Friday, July 22, 2011

Humanity



To Be Human


we live in a
culture that can't talk
about sex

I read an essay not so long ago, written by a woman who received a Facebook friend request from a man who 13 years earlier had raped her. Although she never accepted the request, she did call him. Opened her woundedness. Asked him to talk about what he did and why. She writes that this “hour-long phone conversation with the man who raped me . . . was more helpful than 1,000 hours of therapy.”

It was a compelling piece of writing, and the author handled her subject both honestly and carefully. It was refreshing because – frankly – we live in a culture that can’t talk about sex. Not without a sneer, a snide comment, a joke, or some kind of sotto voce complicity (as though the discussion itself is suspect).

That’s what I find so refreshing in the Bible’s Song of Solomon. There is no shame. Instead, there is honesty, vulnerability, passion – even the passion that will continue to pursue in spite of cultural boundaries (implied by the beating received at the hands of those “sentinels of the walls” who “took away my mantle”).

And that’s what I find so frustrating in some of the early church fathers, such as Origen, who seems convinced of the evil of “fleshly desires.” He writes that only those “free of the vexations of flesh and blood . . . withdrawn from the desire for corporeal nature” may read this Old Testament book. And that’s what I find so frustrating in Bernard of Clairvaux’s insistence, likewise, that perceiving the message of the Song with “any shadow of corporeal substances” is nothing more than an “evil suggestion[s] . . . forced upon us by the bad angels.”

If Jesus was fully human, then we should be free to be the same, opening our woundedness and our longings, discussing with honesty and passion what it is to want.

At Barclay Press.

1 comment:

Ian said...

Well-put! Very powerful anecdote too.

Songs of Songs certainly resists the tendency among many of the early Church fathers to devalue the physical body's contribution. This is what we can appreciate about Hebrew philosophy: it is a very corporeal, almost visceral, religion, devoid of any sort of body-spirit dualism. I agree that the spirituality we encounter in Songs of Songs has much to offer.

I think too often we assume that because Jesus never married and lived a celibate life he was somehow an asexual person. I'd like to think that because he embodied humanity so perfectly, he was more connected to his sexuality than any of us are! Just because he never had sex doesn't mean he didn't experience his sexuality very deeply.

Your post reminds me of the opportunity I received last fall to visit the Metropolitan Community Church in Portland with my Shared Praxis class. MCC is home to people from Portland's LGBT community. Getting to worship with them was very meaningful, as well as healing; I appreciated their sincerity.

Following the service, we had a dialogue session with the pastor and a few members of the church.
One woman shared about her struggle with her homosexuality. She had actually been a student at George Fox and had served for a year as a resident assistant. She tried incredibly hard to rid herself of her lesbian inclinations, without success. Her struggle got to the point where she was on the verge of committing suicide; it was at that moment that she had an encounter with God in which she heard Him speaking to her. He didn't want her to kill herself!

She cried as she told us these things, and I couldn't help but cry as well. I was so moved by her earnestness and tenderness. After the conversation, I thanked her, and she embraced me with such warmth.

My friend Brian suggested to me that every relationship we have is sexual. I'm not quite sure what he means by that, but somehow, I think he's right. I don't think he's saying that every relationship is erotic. Rather, I think every relationship we have somehow involves our sexuality; it's such a foundational part of who we are. I think a relationship that didn't involve our sexuality would be less healthy, less whole.