To be a woman in the church,
No matter the age.
Ah, that is a great source of shame.
Were you, like me, given the story of Eve
That first woman, tempted by the power of knowledge,
Not smart enough to know her place.
And poor, innocent Adam,
So trusting of the woman,
After her tango with the snake.
Taking serpent’s words, and God’s fruit into her body
Now naked and ashamed.
Man’s first words in his own defense,
“She tricked me!”.
What a witch.
Well, here’s another trick.
Scapegoat a gender, get every last one of them.
Meanwhile, stripping God of any feminine traits.
If God is male, then male is god.
Father, Son, and Holy Ghost?
That which cannot be named.
In our bodies.
This knowledge of God.
Who among us knew it first?
And of course, she was afraid.
How does a fragile human body withstand the knowledge of God
For me, it’s always some tender blend
of grief and grace –
I cannot keep it to myself.
And, yet I too am rendered a bit naked
But shame, beloveds, is not the toxic terror you’ve been told.
Just the stripping back of one or two dead layers,
Much like the snake.
Nearly every woman on earth would now pay
For the peeling
Of old skin,
Unearthing something new.
But this is not a surface peel.
The encounter with God we’ve been offered
By the snake.
When we eat the fruit, we risk becoming
For all the people we thought we were.
Scales falling from the eyes of Saul,
A new name, a new life, and here we have
Not my favorite apostle.
Some thorn is his side about women still.
Then I suppose we all have to drag our own humanity
Long after consuming what’s been given