“Is it a sin to kiss a boy?”  That’s really the only thing the girls in my eighth grade catechism class wanted to know.  Our teacher was a young woman who always seemed on the verge of crying.  Later that year we found out her fiancée had run off and married another woman.  We all felt sorry for her.

She tried her best to answer by not answering.  “It depends on what kind of kiss it is, how long you kiss, and what else is happening,” she answered.  We knew she was in over her head, but we didn’t care.  We wanted definite answers to questions like, “How many minutes can we kiss before it turns into a sin?”  I hadn’t done much kissing yet, but I was glad that some of the other girls were persisting with this line of questioning.  I needed guidelines.  The future of my soul was at stake.

Finally, our young catechism teacher told us she really wasn’t qualified to answer our questions.  She promised that she would consult with the parish priest and have a definitive answer for us the following week.  That was the week our class had perfect attendance.

“I asked Father Reilly about your questions.  He told me that it is a sin for you to participate in any activity that causes the boy to have ‘impure thoughts.’ He also warned me not to allow you to turn our discussions toward these matters again.”

I could not believe what I was hearing!  I get the black mark on my soul and am barred from entering Heaven for what some boy is thinking?  How is that fair to punish me for someone else’s thoughts, especially when I’m not  getting a clear-cut answer about how many minutes it might take for these “impure thoughts” to take hold?  Clearly, this was a grave injustice.

A large crack in my Roman Catholic armor split open that day.  Over time I allowed myself to have my own ideas about goodness, love, relationships, and our bodies.  My beliefs made more sense to me than the precepts of my church.  (And to think that just about everything I had ever been taught about good and evil, my body and my soul, and what constituted a sin was up for grabs, all because no one would tell me how long a kiss could be before it became a sin!)

At about the time I was old enough to kiss, all the things I had been taught had come together to produce a perfect storm of shame, uncertainty, and guilt.  Eating too much brought the sin of gluttony to my doorstep, but if I didn’t eat everything on my plate, I was considered ungrateful, needing a reminder about the starving children in China.  If I spent too much time in front of the mirror, the sin of pride stared back at me. Budding sexual desires plopped me firmly into the category of those boys the priest warned us about.  Giving in to “impure thoughts” was certain to thrust me ever closer to the gates of Hell.  I think it’s safe to say that I was not comfortable with my body.

That was then. This is now.

I have finally made peace with the body I was given.  I understand now that my body is not evil or weak or sinful; it is the home where the invisible, undefinable part of me resides.  Who I am is deeply encased within my body, which moves about and experiences the physical world through the five senses and its capacity for thought and emotion. The essence of who I am resides within my soul—a personal amalgam of personality, beliefs, and desires, stamped with the imprint of all humanity deep within its core.

My soul is my inner reality, my consciousness, the “animating presence within…” (Eckhart Tolle, The Power of Now.)   Who I am is housed for a brief time in a fragile and finite body, but it is not fragile or finite itself.  It is Being, connected to the Source of All Being—that which is unmanifested and cannot be known or explained.  It is Goodness.

My physical body is “a visible and tangible outer shell.” (Eckhart Tolle, The Power of Now.) It is the way others recognize who I am and secures my place in the physical world.  It is a vehicle for experiencing the world and making my own mark upon it.  It allows me to think deep thoughts, appreciate moments of great beauty, and share my love for others in a tangible way.

And it really likes to kiss.