St Paul’s United Methodist Church and Wesley Foundation presents Padriag O’Tuama, Irish poet, theologian and podcast host.
Wednesday, October 8 at 7 pm in the worship space at St Paul’s 250 East College Avenue
ádraig Ó Tuama (b. 1975 Cork, Ireland) is a poet with interests in conflict, language and religion. He presents Poetry Unbound from On Being Studios, and has published two anthologies (2022, 2025, both with WW Norton) from that podcast. In early 2025 Copper Canyon Press published Kitchen Hymns, his fourth poetry collection. A freelance artist, one of Ó Tuama’s projects is poet in residence with the Cooperation and Conflict Resolution Center at Columbia University. He splits his time between Belfast and New York City.
Podcasts:
Kate Bowler & Padraig O Tuama, “In the Name of Belonging”
On Being, with Krista Tippett, “This Fantastic Argument of Being Alive”
Some “raves” about Padriag O’Tuama:
– He has a fantastic way with language, incorporating both Irish language and English and helping folks to think about words in different ways
– He has a lot to say about belonging and community, as someone who struggled with finding belonging as a gay person in Cork, Ireland, in both Catholic and Protestant communities
– He talks beautifully about what it means to be human and how the holy is found when we turn towards one another, in the space between us; he worked for a number of years with the Corrymeela Community, which is on the border between Ireland and Northern Ireland and did lots of work with conflict resolution with a variety of groups
– His voice (the way he speaks) is incredible to listen to, who doesn’t love an Irish accent?!
His newest collection of poems, called Kitchen Hymns has a series of 15 poems all with the same title “Do you believe in God?”. Here is a poem that the Wesley Foundation students found meaningful:
I don’t believe in God, I said, and she said, Oh?
Somehow I thought you’d managed to keep that going
even though I haven’t. She asked if I’d told others.
Yes, I said. I have. I mean, it’s not like I’m
saying I Know About What Is. It’s just that the burden
of belief isn’t on me anymore. God, it feels much freer.
I believe I’m in the room next to belief. I hear
the sounds of prayers coming through the walls. I like
the smell of incense. And the sound of fabric rustling fabric
as the people stand or kneel. Sometimes I can tell
the text by the intonation of the reader. I mutter
the responses underneath my breath. Lift up your hearts.
And do you? she asked, Lift up your heart?
Yes, I said, I do, but I don’t know to who.
Whom, she said. Let’s get started on the soup.