The Girl & The Goddess
April 26, 2009 § 5 Comments
In a garden of Vatican City, a priest sat down on an early morning with a group of children to discuss ancient stories about God. He told them the tale of the Greek myth Pandora’s Box, as well as the story of Adam and Eve.
The children were intrigued.
The priest, being a gifted raconteur, made them laugh and wince at the sensational narratives of Pandora and Eve being responsible for the evils, disease, and atrocities of the past, current climate, and the time to come.
When the priest concluded, he asked the aspiring young disciples if they had questions. He waited for a moment. None raised their hand, nor their voice. As he stood to adjourn, the youngest of the bunch stood with him.
“Yes, my dear? Do you have a concern?”
“Yes, Padré,” she said.
“Speak, young one.”
“It seems to me that those stories are rubbish.”
The other kids giggled.
“Silence, children,” spoke the priest sternly. “Rubbish?”
“How old are you, child?”
“Ten, but My Dad says I have a mature soul.”
“How right he is. Tell me, why do you think these stories, which are the cornerstones of faith for billions of people, rubbish?”
The girl looked up to the muddled clouded sky. She breathed deeply, then began.
“It seems to me, or rather, I do not understand, why girls are blamed for everything,” she said with a sheepish british accent.
The priest spoke.
“My sweet girl, think not it blame. It would be best to understand the responsibility Woman has had from the beginning. Responsibility that She has neglected. God simply desires for us all to learn from the mistakes Adams’ help has made.”
The girl looked crossly at the priest.
“Adams’ help?” she asked. “I don’t understand why God made girls to merely help boys.”
“There is a lot you do not understand, yet. All in due time, my child. Please sit, we will continue this enquiry at a later date.”
The girl sat, though she was not content. The priest benedicted the session with a solemn prayer. As he turned to leave, the young girl blurted out, “Padré!”
He turned around slowly, unkempt with irritation. “Yes?”
“Does God have a mother?”
The Priest was irate.
“No. God is the Alpha & Omega. The model of creation and life that we have was given a male personification as an intention of order for us as His supreme beings.”
“Well, if that’s the case, why does all life have a female counterpart? Even in nature, the female is looked upon as chief in a lot of species. The bee, the ant, praying mantis, birds, spiders, moth, the list goes on and on. God even went as far as to make some things hermaphroditic, to show the individualism, and yet, the union of both the male and female energies.
We refer to the planet as Mother Earth. Men call their cars she. Even the Bible in Genesis 1:27 says, ‘So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him; male and female created he them.’ Then it goes on to say that God blessed them – not just man, but woman and man together; then God tells them to be fruitful and subdue the earth, and this was many verses before he took Adams’ rib to create Eve.”
The girl paused, then rhetorically asked, “Is not Elohim a singular AND plural Hebrew term for God?”
“My little dear…”
“Forgive me Padré, but I’m not finished.”
The other children were stunned. She kept her focus.
“It also seems to me that if God does not have a mother, then there has to be some part of God that is female.”
“My child, you speak of what you do not know,” said the priest.
“Perhaps. But I know what I feel. And it feels like God is not happy with us for all these years referring to Him as just The Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Could maybe the Holy Ghost be female? I mean, Jesus did say that he would send a comforter in His stay once he ascended. And who better to bring comfort to us than a female spirit, or maternal soul – like a mother? They are our most dearest nurturers. We live in their tummies months on end for protection while we develop. We feed from their breasts once we’re born. We cry out for them when we’re hurt or scared. Or maybe God is The Father, Son, Holy Ghost and The Mother!”
“That’s enough!” shouted the priest. “There is no feminine part to the Deity. Hold your tongue and sit down.”
The girl stood for a few seconds, then she began to weep silently as she sat. She never spoke of God being a Mother to this priest again, but in her heart she knew.
~ written by Hiram Surtyr ~