MotherJana

Water is my wine. The earth is my body.

Be a Prude in the Temple

Prude: (Archaic) Of great virtue; honest; wise

The painting comes to me as if in a dream. –Vincent Van Gogh

 

I’ve been looking at a lot of statues of Jesus in Catholic churches, lately, and you know what I’m wondering?

I’m wondering if he wasn’t a woman.

I mean, does anyone know what was beneath that loincloth?

Because hanging on the cross? Dude looks the same way I did when I was giving birth to my son in the hospital.

They had me splayed out on the operating table when I was in labor, arms wide, palms up, and they cut into me and stuff. I couldn’t move or anything. They wanted to keep me real still.

Instead of saying, Wow, this body is amazing, look at what it can do! They said, Shit, this thing is too powerful, gotta find a way to control it.

They said, Let us take over instead of Nature. What does Nature know? She’s wild. Gotta find some way to hold her down.

Let’s give her drugs.

Let’s lock her up.

Let’s tell her her body it’s a poison.

Let’s make her think she is nothing without us. 

Let’s tell her it’s in her best interest to be tamed and controlled.

Let’s convince her she’s dangerous. 

These are the crappy messages we women have been subject to for centuries.

But we’re going to pray anew.

What would it be like in this world, if we had a truthful appreciation of the female body? A recognition that a woman’s body is holy and fearfully, beautifully made?

Jesus did die on the cross to teach us something. He showed us that pain and suffering—labor—is a window to new life.

And women all over the world are being reborn every day.

Jesus, my baby, showed us that we can go through our crucifixion and come out on the other side. We can get off of the cross we’ve been carrying for generations and resurrect ourselves. We must die to the Old Woman, and appear anew in the flesh.

It’s time to rise up, sisters.

Jesus is our healer, our helper, our guide. He whispers in our ears: Your blood is holy water!

He whispers, Let go—it’s the only way you’re gonna get New Life!

He whispers, The time is here. 

Open hands. Open arms. Open heart.

Let’s dance in the Golden Temple and celebrate the beauty that God made.

 

Categories: spirituality and faith

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