These Boxes

When I was a child I was given boxes to grow into
like sinew
on bone
so my identity might take
some sort of shape
in the chaos of society’s landscape.

And as I grew these boxes defined me
reminding me
who I was resigned to be.
This helped
a little
so I might know how to cross the street
so I might know my hands from my feet.

But when puberty kicked in and came knocking at the door
these boxes came tight up against
my growing breasts
repressing
my breath.

I kept quiet.

Even though every ounce of my body wanted to riot.
And belief kept me silent
telling me what this body should wear
so young boys wouldn’t be tempted to stare
so I stayed there
in those boxes
those squares
so alone
so scared.

But these boxes that held me
were more like cardboards of hypocrisy
infused in a bubble wrap of patriarchy.

Like
priests who repress their sexuality
only to molest those who have barely hit puberty.

Like
pastors of mega churches
who preach fire and brimstone
and God’s love
in the same sentence
in the same tone.

Like
churches who say ‘All are welcome!’
when really they want you to become one of them
when really they want you to see your body as the problem.

But this vessel the same one Jesus lived and breathed through
the same flesh formed from earth’s dust
morning’s first dew
is the only box that has ever grown with me.
She, my beloved, taught me to see
beneath the veil of this world’s insanity.
She, my beloved, taught me to breathe
to let go this shame
to reclaim my rage
to sing my truth out of this cage
a subversive soliloquy
of my strength and sensual identity.

Like
when Mary Magdalene wiped Jesus’ feet
with her tears, her hair and a perfume so sweet.

Church can be so much more than the boxes created by white men and their fragility.
Church could be something as provocative as Jesus’ ministry
from when he suckled on Mary’s teat
a women not lowly or meek
who taught him to listen to women speak
and prophecy
and proclaim
so that he might change the game.

So
that when a child comes out as queer
we will remember to not hinder them for the kingdom of God is near.

So
that we might live the phrase ‘All are welcome!’

So
that we might not preach fire and brimstone
but trade out male pronouns in scripture
to provide a richer picture of creation’s mixture.

So
that we might see how Spirit moves where she damn well pleases.

See this.
This could be church.

So let us get rid of these boxes
the same ones Jesus threw away
so we might enter a heaven
deeper and wilder
in this box
this body
this vessel
today.