Excerpts

Eva’s Dance

Once a baby girl was born with a dancing and singing heart. She smiled and laughed and wiggled as babies do. She danced her hands and arms and legs in the air, and after she learned to walk, she began to dance on her feet. What else is the way we move our bodies but our dance?

What else is the way we express our unique selves but our song? Eva enjoyed hers immeasurably, singing and dancing freely every day.

When Eva turned three, she had a birthday party, and her mother made her a crown of purple construction paper and glitter that said “queen” — and that is exactly what Eva thought she was. She was regal, benevolent, and beautiful, and she loved wearing purple.

While queen, she heard the voice of her Fairy God Mother — no, wrong story, it was her Fair Mother God speaking to Eva’s heart. “A queen you are, Eva. Dance like a queen and share your queenly goodness and remember above all that it is herself that a queen must rule: Queen Mother advice, which Eva happily received.

Eva went to church with her family and one day started Sunday school. She loved it there. There were snacks and crafts and friends and music and flannel boards. (No dancing in those days.) She loved the pictures and the stories about Jesus, especially Jesus with children on his lap, Jesus healing, Jesus feeding the hungry, Jesus in the wilderness, Jesus welcoming Martha and Mary and all his friends, Jesus challenging the rich and powerful, Jesus living simply — Jesus, the prince of peace. She heard the voice of her Mother God affirming, “You are Jesus’ friend Eva. Listen to Jesus’ call to follow. Become all you are meant to be just as Jesus did.”

Eva learned to pray to “Our Father, Hallowed be thy name,” and she became confused. She had never before thought of God as a man. It was the voice of her Mother God she knew. “Deliver us from evil.” She shuddered to wonder what evil that might be. She sang, “Oh, be careful little hands what you do . . . mouth what you say . . . feet where you go, for the Father up above is looking down in love.” She sang, “I am weak but he is strong . . . the Bible tells me so,” and learned enough about hell to be careful to avoid every evil she could imagine.

Eva worked hard to understand. She was intuitive and perceptive, always watching, listening, and integrating. She wanted things to make sense. She wanted to make people happy. She wanted to belong. She wanted to go to heaven. The voice in her heart wasn’t quite as loud, but still she could hear, “Eva, remember who you are. Keep paying attention. Keep speaking up. Remember your dance and your song.”

Eva loved to wear dresses, especially purple, twirling ones. There was, however, the problem of her underwear showing. So, she wore tights; but having no hips to hold them up, she had to lift her dress to pull them up when they slipped down. This met with disapproval and shame. What was wrong with underwear showing anyway? She heard quietly from her Mother God, “Keep on twirling, Eva. Your body is beautiful. Your dance is exquisite.” Some mothers think everything their children do is precious.

Eva saw a performance of dance students one day and longed to be part of a dancing show. Her parents were concerned about what the church people might think about her dancing so they didn’t arrange for dance classes. So, Eva did most of her dancing in private. Besides, her parents were quite busy with her brothers’ sporting activities. She took piano lessons, but made a lot of mistakes at recitals. She could barely hear the soft voice saying, “Your performance need not be perfect, Eva. Just keep dancing and making music, and invite others into their own music and their own dance. Each one’s expression is to be treasured.”

In church, in school, and at home, Eva began to notice that boys were given more respect for their ideas and initiative as well as more privileges. In school she could tell it would be better not to be too bright or to sparkle too much if she wanted to fit in. In language, the preference for males was clear. Often “people” were referred to as “men.” At times that meant just men; other times, it meant both men and women. It was very confusing, but she tried hard to sort it out right. All the language about God seemed to suggest that God was a man, and in her church only men had authority. They had all the important jobs — except, of course, the really important job: teaching Sunday school. Women usually did that. That’s where Eva kept learning those stories about Jesus, how much he loved children and loved to tell the truth and was never afraid to speak up, even to people in power.

In school, Eva learned about the sciences. She began to wonder about the six-day creation story. When she asked how her new understanding of science fit in with the stories of the Bible, she was encouraged not to think about it too much. She should just believe the words of the Bible and realize that to have faith was to believe in what one could not understand or explain. It was a simple answer for such a complex concept. Eva gradually put aside her questions, accepted the answers she was given, and looked for guidance in the Bible. She heard the faintest whisper of her Mother God saying, “Where are you, Eva? I can hardly see your dance, or hear your song, or recognize your voice.” Mothers know when their children are slipping away. But Eva could see no other way to go or to be. She loved her family and her church and she wanted to belong, so she paid careful attention and followed the rules and expectations very well.

Before long, Eva developed into a young woman. She got hips, so tights were less of a problem, and by then girls had permission to wear pants. But she also got breasts, and there was a lot of attention about those. She was reminded to keep them covered up as much as possible so she wouldn’t bother boys and men. She began to feel bad about her breasts, and she wore baggy clothes to hide her discomfort and fear. Her dance became awkward and inhibited. She stopped wearing purple. She listened to the little bits of information she could get about her budding sexuality, summed up in the phrase, “Just say no.” She did the best she could. She couldn’t hear the voice any more, and she paid little attention to the world at large. Without even knowing, she had given in to the powers above her. Eva didn’t feel like a queen anymore, but she tried hard to fit in with her church and Christian youth programs. She read her Bible every day and memorized lots of verses. She told her friends they must believe in Jesus or go to hell. She forgot most of what she used to know about dancing and being a queen. She forgot about making music in her heart. She could hardly remember having her own voice and thinking for herself. She had lost the confidence to offer her own gifts and wisdom to the world.

Years passed and Eva grew up, got married, had babies, and became very busy with mothering. She began trying to make her children fit into the same mold she’d known. She said “no” a lot, tried to manage their strong wills, and cared more than a little about approval from her family and church. Soon enough, however, she fell deeply in love with those amazing children and started listening to them. Her husband was listening too and did not hold her back from discovering her truth. As she saw their dancing and heard their singing, honoring their questions and insights and responding from her heart, she began to recognize the voice that had been quieted and lost to her. She moved back into her body and her mind, and she remembered how she also loved to dance.

Together with her family, she began to hear and speak the truths of their Mother God once again. She started dancing, making music, speaking up, and saying “yes” to herself and to her children. She started paying attention to what was happening in the country and in the world.

She was amazed and angered at how Jesus’ teachings had been twisted by people in power calling themselves Christians. Public education budgets were chronically underfunded while the military industrial complex flourished. Health care was unavailable or unaffordable to many.

Government was being urged to control and interfere with women’s most personal reproductive health choices. It was impossible for many workers to earn a wage adequate to feed their families or to buy a home. Protection of the environment was disappearing. Individuals of certain sexual orientations faced discrimination. The rich and powerful were given every advantage while increasing their profit from the labor of the poor. Men intent on world domination were spending lives and billions of dollars on wars and weapons. Fear reigned, and civil rights were threatened. In many churches and families, women were second-class citizens. In many homes, violence against women and children was rampant. Nuclear weapons were a hair trigger away from annihilating all the living things she cared about. Who was paying attention? How could this desperate situation be transformed? What would Jesus say? She felt so discouraged.

Still, Eva danced, and listened, and thought about Jesus’ life and message, and studied to learn what was true. She questioned her church and her family. At last, her own mother told her to keep thinking for herself. She discovered that sometimes a mother knows just what you need to hear. She found a church that was welcoming to children, women, diversity, dance, and thinking.

She learned that parts of the Old Testament were written as myth or poetry to convey profound truths in timeless ways. Other parts were historical accounts, but none of it was a science book. She discovered rich metaphors there for the feminine qualities of God.

She discovered that the New Testament writings were collected almost three hundred years after Jesus’ life on earth (by men, not women), and that many gospels were not included (some by women) — gospels that spoke of God’s nature as both mother and father. She marveled at the diversity of the early church.

She realized how Jesus himself was radically feminist, activist, and political as he honored and included women and challenged the conventional power structures of his time.

She came to appreciate that God alone is ruler of the conscience, and that no one else can dictate our beliefs or moral choices. Until we have a perfect world, we must listen to each other, support one another, and pass laws that are fair and safe.

She affirmed the importance of preserving the separation of church and state, so that all people can be free to understand and honor God in their own way.

She began to recognize Jesus’ message reflected in the wisdom and truths of other faith traditions, and her dance expanded.

She became more courageous in speaking her views on issues of politics, social justice, and freedom of speech. She took her right to vote seriously. She voted her convictions with her dollars, spending more locally and ethically. She began to stand with the Women in Black as a witness for peace and in solidarity with those whose lives have been devastated by war and violence.

She expected those she trusted to speak honestly, to live their beliefs, and to act for the public good — in her family, her church, her community, and her political affiliation. She began to understand how the power and influence of women, when not acknowledged, manifests subversively, but without the necessary accountability that ensures the courage and integrity of conviction. She realized that women must openly share equal partnership in power and perspective for the good of all.

Finally, Eva began to see and to believe that things would change. Jesus said, “The truth will make you free.” She believed that the truth of Jesus’ life and witness would be a powerful and transforming force in the world when the compassion and courage from mothers and others welcomed and defended each being in the music and dance of truth.

And every day, Eva danced.

 

Roberta

As a young girl, I was vibrant and carefree. My life was full of spontaneity and passion. My father endearingly referred to me as “the Bucking Bronco that needed to be tamed.” Fort Lauderdale, Florida — the land of bikinis, vacations, sun, and fun — was my playground from the time I was six until I was eighteen. This was the perfect setting for all sorts of adventurous explorations. In sixth grade, the many rules were tested, bent, even broken.

Unfortunately, I consistently got caught — for smoking, for kissing, for having too much fun. My parents enrolled me in piano, tennis, and modeling courses all at the same time, hoping they might subdue my “reckless spirit.” They didn’t — until one day, when a “miracle” happened. The summer after my sophomore year at the public high school, I decided to be “born again.”

During my preteen and early teen years, I had defied anybody and everybody, including my parents, school authorities, even the elders at church. Although I was unaware of why I was doing this, I knew my family was experiencing constant turmoil and stress. I felt as if there was nowhere to get the support I needed. At sixteen I found myself looking for solace, good parenting, and the extended family support a church could provide. Suddenly, much to my own surprise, I willingly made the choice to become an active member of the conservative Protestant church that for so long I had mocked. I began attending Bible studies three nights a week at the Gangway Christian Coffee House, became a trainer in D. James Kennedy's Evangelism Explosion program, and enrolled in the Christian high school associated with Coral Ridge Presbyterian church.

People from the church convinced me that my dad was right: I was a wild bronco and I desperately needed to be tamed. They told me to break all my dearly loved “heathen” records and listen only to Christian music. I was told to reserve my lips for God and the man I would marry someday. They admonished me to quit my successful modeling career and surrender my life fully to Jesus. Modeling, they told me, would lead me to temptation and an ungodly life. Without realizing it, I was learning that in order for me to survive, my authentic self had to die. I knew the only option for me was to settle in and become a good girl.

I especially remember a teen outing at the beach sponsored by the church. I asked some of the older Christian women what type of bathing suit I should wear. I wanted their approval. They told me to wear a one-piece suit, loose fitting, like a jumpsuit. Their description reminded me of one of those suits with a full skirt that came halfway down my thigh — the sort of suits I had seen only on senior citizens.

Before I was “born again,” I’d been proud of my body. I was fit, making regular workouts at the gym a priority. Estrogen had kicked in, and my girlish body had developed womanly curves that attracted attention everywhere I went. This was a new experience for me, and I loved it. I was tanned from spending so much time on the beaches, prior to the days of sun block. I had always worn a bikini, though one that was modest by today’s standards. When I broached the subject of wearing my old suit, I received a little lecture about “causing men to lust.” I wouldn’t want to be the reason some poor man “fell into sin,” would I?

That night I threw my white bikini into the garbage, feeling ashamed of myself for having worn such a skimpy suit the previous summer. Even admitting I’d owned such a sinful garment would make me suspect to the good Christian ladies of my church. From then on I became very, very careful about how I dressed. Like any teenage girl, I was obsessed with my appearance, but now my main concern was to look modest and correct. I learned to feel bad about looking good, guilty about having a fit body, ashamed of my breasts and curves, humiliated at being female.

Sin . . . clothing . . . my body . . . men — all were somehow carelessly entangled with saving my soul. And I, a young Eve, already a temptress, already guilty of causing innocent men to sin, needed a bridle.