Thursday, March 12, 2009
Scripture
1 Corinthians 6:19
Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own;
Reflection
Do you not know that your body is a temple of the indwelling Holy Spirit, and the Spirit of God’s gift to you?
As I was reading this line today, my mind instantly leapt to Maya Angelou’s 1978 poem “Phenomenal Woman.” In this poem (see the text below), the female narrator acknowledges that she does not fit the mold of beauty put forth by mainstream media. She is “not cute,” she admits, nor “built to suit a fashion model’s size.” And yet she is phenomenal—a woman filled with “cool”-ness, “fire,” “joy,” “inner mystery,” and, most importantly, pride. Though she does not say it outright, her body is clearly a temple, the outward manifestation of an inward holiness and a strong sense of self. This narrator is most likely a full-figured woman in size, as she references the “span of [her] hips,” but she is also a full figure of a woman, a woman that cannot be ignored because of what she possesses inside as well as out and who is proud of who she is even if she may not be “perfect” (whatever “perfect” really means).
Our culture demands a great deal from women these days, does it not? We are bombarded by images of size 2 models, of women with flawless skin and make-up…and, well, flawless lives. We are expected to whip ourselves into shape—work out daily, eat right, act right—to keep ourselves in line with such standards. Industries devote themselves to our “care.” For a small fortune, we can pay to get things “fixed.” But will that really make our bodies into better temples of the Holy Spirit? (Well, such changes may bring more worship our way, but from whom, for what reasons, and in what way?!) There is nothing wrong with making one’s self a healthier self—eating better or losing weight or getting exercise for health’s sake. But when those goals turn more towards a destruction of self and away from a genuine building of self, then the temple crumbles…and we are left with only ruins.
Phenomenal Woman
By Maya Angelou (1978)
Pretty women wonder where my secret lies
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
But when I start to tell them
They think I'm telling lies.
I say,
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It's the fire in my eyes
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing of my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them,
They say they still can't see.
I say
It's in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed.
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It's in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
The palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
Written by a PC Faculty
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