of identity with regard to space : time, as well as language, viewed in the first instance from the point of view of its acoustic nature. Complementarily to this, the figure 7 in the second and Pneumatological miracle of loaves, a narrative which I have understood as a theology of optic memory, and hence immediately relevant to the graphic aspect of the logos, points in a different ecclesiological direction. It indicates what the author of The Apocalypse refers to by means of the address 'the seven churches that are in Asia' (e(pta\ e)kklesi/aiv tai~v e)n th~? A)si/a?, Apocalypse 1.4). This book is suffused with the ciphers 4 and 7, invoking the second miracle of loaves. Such a hermeneutical manoeuvre once again co-ordinates the stories of 'beginning' and 'end', 'first and last', 'alpha and omega', in accordance with their implicit Christologies. Having said that however, from an eschatological point of view especially, we must revise any notion that the former concerns the past, and the latter the future, as I have already affirmed. Any such notion flies in the face of the sure affinities of future-conceptual on the one hand, and past-perceptual on the other. The eschatological principles at work here, masculine-future and feminine-past, are decisive in any understanding we reach concerning not just the relation of the texts to one another, but the theology of religions operative in The Apocalypse.

The fundamental antithesis encountered in the P creation story consists between the Day 2 and Day 3 rubrics, not in spite of ostensible thematic comparability, but by means of it. Water figures as a central motif in both rubrics, and yet these denote the creations of the heavens and the earth respectively. Alternatively, these rubrics also reflect the text as whole, given its opening paradigmatic inclusio. The same structure is evident in each of the four quadrants of the mandala; that is in each of the four taxa constituting the categoreal forms; the two in each half of the conceptual taxonomy of beginning and the two in each half of the messianic taxonomy of end. In every one of the four cases the peripheral signa, the relata rather than the actual relation itself, which divides/unites them, are designated by comparable terms: water, living creatures, miracles at sea, and miraculous feedings of loaves and fish.

The acoustic semiosis articulates this division-unification of the dodecaphonic sequence, according to the categoreal paradigm transcendence : immanence, at its node or mid-point, so that the same compass, the octave of twelve semitones series consists of two tritones. The tritonal interval identifies the midpoint between the perfect fourth and perfect fifth, which, as inversions of each other, move clockwise and counter clockwise in their ordering of the acoustic series, taken in regard to both ascending and descending scales. The fundamental juxtaposition to which the terminal signa, thus expressed as the interval of perfect fifth and perfect fourth correspond, is that of future to past respectively. In the Day 4 rubric these are represented figuratively as sun and moon respectively. They can be read as male and female, as conceptual and perceptual, and as future and past. Of these hermeneutical possibilities, the most important is the effective Christological contrast between the two poles of consciousness, conceptual : perceptual. We avowed that as a metaphorical construct this rubric for the psychophysical, the soma, extends to encompass both forms of unity; the spatiotemporal evincing transcendence, and the anthropic evincing immanence. Its central purpose and value therefore lies vis-a-vis the metaphorical representation of the body in consciousness. So too it suggests the overlay or superimposition of these same three forms of unity on one another which establish the conceptual aconscious.

I wish to emphasise here the epistemological status of this tantra as metaphorical, not analogical, and to make a clear distinction between it and the analogical standing of the acoustic semiosis. (The metaphorical character of the soma in its relation to haptic memory will be relevant to the graphic aspect of logos, and so also to the nature of practical reason; whereas the phonetic aspect of logos and accordingly, theoretical reason, issue from the conceptual form mind in its relation to haptic imagination.) The main burden of propositional and logical clarity is the business of the acoustic semiotics and not of haptic semiotics, which is why I mention the acoustic semiosis here, even though only in passing. Any discussion of Christian 'tantra', including this present discourse itself, conformably to Luke's own mystical religious sensibility, his idiomatic epistemic predisposition for the mythopoietic, is neither more nor less than art. As practical Christian haptic-somatic meditational techniques, it may engage mudra and yoga. However, we need not yet be concerned with such possibilities.

The three axes of the matrix above thus represent not only the three serial narratives of 'beginning and end', of Genesis, gospel and of The Apocalypse. They represent the antithetical-dialectical modes which these in turn espouse, disjunctive, adjunctive and conjunctive respectively, as well of course as the polarities of mind, conceptual 'and' perceptual, where the copula central and pivotal to the same, was anticipated in the opening inclusio, 'the heavens and the earth'. They stand as well for what we mean in common parlance by the terms future-present-past. The binary opposition between the archaeological and teleological, that is, between creation-beginning and 'apocalypse'-end, reflects the immediacy of lived consciousness, the hic et nunc, in which we hear and receive the 'good news', 'the word' which was in the beginning. This lived consciousness with its necessary dialectic or paradox is most aptly put in the formal semiotics of the acoustic, whose three intervals of  perfect fifth-tritone-perfect fourth replicate the same modes of relational antithesis. A 'Christian tantra' would interpret such erotic relations as correspondingly those of male-male, male-female, and female-female respectively. If this is at once more scandalous than any Shaivite or Buddhist tantras, which remain heteronormative, then it comports with the propensity to give offense we find so often in the gospel, just as we do in speculative philosophy
. But here I emphasise yet again, the paramount logical rather than metaphorical postulate is that of the three modes of dialectical opposition informing consciousness: conceptual-conceptual, conceptual-perceptual, and perceptual-perceptual, whose exposition remains the task of the acoustic semiosis.

There is an inherent logic in the analogy between contrastive same-sex forms of love which places the male-male and female-female forms in total juxtaposition to one another, in keeping with such juxtapositions already mentioned, future-past, conceptual-perceptual, discrete-continuous and so on. These two forms of erotic love model the disjunctive and conjunctive modes of antithesis, or external and internal relations, respectively. In the case of externally related, disjunctive radicals, identity is given as maximal, and in the case of internally related conjunctive radicals, unity is given as maximal. The two disjunctive or external relations expressed in the acoustic semiosis as a perfect fifth occur in the cases listed above as
the relation of symbolic feminine to optic imagination; and the relation of symbolic masculine to optic memory. These correspond to masculine homoerotic 'tantrism'. Their inversions, in which optic imagination is related to symbolic feminine, and optic memory is related to symbolic masculine, correspond to feminine homoerotic 'tantrism'.

Male-female erotism is equivalent to the dialectical relation of the conceptual to the conceptual; hence, that of symbolic masculine to symbolic feminine. This is an external relation, expressed as the tritone. Its inversion, also expressed as the tritone, however, is the internal relation of symbolic feminine to symbolic masculine, female-male erotism. The dialectic thus turns on the ambivalence of the tritone. The same applies to the relations subtended by perceptual modes, optic memory and optic imagination. Their both relations are equivalent in semiological terms, they are both expressed as tritones. But optic memory is internally related to optic imagination. The inversion of this relation is the external relation of optic imagination to optic memory. These four relations expressed in terms of the tritone - diabolus in musica as it was once called - are Christological.


It ain't necessarily so,
It ain't necessarily so,
De t'ings dat yo' li'ble
To read in de Bible, it ain't necessarily so. ...

Oh, Jonah, he lived in de whale,
Oh, Jonah, he lived in de whale,
Fo' he made his home in
Dat fish's abdomen.
Oh, Jonah, he lived in de whale. ...

To get into Hebben don't snap for a sebben.
Live clean, don have no fault.
Oh, I takes dat gospel whenever it's pos'ble
But wid a grain of salt.

Methuslah lived nine hundred years,
Methuslah lived nine hundred years.
But who calls dat livin' when no gal will give in
To no man what's nine hundred years?

I'm preachin' dis sermon to show
It ain't nessa, ain't nessa, ain't nessa, ain't nessa, ain't necessarily so.

(Ira Gershwin, Porgy And Bess, 'It Ain't Necessarily So', 1935)
We should note just how clearly Luke's theological perspective answers to the epistemic instantiation of soma. I mean by this last phrase, what we refer to in common parlance as 'art' qua form of reason. Art as a cognitive or epistemic mode of intentionality results from the aconscious conceptual radical, soma. I have used the term 'mythopoietic' to conceptualise the outlook of specifically Lukan theology, and it remains to clarify what we mean by this term. The epistemological proximity of art and myth is prevalent throughout the gospel of Luke due to the fact that mythos as a cognitive function of mind, is indebted to the Eucharistic mode of sense-percipience itself, osmic-gustic sentience. This same Eucharistic mode of sense-percipience is as much foundational to the continuing existence of all organisms as is reproduction. But mythological or mythopoietic consciousness is normative and conscious in a manner counter to the nature of art, even given their closeness, which we glean from the relation of the body to nurturance and reproduction. The physical or so-called chemical modes of sentience, smell-taste, are actual. Like the three 'phenomenal' modes - hearing, seeing and touching - they are the concrete stuff of mundane existence. The petition for 'daily' bread in the Lord's Prayer roundly puts the case for their taxonomic identification with actual immanence. In this light we can speak of the Eucharist and of the Eucharistic miracles as being of one and the same kind. Of course, a distinction is due to the status of the Eucharist, since it is not effectively a miracle. This means that the same applies to those occasions of both knowing and desire, the actually immanent modes of intentionality, which are the products of this Eucharistic form of sense-percipience. I am proposing that the specific instance of knowing which is the direct outcome of this mode of sentience, smell-taste, is recognisable as mythological, and that its nearest kith and kin, is haptic memory. This then relates mythological and technological rationality at the epistemic level, and accordingly sexual appetition and hunger-thirst at the level of desire. Where the body or soma, and hence its epistemic consequence, art, enters this picture, is as the coneptual counterpart to haptic memory.

Luke's habitual inclination to frame his theological concerns within the context of a meal scene, his appreciation of mythopoietic rationality, and the literal semantic with which he finally ties these concerns to desire or appetition-gratification and to the Eucharist, all testify to the very proximity between mythological reason, the rationality of religious consciousness, and art as reason, mythopoietic rationality. This he carries over, as does John, into the stories of the resurrection appearances. These two evangelists alone picture the risen Christ eating and drinking with the disciples. We can explain this mutual tendency, and others also, as due to the essential relation between the epistemic hubs of their two gospels, commensurately with what we already affirm of the relations maintained by their categoreal idioms; mind and haptic imagination in the case of John, soma and haptic memory in the case of Luke. So just as the soma is necessarily incorporative of mind, so too art is necessarily incorporative of the episteme resulting from the category of mind. The same applies to the relation of haptic memory and haptic imagination; the former cannot exist without the latter. Thus we can say that where Lukan conceptual theology follows the Johannine, John's theology of the perceptual follows Luke's.

The fact that soma incorporates mind, entails that art incorporates philosophical reason. It rescues genuine art from total abandonment of cognitive responsibility, for it already then regulates a vital property of what I am broadly defining as 'art'. Namely, the characteristic proper to the epistemic function of mind simpliciter ,which we may broadly define as 'philosopic'. The logos of Johannine theology is indelibly clear regarding the abiding value and purpose of such thinking to its kerygma, placing it in direct contrast to Luke in just the sense that one is purposively inclined in virtue of everything the expression 'Word' suggests, namely reason, structure, form, clarity, in the drive towards independence from the other, art. The tutelary deity of the other, of art is Eros. Accordingly, it does not hestitate to engage rhetoric. Its first court of appeal if it is not exactly to our emotions, is to the conceptual aconscious element, soma, and at the basis of its realisation of the 'Word' as of meaning, is metaphor. I do not mean to imply that Lukan theology is irrational, or egregiously unverifiable, nor that John's is artless. As contrastive, their projected intentions are in certain vital senses complementary. We may understand this difference, or even this sameness in difference, through the temporal template already noted, that of the simultaneous solstices. There is hardly a greater contrast available in the analogical vocabulary of times and seasons, and these latter are essential to any Christian understanding of mind as of mind : body. But the juxtaposition of soma and mind notwithstanding, the former epistemologically entails more than the mere compatibility of art and reason as intrinsically good. Even if it must understand reason on its own terms, the unity of soma and mind ensures that the enterprise of art must accomodate goodness as indispensable to its epistemological authenticity. The underpinning of the reciprocity of the property of uniqueness and of the value goodness which we find in the gospels of Luke and John, rests upon the autonomy of desire and faith.

Thus art itself has a sacred obligation to reason. Its guiding genius can be no less devoted to insight than that of the philosophical impulse. This is to say that art can never abdicate its vocation to the value, goodness, which both soma and haptic memory as ultimate generalities categoreally fundamental to human consciousness, exemplify as nothing else does. These categories are as we may say, part and parcel of the anatomy of the soul. So then is goodness likewise, whether believed, or known, and whether consciously or aconsciously. Faith-in-desire, embodied faith, is therefore as committed to what is good as its counterpart, faith. This fact is determined by the external relation of mind to soma, and the internal relation of soma to mind. Even if, in the case of soma, and hence that of art itself, the instantiated value, goodness, inheres extrinsically rather than intrinsically, it nevertheless inheres intrinsically in haptic memory, and this too relates to mind internally.

In support of the arguement concerning Luke's predilection for art as episteme I mention only cursorily here that Luke has composed three of the most frequently used liturgical canticles of the New Testament: the Benedictus, the Magnificat and the Nunc Dimittus;  that he is a consummate and pictorial storyteller, writer of parables, and historian of the early community of disciples; that his Greek is, with the Greek of The Letter To The Hebrews, the best of any in the New Testament. There are similar factors testifying to his sensibilities as an artist, and which square perfectly with the thesis of sensuous knowing, in other words, art, as the remit of Lukan 'bodily' faith, and I leave to thers the task of listing these.

An important characteristic of this perspective which he shares with that of John, is in accordance with what we have already put concerning the ontogenetic quality of the soma as of mind, and equally of the two forms of haptic sentience, and therefore so too of their ensuing forms of intentionality and their instances. All four Christological categories are as 'the only begotten Son of the Father' himself. They insist upon the categorial forms, modes of intentionality, and their instantiated values in question, as imbuing consciousness with the impression of an individual and unique selfhood. Luke begins his gospel in the first person, unlike any other evangelist, contrasting himself with 'the many':
Inasmuch as many (polloi\) have undertaken to compile a narrative of the things which have been accomplished among us, just as they were delivered to us from the beginning by those who were eyewitnesses and minister of the word, it seemed good to me ( e)/doce ka\moi) also, having followed all things closely for some time past, to write an orderly account for you (soi), most excellent Theophilus, that you may know ( i(/na e)pignw~?v)  the truth concerning the things of which you have been informed. (Luke 1.1-4)
The personalism of this opening is redoubled by being addressed to a named individual. Thus the beginning of the gospel greets us on the basis of a personal encounter in just the same way as does art. In any authentic work, we recognise the hand of a single being. There is equal evidence of the same 'ontogenetic' tenor in the gospel of John, who twice refers to himself in the role of evangelist:
He who saw (memartu/rhken)it [the crucifixion of Jesus] has borne witness - his testimony (h( marturi/a) is true, and he knows (oi)~den) that he tells the truth - that you may believe (pisteu/shte). (John 19.35)

Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of the disciples, which are not written in this book, but these are written that you may believe (pisteu/shte) that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that believing you may have life in his name. (John 20.30-31)

The 'you' of both Johannine texts is of course plural; but we just as well accept it as concerning oneself if not in total isolation from all others, at least in the givenness of autonomy manifestly stemming from embodied existence. My body is me and I am not an other to myself. Further to which, we may include as possible self references by the evangelist, the several occasions when he mentions 'the disciple whom Jesus loved'. The identity of this person is hotly contested; some see him as the evangelist, some as Nathanael, some as Lazaros, some as Mary Magdalen, and some as an imagined reader responding to the gospel in the way that John himself commends in the above citations. Whatever the case, this figure who captures our imaginations and with whom we may identify as we do with the Theophilus of Luke, is in all respects a single person, an individual. The name 'Theophilus' of course complements the Johannine sobriquet, since it means 'he who loves God'.

In this respect, Luke and John alike frame their appeals in terms of personal addresses from one individual to another.
There is nothing comparable to the striking personalism of theis salutations in either Mark nor Matthew. I am classifying the quality of art qua reason, in these very same terms. Almost all if not all art objects confront us as the sui generis products of an individual, in a way fully comparable to just how the embodied being of the other confronts us; that is to say, 'objectively', standing as an object of sorts, before us, thrown into our way. In order to qualify as art, the entityin question must satisfy us as the individual, unique and irreplaceable product of the individual, unique and irresplaceable person who produced it. Thus these two gospels address us in just the same manner as does art itself. Only of course, their epistemic foundations, are related to one another now externally, now internally. Both belief and desire, the Christological forms of intentionality, and both of their permutations in the aconscious, belief-in-desire and desire-to-know, are radically marked by what I have referred to variously as individualism, personalism, or the ontogenetic. In just which respect they stand in the most pronounced contrast to knowing and will, the intentional provinces of the gospels of Mark and Matthew both.

This page was updated on 25th January 2017.

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