This past weekend, I watched a TV movie from 1994 called "Island City" – a post-apocalyptic science fiction tale where an eternal youth drug had worked for some humans, while mutating many others into immensely strong and violent primal brutes. Many of the former live in a protected city, sending patrols to find other "normal" living among the brutish "recessives" in the "badlands" beyond. To avoid giving birth to more potential recessives, every adult inhabitant of the city has a special colored crystal implanted on their chest, and is only allowed to have sex with someone with the same color.
Forget how simplistic and gimmicky it seems, or that we're now beginning to understand the complexity of human genetics. Such a "solution" ignores the realities of human psychology. Did the writers of this story really think that everyone would just say: "Well, I like you, but I'm a green and you're a blue, so no dice"? Yeah, right.
It reminds me of a similar shortcoming in the Star Trek: Enterprise episode "Cogenitor" – an alien species treats members of its third sex as mere means to the end of procreation, depriving them of choices and education and even personal names. Imagine being the parent of such a child, wondering why they shouldn’t be able to make more of a contribution than simply being "assigned" to one couple after another. And as the series Alien Nation demonstrated in its storyline, it's not impossible to conceptualize a more respected social role for cogenitors.
As Isaac Asimov pointed out, a good science fiction writer must know science, and I would contend that this includes the so-called "soft" social and behavioral sciences. Human beings ultimately questions rules and find ways to work around the diverse barriers put in front of them. That is especially true when it comes to sexuality and intimacy. We may seek to find and create some rational and orderly way of choosing mates and expressing affection, but ultimately such decisions are impelled by passion and desire, even to the point of affecting what we perceive to be "rational and orderly".
There is no better real-life example than the disagreement over the hypothesized invention of "sexbots" for erotic release. Proponents see the potential for custom-made sexual partners, perhaps even doing away with sex trafficking and prostitution. Those opposed to this hitherto nonexistent technology, such as British academic Kathleen Richardson, speculate that the "unequal power relationship" between humans and robots would somehow bleed over into relationships between humans as well. Both extremes are to be congratulated for pushing the envelope of imagination, yet they do so by blithely ignoring the realities of technology, materials science, economics, and sexual psychology. Assuming that sexbots were to become a reality, it follows that they would be incredibly expensive, prohibitively so for most mere mortals. And while things like transportation and cleaning are made more efficient with cars and washing machines, erotic satiation and fulfillment demand a complexity and nuance which no artifice has come close to meeting.
Sex, like much of human and animal nature, is chaotic. That may not sound very scientific, and yet science has its own definition of chaos: sensitivity to initial conditions. Each individual is indeed sensitive to the conditions surrounding us, from birth to death, and no more so than when we interact with those around us. We may develop social and cultural structures to help us navigate, and science may provide data and insight, but in the end the course we take is our own choice to make.
Showing posts with label sex. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sex. Show all posts
Thursday, December 8, 2016
Monday, May 2, 2016
Putting Away a Childish Argument against Sex Work
I have a friend who is doing a kind of work that, as a young girl, she never thought she'd be doing. She started, albeit grudgingly, because she considered it her least-worst option. Over time, she began to see benefits to doing this work, such as flexible hours and the ability to choose her clientele. As a result, it has become a major source of income, and even with its down sides, she considers it a good job.
No little girl dreams of doing medical coding and billing.
I bring up this story because, if you replace the job description above with "prostitution", then you have one of the most specious arguments for continuing to criminalize and stigmatize sex work. It is an example of the moral solipsism of so-called "abolitionists": since they view the selling of sexual services with displeasure or disgust, then they project that every woman must share that view, and certainly our innocent children. To them, a youngster's hopes for the future are somehow equal to an adult's real-life attempts to find a job that pays the bills.
There are many reasons why children imagine themselves in certain jobs and not others. Ballerinas and movie stars appear more glamorous than cashiers and telephone operators. Likewise, firefighters and police seem more heroic and respected than garbage collectors and street sweepers. Other jobs are simply unseen and thus unknown by younger folks – warehouse stockers, sewer workers, call center managers, and so forth.
There's also a reason why young people begin to change their minds about what jobs they want to do. They may become aware of the risks that come with the job, and determine that they are not worth assuming. Ballet dancers, for example, require years of rigorous training and practice, often leading to multiple injuries, all in a highly competitive environment. A cashier, on the other hand, is able to start with simply training, with opportunities for advancing to management and above. Also, young people learn that, in order to make money and gain experience in the work force, they need to start by working in jobs they wouldn’t otherwise choose.
The pressures of parents, peers, and society not only affect people's job choices, but also the attitudes they assume about themselves. We lift up doctors, lawyers, actors, professional athletes, and that sense of prestige is reflected in their pay. We look down on minimum-wage workers, often seeing them as interchangeable as machine parts, even useless, while still relying on their labor whenever we order a hamburger or buy new clothes. This doesn’t always correspond, of course – look how we speak of the noble calling of teachers, while paying them so little – but how we look at different jobs often becomes a mirror for those who hold them.
The argument of "abolitionists" is that sex work does not qualify as work. If, as Barbara Ehrenreich says, "work is what we do for others", and transactional sex involves providing pleasure and companionship to others, then their proposition makes no sense. They might retort that sex shouldn't be work, because it "ought to" involve caring and intimacy, but this in turn ignores the caring and intimate work of nurses, nannies, and other professional caretakers, as well as the actual interactions between many sex workers and their clients.
What bothers me most when I hear or read that "no little girl dreams of becoming a prostitute" is how it perpetuates archaic gender attitudes. We assume that boys must grow into men, and endure the rough and dirty path in that direction – but girls must somehow remain virginal and pure, even if we must paternalize and infantilize them well past puberty.
Women and men make choices that they would not have considered as girls and boys. Their reasons are likewise as varied and nuanced as adulthood itself. Our approval is not the issue; assuring their safety, and affirming their humanity, is what matters.
No little girl dreams of doing medical coding and billing.
I bring up this story because, if you replace the job description above with "prostitution", then you have one of the most specious arguments for continuing to criminalize and stigmatize sex work. It is an example of the moral solipsism of so-called "abolitionists": since they view the selling of sexual services with displeasure or disgust, then they project that every woman must share that view, and certainly our innocent children. To them, a youngster's hopes for the future are somehow equal to an adult's real-life attempts to find a job that pays the bills.
There are many reasons why children imagine themselves in certain jobs and not others. Ballerinas and movie stars appear more glamorous than cashiers and telephone operators. Likewise, firefighters and police seem more heroic and respected than garbage collectors and street sweepers. Other jobs are simply unseen and thus unknown by younger folks – warehouse stockers, sewer workers, call center managers, and so forth.
There's also a reason why young people begin to change their minds about what jobs they want to do. They may become aware of the risks that come with the job, and determine that they are not worth assuming. Ballet dancers, for example, require years of rigorous training and practice, often leading to multiple injuries, all in a highly competitive environment. A cashier, on the other hand, is able to start with simply training, with opportunities for advancing to management and above. Also, young people learn that, in order to make money and gain experience in the work force, they need to start by working in jobs they wouldn’t otherwise choose.
The pressures of parents, peers, and society not only affect people's job choices, but also the attitudes they assume about themselves. We lift up doctors, lawyers, actors, professional athletes, and that sense of prestige is reflected in their pay. We look down on minimum-wage workers, often seeing them as interchangeable as machine parts, even useless, while still relying on their labor whenever we order a hamburger or buy new clothes. This doesn’t always correspond, of course – look how we speak of the noble calling of teachers, while paying them so little – but how we look at different jobs often becomes a mirror for those who hold them.
The argument of "abolitionists" is that sex work does not qualify as work. If, as Barbara Ehrenreich says, "work is what we do for others", and transactional sex involves providing pleasure and companionship to others, then their proposition makes no sense. They might retort that sex shouldn't be work, because it "ought to" involve caring and intimacy, but this in turn ignores the caring and intimate work of nurses, nannies, and other professional caretakers, as well as the actual interactions between many sex workers and their clients.
What bothers me most when I hear or read that "no little girl dreams of becoming a prostitute" is how it perpetuates archaic gender attitudes. We assume that boys must grow into men, and endure the rough and dirty path in that direction – but girls must somehow remain virginal and pure, even if we must paternalize and infantilize them well past puberty.
Women and men make choices that they would not have considered as girls and boys. Their reasons are likewise as varied and nuanced as adulthood itself. Our approval is not the issue; assuring their safety, and affirming their humanity, is what matters.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
"Lust" -- A Sermon
Delivered at Arlington Street Church, Boston MA, July 31st 2011
Parable – "Alien Visitation"
And now, breaking news … Officials at the United Nations have announced that they have been in communication with a race of extraterrestrials, but that the aliens have decided not to pursue any further contact with the human race, as they consider us to be "bereft of moral fiber."
The aliens, who are referred to by Earth scientists as Orthophagians, seem to regard human dietary habits as indulgent, wasteful and unwholesome. UN diplomats reported that Orthophagian delegates actually shuddered at offers of food, explaining that their species only consumes one simple meal every other day in private, and that they regard utterances centered on eating and hunger to be vulgar.
One French official stated in disbelief: "Restaurants are not only shocking to them, but downright disgusting. One of the aliens commented to me that the very thought of using the same plates and utensils as thousands of strangers made him nauseous, and wondered how debased people would have to be to work in such an establishment. I tried to explain that many gourmet chefs are highly regarded educators and celebrities, but he dismissed it as more evidence of an unhealthy obsession on our part, and claimed that this was the root of our civilization being so backwards in their eyes."
There was apparently a debate among the aliens about whether to send educational teams to propagate their own approach to food, which they regard as more natural and allowing greater dedication to higher pursuits, but it was feared that prolonged contact with Earth customs could have a corrupting effect.
The leader of the Orthophagian delegation was reported to have ended discussions with a backhanded expression of gratitude at having encountered the human race. "There are many heretical sects among us seeking to loosen our moral strictures," she stated, "and now we can show them just what a sordid approach will lead to."
Sermon
Seven deadly sins – Pride, Envy, Wrath, Sloth, Greed, Gluttony and Lust. How did it come to pass that lust gained such prominence, not only in the amount of energy dedicated to stamping it out, but in defining it so extremely that the mere desire for sex became dangerous in itself? The parable I offered is analogous to how many Western explorers, and Christian missionaries in particular, viewed the sexual mores and attitudes of other cultures with self-righteous disdain, and with how many on the Religious Right see much of the outside world.
With all the other sins, it’s a question of balance. Nothing wrong with a healthy sense of self-esteem, or finding time to relax and refresh oneself, or even to express anger at wrongdoing. Our culture and religious communities also tend to be more forgiving of transgressions in those areas.
But sex? Some might say that we’ve come a long way since the days of Augustine, Savonarola, the Puritans, and nineteenth century crusaders like Anthony Comstock. Still we have latter-day successors to that tradition, attempting to push sexual minorities back in the closet, interfere with women’s reproductive choices, deprive young people of accurate and meaningful education on sexuality, and even infringe on the rights of consenting adults in our private lives. And still we have a tendency to equate sexual and conformity with morality in general. Even when some attempt to redefine "lust" as unhealthy or excessive desire, we obsess over what we mean by "unhealthy" or "excessive." Fear, shame and obsession about sex looms not only over so-called "social conservatives," but over each and every one of us.
When I started Sacred Eros here a couple of years ago, providing a safe space for people to talk about sexuality issues, it amazed me how many people would contact me by email and phone to say that, as much as they wanted to attend and participate, there was still something holding them back – and yet there was still the need for advice, information, or even the simple assurance that having different desires did not make them depraved monsters.
How did we get here? How did we come to downplay the New Testament’s admonitions about anger and avarice, only to exaggerate to absurdity the idea that sexual desire itself was even worse? I would argue that it is no accident that this is tied to Eurocentric religious traditions, for the problem is not merely ethical or cultural or political, it is also deeply spiritual – and so too are the tools by which we may find a remedy.
In his book Body Theology, James Nelson offers that much of the problem stemming from the Christian tradition’s denigration and demonization of sexuality is rooted in a number of hierarchical dualisms – simplistic attempts to explain the world in binaries of inferior and superior elements. The first of these divides the world into mind, spirit and reason at the top, and body, flesh and passion at the bottom. Such a dualism did not really exist in the Hebraic sacred texts; indeed, many of the dualistic notions we take for granted in traditional Christian thought actually come from Hellenistic philosophy and various mystery cults such as the Manichees. But it is from that influence that the Greek words for love – eros and agape – were no longer interchangeable as before, but rigidly separated into the "higher, spiritual" love of agape and the "lowly, carnal" passion of eros.
The second dualism is that of gender – male over female. To this day, many churches persist in maintaining male privilege in the name of tradition and obedience to God’s law, despite the fact that a careful reading of the New Testament shows that women had a very prominent role in the formation of the early church, and Jesus himself broke the taboos of his day by freely talking with women, even those of supposedly questionable reputation. Even when first-wave feminists argued for reform in the Victorian era, many of them merely reversed stereotypical gender roles rather than challenge them altogether. Whereas before it was argued that men were inherently more rational and women more emotional, Victorian activists for sexual purity proposed that women’s essential spiritual natures should be put to use in guiding and restraining men’s animalistic libido – a theme we can still see being perpetuated in abstinence-only programs offered in high schools across the country.
These dualisms – and the very notion that reality is divided and stacked in such simplistic ways – are rooted in a misguided desire for order. Everything must be in its proper place, fitting into a precise and rational system prescribed by God and nature. Sex is for procreation, and the variety of "unnatural" sexual activities must all be done away with: masturbation, contraception, oral and anal sex, homosexuality and pornography. Forget how women’s lives are diminished and even extinguished by denying them the ability to control their own bodies. Forget the misery caused by such repression, and the energy expended to maintain it. Order must be preserved! I mentioned Anthony Comstock, founder of the New York Society for the Suppression of Vice, and the leading crusader against all things which he considered obscene and immoral (including artwork, literature and medical texts). Not only did he take great pride cataloging all of the books and pictures and devices he had destroyed in his quest, he even included in that trophy list the names of fifteen individuals whom his actions drove to suicide.
There are many problems with this whole dualistic mindset. The most profound is that it cripples our creative ability to find better ways of addressing the questions and issues facing us. Forcing the world into polar opposites simply will not do, for the world is not so simple. Rather than try to impose our limited sense of order upon nature, why don’t we seek to understand its continual and complex dance towards balance? The US Park Service, for example, for decades would decree that every forest fire must be put out – until ecologists pointed out that natural fires were part of the balance of regenerating those environments. That point was driven home after the Yellowstone fires of 1988, when the burned-over areas exploded with new growth in the months and years to follow.
Let us also find balance within ourselves, and learn to celebrate our bodies and sensuality as spiritual gifts. In this holistic view, eros can be seen as the means by which we connect with one another and with the Divine. It is the means by which the Divine’s incarnation in our flesh, our breath, our thoughts and emotions, and indeed with all of nature, is made profoundly known.
Dualism also leads to moral, social and cultural double standards which restrict how each of us is expected to experience and express our erotic desires. Consider how fervently the Religious Right opposes marriage equality – indeed, any recognition of same-gender relationships – because in their eyes it would "redefine" marriage and even destroy it. Well, if you lived in their subculture, so heavily infused with strict gender hierarchies, you’d understand just how threatening it is to propose a gender-neutral way of looking at marriage and relationships. And think of the stereotypical expectations we have regarding the intersection of sexuality with race, ethnicity, class, age, disability, and so forth.
So how should we define (or re-define) sexual sin? Should we simply look at the list of what specific actions and relationship paradigms are permissible or forbidden, and either scratch things off or write in new ones? I’d suggest that we need something much more radical than merely replacing one form of legalism with another. We need a sexual ethic rooted in the fulfillment of justice – of compassion, right relationship, mutual joy and pleasure. Such an approach is at once liberating and challenging. It is liberating in that it clears away the debris of ancient prohibitions and double standards which have choked at the forest of our souls. But it is also challenging in that it calls on us to look at sexual desire and expression with fresh eyes, and to discern with a new set of questions:
* Is there full consent and awareness here?
* What are the full range of choices available?
* What role does power and privilege play?
* Will there be balance?
* Will there be joy?
My friends, eros calls to us, to let fires burn that life may be renewed, yet not to worship the fire itself, but instead to appreciate its place in the balance of things. We are called to restore that balance – within our hearts, within our intimate relationships, and throughout a world in dire need of justice and freedom, love and delight.
Eros is calling. Do you hear, oh my friends?
Parable – "Alien Visitation"
And now, breaking news … Officials at the United Nations have announced that they have been in communication with a race of extraterrestrials, but that the aliens have decided not to pursue any further contact with the human race, as they consider us to be "bereft of moral fiber."
The aliens, who are referred to by Earth scientists as Orthophagians, seem to regard human dietary habits as indulgent, wasteful and unwholesome. UN diplomats reported that Orthophagian delegates actually shuddered at offers of food, explaining that their species only consumes one simple meal every other day in private, and that they regard utterances centered on eating and hunger to be vulgar.
One French official stated in disbelief: "Restaurants are not only shocking to them, but downright disgusting. One of the aliens commented to me that the very thought of using the same plates and utensils as thousands of strangers made him nauseous, and wondered how debased people would have to be to work in such an establishment. I tried to explain that many gourmet chefs are highly regarded educators and celebrities, but he dismissed it as more evidence of an unhealthy obsession on our part, and claimed that this was the root of our civilization being so backwards in their eyes."
There was apparently a debate among the aliens about whether to send educational teams to propagate their own approach to food, which they regard as more natural and allowing greater dedication to higher pursuits, but it was feared that prolonged contact with Earth customs could have a corrupting effect.
The leader of the Orthophagian delegation was reported to have ended discussions with a backhanded expression of gratitude at having encountered the human race. "There are many heretical sects among us seeking to loosen our moral strictures," she stated, "and now we can show them just what a sordid approach will lead to."
Sermon
Seven deadly sins – Pride, Envy, Wrath, Sloth, Greed, Gluttony and Lust. How did it come to pass that lust gained such prominence, not only in the amount of energy dedicated to stamping it out, but in defining it so extremely that the mere desire for sex became dangerous in itself? The parable I offered is analogous to how many Western explorers, and Christian missionaries in particular, viewed the sexual mores and attitudes of other cultures with self-righteous disdain, and with how many on the Religious Right see much of the outside world.
With all the other sins, it’s a question of balance. Nothing wrong with a healthy sense of self-esteem, or finding time to relax and refresh oneself, or even to express anger at wrongdoing. Our culture and religious communities also tend to be more forgiving of transgressions in those areas.
But sex? Some might say that we’ve come a long way since the days of Augustine, Savonarola, the Puritans, and nineteenth century crusaders like Anthony Comstock. Still we have latter-day successors to that tradition, attempting to push sexual minorities back in the closet, interfere with women’s reproductive choices, deprive young people of accurate and meaningful education on sexuality, and even infringe on the rights of consenting adults in our private lives. And still we have a tendency to equate sexual and conformity with morality in general. Even when some attempt to redefine "lust" as unhealthy or excessive desire, we obsess over what we mean by "unhealthy" or "excessive." Fear, shame and obsession about sex looms not only over so-called "social conservatives," but over each and every one of us.
When I started Sacred Eros here a couple of years ago, providing a safe space for people to talk about sexuality issues, it amazed me how many people would contact me by email and phone to say that, as much as they wanted to attend and participate, there was still something holding them back – and yet there was still the need for advice, information, or even the simple assurance that having different desires did not make them depraved monsters.
How did we get here? How did we come to downplay the New Testament’s admonitions about anger and avarice, only to exaggerate to absurdity the idea that sexual desire itself was even worse? I would argue that it is no accident that this is tied to Eurocentric religious traditions, for the problem is not merely ethical or cultural or political, it is also deeply spiritual – and so too are the tools by which we may find a remedy.
In his book Body Theology, James Nelson offers that much of the problem stemming from the Christian tradition’s denigration and demonization of sexuality is rooted in a number of hierarchical dualisms – simplistic attempts to explain the world in binaries of inferior and superior elements. The first of these divides the world into mind, spirit and reason at the top, and body, flesh and passion at the bottom. Such a dualism did not really exist in the Hebraic sacred texts; indeed, many of the dualistic notions we take for granted in traditional Christian thought actually come from Hellenistic philosophy and various mystery cults such as the Manichees. But it is from that influence that the Greek words for love – eros and agape – were no longer interchangeable as before, but rigidly separated into the "higher, spiritual" love of agape and the "lowly, carnal" passion of eros.
The second dualism is that of gender – male over female. To this day, many churches persist in maintaining male privilege in the name of tradition and obedience to God’s law, despite the fact that a careful reading of the New Testament shows that women had a very prominent role in the formation of the early church, and Jesus himself broke the taboos of his day by freely talking with women, even those of supposedly questionable reputation. Even when first-wave feminists argued for reform in the Victorian era, many of them merely reversed stereotypical gender roles rather than challenge them altogether. Whereas before it was argued that men were inherently more rational and women more emotional, Victorian activists for sexual purity proposed that women’s essential spiritual natures should be put to use in guiding and restraining men’s animalistic libido – a theme we can still see being perpetuated in abstinence-only programs offered in high schools across the country.
These dualisms – and the very notion that reality is divided and stacked in such simplistic ways – are rooted in a misguided desire for order. Everything must be in its proper place, fitting into a precise and rational system prescribed by God and nature. Sex is for procreation, and the variety of "unnatural" sexual activities must all be done away with: masturbation, contraception, oral and anal sex, homosexuality and pornography. Forget how women’s lives are diminished and even extinguished by denying them the ability to control their own bodies. Forget the misery caused by such repression, and the energy expended to maintain it. Order must be preserved! I mentioned Anthony Comstock, founder of the New York Society for the Suppression of Vice, and the leading crusader against all things which he considered obscene and immoral (including artwork, literature and medical texts). Not only did he take great pride cataloging all of the books and pictures and devices he had destroyed in his quest, he even included in that trophy list the names of fifteen individuals whom his actions drove to suicide.
There are many problems with this whole dualistic mindset. The most profound is that it cripples our creative ability to find better ways of addressing the questions and issues facing us. Forcing the world into polar opposites simply will not do, for the world is not so simple. Rather than try to impose our limited sense of order upon nature, why don’t we seek to understand its continual and complex dance towards balance? The US Park Service, for example, for decades would decree that every forest fire must be put out – until ecologists pointed out that natural fires were part of the balance of regenerating those environments. That point was driven home after the Yellowstone fires of 1988, when the burned-over areas exploded with new growth in the months and years to follow.
Let us also find balance within ourselves, and learn to celebrate our bodies and sensuality as spiritual gifts. In this holistic view, eros can be seen as the means by which we connect with one another and with the Divine. It is the means by which the Divine’s incarnation in our flesh, our breath, our thoughts and emotions, and indeed with all of nature, is made profoundly known.
Dualism also leads to moral, social and cultural double standards which restrict how each of us is expected to experience and express our erotic desires. Consider how fervently the Religious Right opposes marriage equality – indeed, any recognition of same-gender relationships – because in their eyes it would "redefine" marriage and even destroy it. Well, if you lived in their subculture, so heavily infused with strict gender hierarchies, you’d understand just how threatening it is to propose a gender-neutral way of looking at marriage and relationships. And think of the stereotypical expectations we have regarding the intersection of sexuality with race, ethnicity, class, age, disability, and so forth.
So how should we define (or re-define) sexual sin? Should we simply look at the list of what specific actions and relationship paradigms are permissible or forbidden, and either scratch things off or write in new ones? I’d suggest that we need something much more radical than merely replacing one form of legalism with another. We need a sexual ethic rooted in the fulfillment of justice – of compassion, right relationship, mutual joy and pleasure. Such an approach is at once liberating and challenging. It is liberating in that it clears away the debris of ancient prohibitions and double standards which have choked at the forest of our souls. But it is also challenging in that it calls on us to look at sexual desire and expression with fresh eyes, and to discern with a new set of questions:
* Is there full consent and awareness here?
* What are the full range of choices available?
* What role does power and privilege play?
* Will there be balance?
* Will there be joy?
My friends, eros calls to us, to let fires burn that life may be renewed, yet not to worship the fire itself, but instead to appreciate its place in the balance of things. We are called to restore that balance – within our hearts, within our intimate relationships, and throughout a world in dire need of justice and freedom, love and delight.
Eros is calling. Do you hear, oh my friends?
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Stone Age Sex, Modern Polyamory
The new book Sex at Dawn: The Prehistoric Origins of Modern Sexuality has been getting a great deal of buzz lately, especially with the co-authors' strong refutation that monogamy is not natural for humans. A number of polyamorists and sex radicals have been posting "told-you-so" commentary on blogs and social network pages -- and I can only imagine what more conservative folks are thinking.
Having studied social and behavioral science, I'm always skeptical of any extreme claims about human nature, whether it's about being "hard-wired" one way or another, or the old-fashioned "blank slate" theory. Neither is entirely accurate, even when talking about something as instinctive as sexuality.
For one thing, humans have enormous variability, even in the most basic elements. Some individuals have powerful libidos, while others have little to none. The question of sexual behavior -- how we channel that desire -- is as much molded by culture and psychology as it is by hormones and neurons.
Sex at Dawn provides great scientific insights, and challenges long-held preconceptions about human sexuality. But it's far from a handbook on sexual ethics. Even if we are "wired" for promiscuity, that doesn't mean we're compelled to get it on with anyone and everyone who turns us on. Our brains are also wired for more complex emotional relationships, and to anticipate long term consequences. And a sound ethical approach is one which finds a balance between primal instinct, social necessity, and individual variation.
Human nature is complex, including human sexuality. Just as we need to be skeptical about the false dichotomy of biological determinism versus tabula rasa, we also need to reject the either-or fallacy of "traditional morality" versus "moral chaos". Hopefully the buzz around this book will open people's eyes to the ethical approach adopted by polyamorists and others -- one based on consent and respect, including respect for the realities of human diversity.
Having studied social and behavioral science, I'm always skeptical of any extreme claims about human nature, whether it's about being "hard-wired" one way or another, or the old-fashioned "blank slate" theory. Neither is entirely accurate, even when talking about something as instinctive as sexuality.
For one thing, humans have enormous variability, even in the most basic elements. Some individuals have powerful libidos, while others have little to none. The question of sexual behavior -- how we channel that desire -- is as much molded by culture and psychology as it is by hormones and neurons.
Sex at Dawn provides great scientific insights, and challenges long-held preconceptions about human sexuality. But it's far from a handbook on sexual ethics. Even if we are "wired" for promiscuity, that doesn't mean we're compelled to get it on with anyone and everyone who turns us on. Our brains are also wired for more complex emotional relationships, and to anticipate long term consequences. And a sound ethical approach is one which finds a balance between primal instinct, social necessity, and individual variation.
Human nature is complex, including human sexuality. Just as we need to be skeptical about the false dichotomy of biological determinism versus tabula rasa, we also need to reject the either-or fallacy of "traditional morality" versus "moral chaos". Hopefully the buzz around this book will open people's eyes to the ethical approach adopted by polyamorists and others -- one based on consent and respect, including respect for the realities of human diversity.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Leather & Grace, Part IV: For Those Who Wonder Why
Our culture is filled with preconceptions. One is that religious groups must have a binding creed or dogma, often rooted in a particular mythological narrative. Is it any wonder, then, that many are confused when first hearing about Unitarian Universalism – a pluralistic and non-creedal faith movement? And I’m sure many other UUs out there have experienced the frustration of trying to describe our movement to someone who simply cannot get past their preconception of what a religion ought to be.
Likewise, many of us have inherited preconceptions about sexuality and relationships. One of the biggest is that, since sex is supposed to be pleasurable, and since the opposite of pleasure is pain, then the very idea of being sexually aroused by pain is, well… you get the idea.
Closely related to that is fear. We kinksters often play with fear, uncertainty, and other otherwise unpleasant emotional states. And, just as with pain, that goes against what the vast majority of us have learned about sex and intimate relationships. You’re supposed to be loving and gentle with your partner, feed them strawberries and give good hugs … not scare the bejeezus out of them!
Well, what if they want to be scared? What if they are wired in such a way that they need more extreme stimulus than the average person?
And it’s not like vanilla folks avoid fear and pain completely. How many of you love going to scary movies or riding really wild roller-coasters? Or ordered the extra-spicy Buffalo wings, or more exotic fare like Icelandic cured shark? How many of you out there have run a marathon or lifted weights, and continued even when every muscle in your body screamed with pain? Or done bungee-jumping, hang-gliding or parachuting, even when – or because – it scared the bejeezus out of you?
The fact is that context is very important to how scary or painful we perceive an experience to be. One time when I was a kid, we were rushing out of the house before sunrise for a long drive to my grandparents. I grabbed what I thought was a pitcher of orange juice, hastily poured a glass, and found myself unexpectedly drinking grapefruit juice. It would take years before I drank another glass of grapefruit juice, and it was from that I learned about how your state of mind can affect your perception of reality. And that in turn would help me later in understanding how my submissive play partners so thoroughly enjoyed otherwise painful or frightening experiences, just as some enjoy intensely spicy foods or wild amusement park rides while others may shudder at the thought of them.
Delivering such experiences is no easy task. Just as you need an instructor to guide you in parachuting or bungee-jumping, so BDSM practices require specific knowledge and skills to be done right. There also needs to be full communication between partners, if both are to enjoy the experience they share.
But for many outside of the Scene, the question still remains: Why do these particular things? The exact answer can vary from one individual to another, but overall it is because it’s not simply about intense emotions and sensations. It is also about trusting another, exploring the primal depths of our desires, and creating a safe place to dance with the shadow part of ourselves.
Likewise, many of us have inherited preconceptions about sexuality and relationships. One of the biggest is that, since sex is supposed to be pleasurable, and since the opposite of pleasure is pain, then the very idea of being sexually aroused by pain is, well… you get the idea.
Closely related to that is fear. We kinksters often play with fear, uncertainty, and other otherwise unpleasant emotional states. And, just as with pain, that goes against what the vast majority of us have learned about sex and intimate relationships. You’re supposed to be loving and gentle with your partner, feed them strawberries and give good hugs … not scare the bejeezus out of them!
Well, what if they want to be scared? What if they are wired in such a way that they need more extreme stimulus than the average person?
And it’s not like vanilla folks avoid fear and pain completely. How many of you love going to scary movies or riding really wild roller-coasters? Or ordered the extra-spicy Buffalo wings, or more exotic fare like Icelandic cured shark? How many of you out there have run a marathon or lifted weights, and continued even when every muscle in your body screamed with pain? Or done bungee-jumping, hang-gliding or parachuting, even when – or because – it scared the bejeezus out of you?
The fact is that context is very important to how scary or painful we perceive an experience to be. One time when I was a kid, we were rushing out of the house before sunrise for a long drive to my grandparents. I grabbed what I thought was a pitcher of orange juice, hastily poured a glass, and found myself unexpectedly drinking grapefruit juice. It would take years before I drank another glass of grapefruit juice, and it was from that I learned about how your state of mind can affect your perception of reality. And that in turn would help me later in understanding how my submissive play partners so thoroughly enjoyed otherwise painful or frightening experiences, just as some enjoy intensely spicy foods or wild amusement park rides while others may shudder at the thought of them.
Delivering such experiences is no easy task. Just as you need an instructor to guide you in parachuting or bungee-jumping, so BDSM practices require specific knowledge and skills to be done right. There also needs to be full communication between partners, if both are to enjoy the experience they share.
But for many outside of the Scene, the question still remains: Why do these particular things? The exact answer can vary from one individual to another, but overall it is because it’s not simply about intense emotions and sensations. It is also about trusting another, exploring the primal depths of our desires, and creating a safe place to dance with the shadow part of ourselves.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
When Eros Sings: Variations on a Theme
Sermon delivered at Arlington Street Church, Boston MA - August 3, 2008
The song which calls to me, and which I wish to share with you today, is a love song.
It is a song of passion and pleasure, of joy and joining.
It is also a song of pain, of longing, of be-longing, of the conflicts and tensions which come whenever lives come together so intimately.
Each love song we sing and hear, and each way it is sung, is unique, just as each intimate relationship is unique and beautiful in its own way. The theme which runs through all of these is universal, with endlessly diverse variations.
How often we forget this. How often our minds connect so strongly to one song from our memory, and think of it as the universal song, the ideal by which all others are to be measured.
Consider the song sung as our first hymn this morning: "Kisses Sweeter Than Wine." Even the title is an echo of the first lines of the biblical Song of Solomon: "Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth! For your love is better than wine … " How could such a song not be universal?
Well, for one thing, it follows the confines of gender, not only in that it is the story of a man and a woman, but of a man pursuing a woman, as traditional gender roles demand. Even more ideal, the man did so having "never been kissed" (and, presumably, neither had his partner), the two falling in love and marrying. As lovely as that story is, the majority of people go through several relationships before choosing to join with another for the long haul; some may never settle into a permanent relationship, yet still be perfectly content. The idealized couple in our song have children, but not all couples do. And while most people couple and remain monogamous (or at least try to) some find love and joy in groupings of three or more.
And what of the qualitative ways in which love is made manifest – the tempo and the mood? Here I would cite another song, by Bill Morrissey, where another husband and wife discuss what kind of wood to put in their stove on a cold winter night. Sipping a glass of wine, she suggests filling it with birches, inviting him to "watch as the fire burns bright" as they did in their younger days; yet he, grumbling about how he hates a cold house, insists on using oak, which "will burn as long and hot as a July afternoon." So often we are drawn to the bright passion, like burning birches, yet told to strive for a more mature and lasting love like oak – yet, like the woman in Morrissey's song, how we miss the splendid "hungry light" of first romance, however brief, wondering how we could have both birches and oak.
Finally, the satirist Tom Lehrer takes that notion of fiery all-consuming passion to a darkly humorous extreme:
Now, who could take something like that to heart? Well, as satirical as that is, many of us in the BDSM or "kink" community have embraced Lehrer's parody as an unofficial anthem. For once, someone has composed a song which, however imperfectly and mockingly, acknowledges that what we do is about love and passion.
So many songs, so many ways to sing them. Such a variety of ways to find joy, love, pleasure and connection with another.
What then is the theme, the common thread, which joins them all together? How do we bring together our diverse sexualities and relationship patterns – queer and straight, monogamous and polyamorous, vanilla and kinky, intersex, asexual, and more – in harmony with the universal song of Eros? This is the challenge which I, in my own self-exploration, have found myself taking up. How do I bring the principles and values of my UU faith to bear on something so intensely powerful and personal? And how can we, as a spiritual community, do so in a way which transforms ourselves and our world for the better?
If we believe in the inherent worth and dignity of every person, then let us affirm in word and deed alike that each of us is deserving of love, joy and pleasure. Sounds easy enough, but how often we forget to affirm this – including for ourselves.
If we believe in justice, equity and compassion, then let us speak out against both discrimination towards sexual and gender minorities, and sexual abuse and exploitation; let us further temper our attitudes and actions with compassionate concern, not only for the victims of these wrongs, but for their perpetrators as well.
If we believe in accepting one another as we are, then let us affirm each person's self-determination in how best to fulfill their desires, encouraging one another in a sexual ethic governed by honesty, respect for oneself and others, mutual consent, awareness of risk, and the affirmation of pleasure. In her book Sensuous Spirituality, Virginia Ramey Mollenkott recalled that one of the greatest gifts of inspiration she received was the advice to avoid condemning any other person's attempts to relate, however imperfect we may find it to be.
If we believe in a free and responsible search for meaning and truth, then let us speak up for comprehensive education on sexuality, not only for our children and youth, but as part of a continuous and lifelong process of growth, as a way of furthering our understanding and appreciation of the human condition.
If we believe in democracy and the right of conscience, and the goal of a just community with liberty for all, then let us provide safe spaces where people can discuss their questions, concerns and desires regarding sexuality, whether with an intimate partner, or in the context of community.
And if we believe that we are a part of an interdependent web of existence, then let us be mindful that our erotic selves are an integral part of our whole selves, and as such, one with a vital spiritual component. Let us not only infuse our respective sexualities with spiritual values and practice, but in return enliven our spirituality with a celebration of the sensuous and erotic, recognizing and affirming as the late John O'Donohue noted, the "secret relationship between our physical being and the rhythm of our soul," that "[t]he body is the place where the soul shows itself."
Above all else, my friends, let us not be complacent. It is easy to compare ourselves with those holding more conservative and puritanical approaches to sexuality and relationships, patting ourselves on the back for being so much more welcoming and open-minded. But the challenge of our progressive faith is that we must constantly question and challenge one another. We must not only speak our truths in love, but listen when others do the same, and be mindful that doing so also means speaking truth to power – including the "powers-that-be" amongst us. To hearken back to the admonition of Jesus, we need to look for the mote in our own eye before pointing to the speck in others.
The love song which calls to each of us is but one variation of the song which Eros sings to us all. Some can sweep us away, others make us think more deeply, and a few may even freak us out. But each one in the repertoire has something to tell us about ourselves and our wider human family. Like love and joy and pleasure, these songs are something to be shared, so that each of us may learn and grow and heal.
AMEN & BLESSED BE
The song which calls to me, and which I wish to share with you today, is a love song.
It is a song of passion and pleasure, of joy and joining.
It is also a song of pain, of longing, of be-longing, of the conflicts and tensions which come whenever lives come together so intimately.
Each love song we sing and hear, and each way it is sung, is unique, just as each intimate relationship is unique and beautiful in its own way. The theme which runs through all of these is universal, with endlessly diverse variations.
How often we forget this. How often our minds connect so strongly to one song from our memory, and think of it as the universal song, the ideal by which all others are to be measured.
Consider the song sung as our first hymn this morning: "Kisses Sweeter Than Wine." Even the title is an echo of the first lines of the biblical Song of Solomon: "Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth! For your love is better than wine … " How could such a song not be universal?
Well, for one thing, it follows the confines of gender, not only in that it is the story of a man and a woman, but of a man pursuing a woman, as traditional gender roles demand. Even more ideal, the man did so having "never been kissed" (and, presumably, neither had his partner), the two falling in love and marrying. As lovely as that story is, the majority of people go through several relationships before choosing to join with another for the long haul; some may never settle into a permanent relationship, yet still be perfectly content. The idealized couple in our song have children, but not all couples do. And while most people couple and remain monogamous (or at least try to) some find love and joy in groupings of three or more.
And what of the qualitative ways in which love is made manifest – the tempo and the mood? Here I would cite another song, by Bill Morrissey, where another husband and wife discuss what kind of wood to put in their stove on a cold winter night. Sipping a glass of wine, she suggests filling it with birches, inviting him to "watch as the fire burns bright" as they did in their younger days; yet he, grumbling about how he hates a cold house, insists on using oak, which "will burn as long and hot as a July afternoon." So often we are drawn to the bright passion, like burning birches, yet told to strive for a more mature and lasting love like oak – yet, like the woman in Morrissey's song, how we miss the splendid "hungry light" of first romance, however brief, wondering how we could have both birches and oak.
Finally, the satirist Tom Lehrer takes that notion of fiery all-consuming passion to a darkly humorous extreme:
I ache for the touch of your lips, dear,
But much more for the touch of your whips, dear.
You can raise welts
Like nobody else
As we dance to the Masochism Tango.
Let our love be a flame, not an ember
Say it's me that you want to dismember
Blacken my eye
Set fire to my tie
As we dance to the Masochism Tango.
Now, who could take something like that to heart? Well, as satirical as that is, many of us in the BDSM or "kink" community have embraced Lehrer's parody as an unofficial anthem. For once, someone has composed a song which, however imperfectly and mockingly, acknowledges that what we do is about love and passion.
So many songs, so many ways to sing them. Such a variety of ways to find joy, love, pleasure and connection with another.
What then is the theme, the common thread, which joins them all together? How do we bring together our diverse sexualities and relationship patterns – queer and straight, monogamous and polyamorous, vanilla and kinky, intersex, asexual, and more – in harmony with the universal song of Eros? This is the challenge which I, in my own self-exploration, have found myself taking up. How do I bring the principles and values of my UU faith to bear on something so intensely powerful and personal? And how can we, as a spiritual community, do so in a way which transforms ourselves and our world for the better?
If we believe in the inherent worth and dignity of every person, then let us affirm in word and deed alike that each of us is deserving of love, joy and pleasure. Sounds easy enough, but how often we forget to affirm this – including for ourselves.
If we believe in justice, equity and compassion, then let us speak out against both discrimination towards sexual and gender minorities, and sexual abuse and exploitation; let us further temper our attitudes and actions with compassionate concern, not only for the victims of these wrongs, but for their perpetrators as well.
If we believe in accepting one another as we are, then let us affirm each person's self-determination in how best to fulfill their desires, encouraging one another in a sexual ethic governed by honesty, respect for oneself and others, mutual consent, awareness of risk, and the affirmation of pleasure. In her book Sensuous Spirituality, Virginia Ramey Mollenkott recalled that one of the greatest gifts of inspiration she received was the advice to avoid condemning any other person's attempts to relate, however imperfect we may find it to be.
If we believe in a free and responsible search for meaning and truth, then let us speak up for comprehensive education on sexuality, not only for our children and youth, but as part of a continuous and lifelong process of growth, as a way of furthering our understanding and appreciation of the human condition.
If we believe in democracy and the right of conscience, and the goal of a just community with liberty for all, then let us provide safe spaces where people can discuss their questions, concerns and desires regarding sexuality, whether with an intimate partner, or in the context of community.
And if we believe that we are a part of an interdependent web of existence, then let us be mindful that our erotic selves are an integral part of our whole selves, and as such, one with a vital spiritual component. Let us not only infuse our respective sexualities with spiritual values and practice, but in return enliven our spirituality with a celebration of the sensuous and erotic, recognizing and affirming as the late John O'Donohue noted, the "secret relationship between our physical being and the rhythm of our soul," that "[t]he body is the place where the soul shows itself."
Above all else, my friends, let us not be complacent. It is easy to compare ourselves with those holding more conservative and puritanical approaches to sexuality and relationships, patting ourselves on the back for being so much more welcoming and open-minded. But the challenge of our progressive faith is that we must constantly question and challenge one another. We must not only speak our truths in love, but listen when others do the same, and be mindful that doing so also means speaking truth to power – including the "powers-that-be" amongst us. To hearken back to the admonition of Jesus, we need to look for the mote in our own eye before pointing to the speck in others.
The love song which calls to each of us is but one variation of the song which Eros sings to us all. Some can sweep us away, others make us think more deeply, and a few may even freak us out. But each one in the repertoire has something to tell us about ourselves and our wider human family. Like love and joy and pleasure, these songs are something to be shared, so that each of us may learn and grow and heal.
AMEN & BLESSED BE
Sacred Eros: Embodying the Divine in Our Sexualities
A homily delivered at Arlington Street Church, Boston MA - September 5, 2007
Jesus Christ. The Buddha. The Prophet Mohammed. Lao Tzu.
What do you think of when you hear these names? Their spiritual teachings? The examples of their lives? I’ll wager that the last thing you think about is their lives as sexual human beings, with desires and passions like our own.
This is just one example of how our culture – even in so-called liberal quarters – persists in dividing sexuality and spirituality from one another. Eros, as passionate and primal love, was demoted by early Christian theologians who claimed that the “higher” spiritual love of agape was the ideal to which all people should aspire. In fact, this so-called split between physical passion and spiritual love owes more to the influence of Manichean and Stoic dualism on the thought of Augustine and other church fathers, and ignores how the Bible not only includes the Song of Solomon, but in many places uses the terms agape and eros interchangeably.
Granted, we have come a long way since then, both in theory and in practice. There is the fact that I can stand here and deliver this homily, in one of many churches which welcome people of all sexual and gender identities. Then there is our denomination’s shared work with the United Church of Christ in creating and presenting one of the most widely praised sexuality education series, “Our Whole Lives.” But it’s hard to overcome centuries of anti-sex dualism. Ours is still a rarified atmosphere here at Arlington Street Church, and much of the surrounding American culture would prefer not to talk seriously about sexuality, or to do so in embarrassed, even shameful whispers. Even supposedly progressive and enlightened individuals can be, and often are, reticent to discuss and come to terms with various aspects of human sexual expression.
This is the challenge to progressive spiritual communities such as ours. If sexuality is as important an aspect of our being as any other, then is it not as much spiritual as anything else? If it is a source of joy, pleasure and connection, then should we not then see it as a means by which we may embody the Divine within and amongst ourselves? And if we wish, in the words of lesbian feminist theologian Virginia Ramey Mollenkott, to reclaim Eros as a spiritual urge, then should we not dare to rethink the very presumptions by which we view the myriad ways that we and our fellow human beings express and connect through sexuality?
First: We need to create a safe space where people can talk about sexuality. In her book Our Tribe, Reverend Nancy Wilson talked about how, whenever representatives of the Metropolitan Community Church would attend meetings of the National Council of Churches, they would become impromptu counselors on sexuality and relationships, often having NCC delegates and staff knocking on their hotel room doors in the middle of the night, painfully in need of someone to talk to. Set aside the presumption that openly gay or lesbian people are somehow instant experts on sex. Why would people, many of them trained clergy and pastoral counselors themselves, turn to relative strangers in the middle of the night for advice and information on sex? Could it be that their own churches have failed to provide a safe space to ask and answer these questions? And when turning the lens on our own congregation and movement, to what extent do we provide sanctuary in this area of our lives, not only as a physical space of refuge, but a continuing process of reconciliation and renewal?
Second: We need to rethink what we mean by “sex.” We often confine sex to engaging in intercourse, or some form of genital contact. But what of our hands, our eyes, our mouths, our entire bodies? What of our thoughts and feelings and sensations? By confining the erotic to the mere genital, how much do we disembody sexuality from the rest of our selves, and reduce sex to a mere “thing” that we do? Consider how we express this in our language – how we talk about “having sex” with someone, instead of being sexual – and how your very thoughts and feelings might change if you likewise made that change in phrasing.
Third: We need to rethink the prerequisites for relating sexually with another. By this, I certainly do not mean that we should divorce the erotic from the emotional. On the contrary, I believe our world would be a better place if we engaged in more emotional investment – more caring, more consideration, more respect, more passion – in all we do. What I do question is the insistence that sexual expression requires such a highly idealized level of emotional commitment between partners. Mutual respect, mutual affection and mutual joy – absolutely! But why demand perfection, and then make people feel like failures when they can’t achieve it?
The fourth challenge I wish to offer is perhaps the most daunting: We need to continually question our own individual sexualities. In our effort to be an inclusive community, our acronym of sexual identities has increasingly expanded, and includes a “Q” for “questioning.” But, what if we were, all of us, always questioning, and in the process of doing so, always growing, changing, exploring and discovering?
I was fortunate to have parents who taught me very early about gays and lesbians, and in a nonjudgmental manner. As a teenager, I decided to take the step of deliberately questioning my own sexual orientation, even though I felt quite certain about it. I emerged still identifying as a heterosexual male, but with a deeper appreciation of the difficult process of coming out, and a healthier attitude towards gender roles and gender identity – that one needn’t be “macho” to be masculine.
What I regret is that I did not take this process even further, along other dimensions of sexuality, daring to explore the unconventional side of Eros until much later in life. Now that I have – and continue to do so -- I feel more whole, my sexuality more integrated in all aspects of my humanity, a part of me instead of apart from me. I have a greater appreciation for both the diversity and the unity of Eros, that our different sexualities cannot be so easily boxed into discreet categories, but fall along a continuum of possibilities. Most important, I have come to transcend merely thinking and believing at an intellectual level, to feel and know more profoundly through my physical, emotional and spiritual experiences of the erotic.
And so I stand before you, an example of the metanoia – that state of being transformed in the renewal of one’s mind – that can come from an authentic integration of sexuality and spirituality. My journey is certainly not complete, and it is one which humbles me. But with great challenges come great rewards, and if we are to help heal the wounds of the world, let us start with ourselves.
Jesus Christ. The Buddha. The Prophet Mohammed. Lao Tzu.
What do you think of when you hear these names? Their spiritual teachings? The examples of their lives? I’ll wager that the last thing you think about is their lives as sexual human beings, with desires and passions like our own.
This is just one example of how our culture – even in so-called liberal quarters – persists in dividing sexuality and spirituality from one another. Eros, as passionate and primal love, was demoted by early Christian theologians who claimed that the “higher” spiritual love of agape was the ideal to which all people should aspire. In fact, this so-called split between physical passion and spiritual love owes more to the influence of Manichean and Stoic dualism on the thought of Augustine and other church fathers, and ignores how the Bible not only includes the Song of Solomon, but in many places uses the terms agape and eros interchangeably.
Granted, we have come a long way since then, both in theory and in practice. There is the fact that I can stand here and deliver this homily, in one of many churches which welcome people of all sexual and gender identities. Then there is our denomination’s shared work with the United Church of Christ in creating and presenting one of the most widely praised sexuality education series, “Our Whole Lives.” But it’s hard to overcome centuries of anti-sex dualism. Ours is still a rarified atmosphere here at Arlington Street Church, and much of the surrounding American culture would prefer not to talk seriously about sexuality, or to do so in embarrassed, even shameful whispers. Even supposedly progressive and enlightened individuals can be, and often are, reticent to discuss and come to terms with various aspects of human sexual expression.
This is the challenge to progressive spiritual communities such as ours. If sexuality is as important an aspect of our being as any other, then is it not as much spiritual as anything else? If it is a source of joy, pleasure and connection, then should we not then see it as a means by which we may embody the Divine within and amongst ourselves? And if we wish, in the words of lesbian feminist theologian Virginia Ramey Mollenkott, to reclaim Eros as a spiritual urge, then should we not dare to rethink the very presumptions by which we view the myriad ways that we and our fellow human beings express and connect through sexuality?
First: We need to create a safe space where people can talk about sexuality. In her book Our Tribe, Reverend Nancy Wilson talked about how, whenever representatives of the Metropolitan Community Church would attend meetings of the National Council of Churches, they would become impromptu counselors on sexuality and relationships, often having NCC delegates and staff knocking on their hotel room doors in the middle of the night, painfully in need of someone to talk to. Set aside the presumption that openly gay or lesbian people are somehow instant experts on sex. Why would people, many of them trained clergy and pastoral counselors themselves, turn to relative strangers in the middle of the night for advice and information on sex? Could it be that their own churches have failed to provide a safe space to ask and answer these questions? And when turning the lens on our own congregation and movement, to what extent do we provide sanctuary in this area of our lives, not only as a physical space of refuge, but a continuing process of reconciliation and renewal?
Second: We need to rethink what we mean by “sex.” We often confine sex to engaging in intercourse, or some form of genital contact. But what of our hands, our eyes, our mouths, our entire bodies? What of our thoughts and feelings and sensations? By confining the erotic to the mere genital, how much do we disembody sexuality from the rest of our selves, and reduce sex to a mere “thing” that we do? Consider how we express this in our language – how we talk about “having sex” with someone, instead of being sexual – and how your very thoughts and feelings might change if you likewise made that change in phrasing.
Third: We need to rethink the prerequisites for relating sexually with another. By this, I certainly do not mean that we should divorce the erotic from the emotional. On the contrary, I believe our world would be a better place if we engaged in more emotional investment – more caring, more consideration, more respect, more passion – in all we do. What I do question is the insistence that sexual expression requires such a highly idealized level of emotional commitment between partners. Mutual respect, mutual affection and mutual joy – absolutely! But why demand perfection, and then make people feel like failures when they can’t achieve it?
The fourth challenge I wish to offer is perhaps the most daunting: We need to continually question our own individual sexualities. In our effort to be an inclusive community, our acronym of sexual identities has increasingly expanded, and includes a “Q” for “questioning.” But, what if we were, all of us, always questioning, and in the process of doing so, always growing, changing, exploring and discovering?
I was fortunate to have parents who taught me very early about gays and lesbians, and in a nonjudgmental manner. As a teenager, I decided to take the step of deliberately questioning my own sexual orientation, even though I felt quite certain about it. I emerged still identifying as a heterosexual male, but with a deeper appreciation of the difficult process of coming out, and a healthier attitude towards gender roles and gender identity – that one needn’t be “macho” to be masculine.
What I regret is that I did not take this process even further, along other dimensions of sexuality, daring to explore the unconventional side of Eros until much later in life. Now that I have – and continue to do so -- I feel more whole, my sexuality more integrated in all aspects of my humanity, a part of me instead of apart from me. I have a greater appreciation for both the diversity and the unity of Eros, that our different sexualities cannot be so easily boxed into discreet categories, but fall along a continuum of possibilities. Most important, I have come to transcend merely thinking and believing at an intellectual level, to feel and know more profoundly through my physical, emotional and spiritual experiences of the erotic.
And so I stand before you, an example of the metanoia – that state of being transformed in the renewal of one’s mind – that can come from an authentic integration of sexuality and spirituality. My journey is certainly not complete, and it is one which humbles me. But with great challenges come great rewards, and if we are to help heal the wounds of the world, let us start with ourselves.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Vexed About Viagra
Every time I see a commercial for Viagra (sildenafil citrate) or other "erectile dysfunction" medications, I grumble. It's not just the side effects and drug interactions, but how the "quick fix" promised by these medications have set back men's sexual health.
Before Pfizer put Viagra on the market, doctors began treatment for erectile dysfunction by determining the cause -- psychological, physiological, or a mix of the two. Often the most common causes are (a) performance anxiety, (b) substance abuse including nicotine, (b) other lifestyle issues such as diet or stress, or (c) diseases affecting blood flow or the nervous system. Since most of these cause being treatable, that means that lots of cases of erectile dysfunction can be successfully treated, and even cured, without the need for special medications. One physician I'm acquainted with informed me that the top three prescriptions he'd give for erectile dysfunction were aerobic exercise, cut back on booze, and quit smoking.
Viagra originally was being developed as a possible treatment for high blood pressure and angina. Wasn't successful for that, but it was found to help men obtain and maintain erections where other treatments had not worked, due to irreversible nerve or blood vessel damage. Prior to that, there weren't many options for such cases. So, given the choice between having an implant put in surgically, or simply taking a pill ... well, you get the idea.
Problem is that Viagra became so successful -- especially with Pfizer's marketing campaign -- that pretty soon it became the treatment of choice. But what about the other treatment options? Well, why bother with changing your lifestyle or treating other underlying causes, when all you have to do is pop a pill? And with the Internet providing Viagra from overseas, without a prescription, why bother even seeing a doctor?
So you can see why I grumble. Too many men are getting these medications, without regard for what's causing their problems in the first place -- kind of like treating every overweight person with diet pills. A good parallel, hm?
The more I read about erectile dysfunction, the more I see it as a symptom more than as a disease unto itself. Likewise it seems this rush to treat so many of our problems with a quick fix -- whether in pill form or some other manifestation -- is part of a larger spiritual problem. We live in a consumer culture which tells us in so many ways that all our troubles can be solved by just buying the right kind of stuff.
Even religious leaders have fallen prey to this idolatry. How many ministries offer "free gifts" in exchange for a donation -- essentially selling stuff to raise money? How many "abstinence-only" programs have been packaged and marketed to schools nationwide, promising a quick fix to the problems of teen pregnancy and STDs? How many congregations focus on "growth plans" like they were a business needing to recruit new customers?
And how strange that both sexuality and spirituality are linked to something priceless which our world needs so much: Love. Think of the world we could create if we closed our wallets and purses, and opened our hearts and minds.
Before Pfizer put Viagra on the market, doctors began treatment for erectile dysfunction by determining the cause -- psychological, physiological, or a mix of the two. Often the most common causes are (a) performance anxiety, (b) substance abuse including nicotine, (b) other lifestyle issues such as diet or stress, or (c) diseases affecting blood flow or the nervous system. Since most of these cause being treatable, that means that lots of cases of erectile dysfunction can be successfully treated, and even cured, without the need for special medications. One physician I'm acquainted with informed me that the top three prescriptions he'd give for erectile dysfunction were aerobic exercise, cut back on booze, and quit smoking.
Viagra originally was being developed as a possible treatment for high blood pressure and angina. Wasn't successful for that, but it was found to help men obtain and maintain erections where other treatments had not worked, due to irreversible nerve or blood vessel damage. Prior to that, there weren't many options for such cases. So, given the choice between having an implant put in surgically, or simply taking a pill ... well, you get the idea.
Problem is that Viagra became so successful -- especially with Pfizer's marketing campaign -- that pretty soon it became the treatment of choice. But what about the other treatment options? Well, why bother with changing your lifestyle or treating other underlying causes, when all you have to do is pop a pill? And with the Internet providing Viagra from overseas, without a prescription, why bother even seeing a doctor?
So you can see why I grumble. Too many men are getting these medications, without regard for what's causing their problems in the first place -- kind of like treating every overweight person with diet pills. A good parallel, hm?
The more I read about erectile dysfunction, the more I see it as a symptom more than as a disease unto itself. Likewise it seems this rush to treat so many of our problems with a quick fix -- whether in pill form or some other manifestation -- is part of a larger spiritual problem. We live in a consumer culture which tells us in so many ways that all our troubles can be solved by just buying the right kind of stuff.
Even religious leaders have fallen prey to this idolatry. How many ministries offer "free gifts" in exchange for a donation -- essentially selling stuff to raise money? How many "abstinence-only" programs have been packaged and marketed to schools nationwide, promising a quick fix to the problems of teen pregnancy and STDs? How many congregations focus on "growth plans" like they were a business needing to recruit new customers?
And how strange that both sexuality and spirituality are linked to something priceless which our world needs so much: Love. Think of the world we could create if we closed our wallets and purses, and opened our hearts and minds.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
For UUA President ...
Well, the campaign for UUA President is well under way, with two excellent candidates in the field -- Reverend Peter Morales, senior minister of Jefferson Unitarian Church in Colorado, and Reverend Laurel Hallman, senior minister at the First Unitarian Church of Dallas, Texas. Their websites are chock full of endorsements from UUs all over the country.
There's something about such "full-on" campaigns which bring out the skeptic in me. Both candidates seem well qualified and committed to the growth of our congregations and denomination. But I'm also committed to more openness and understanding of sexuality issues in both the UUA and the larger society, believing that a faith such as ours has both something to offer to sexual minorities of all kinds, and much to gain from openly welcoming them.
So, with that in mind, I've sent each candidate the following email:
Dear Reverend __________,
I am a UU lay leader at Arlington Street Church in Boston, and specifically concerned with sexuality issues from a progressive faith perspective. In considering whether to endorse a candidate for UUA President, I would like to understand better your perspective on this important area of ministry.
Unitarian Universalists have often spoken and acted prophetically on issues of sexuality and intimate relationships. We have defended reproductive choice, developed and provided comprehensive sexuality education programs for our youth, opened our doors to BGLTQ people, and now continue to stand on the side of marriage equality.
1) Please finish this sentence: “I believe the next phase of our witness in this area will be __________.”
2) Our work on sexuality issues has often been seen as controversial, even by people within the UUA. How would you view and deal with such controversy?
3) Other than gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender individuals, what other sexual and relational minorities are you aware of? How do you thing UUs should minister to them?
Thank you for taking the time to consider these questions, and I look forward to your response.
Sincerely,
Desmond Ravenstone
We'll see what they have to say...
There's something about such "full-on" campaigns which bring out the skeptic in me. Both candidates seem well qualified and committed to the growth of our congregations and denomination. But I'm also committed to more openness and understanding of sexuality issues in both the UUA and the larger society, believing that a faith such as ours has both something to offer to sexual minorities of all kinds, and much to gain from openly welcoming them.
So, with that in mind, I've sent each candidate the following email:
Dear Reverend __________,
I am a UU lay leader at Arlington Street Church in Boston, and specifically concerned with sexuality issues from a progressive faith perspective. In considering whether to endorse a candidate for UUA President, I would like to understand better your perspective on this important area of ministry.
Unitarian Universalists have often spoken and acted prophetically on issues of sexuality and intimate relationships. We have defended reproductive choice, developed and provided comprehensive sexuality education programs for our youth, opened our doors to BGLTQ people, and now continue to stand on the side of marriage equality.
1) Please finish this sentence: “I believe the next phase of our witness in this area will be __________.”
2) Our work on sexuality issues has often been seen as controversial, even by people within the UUA. How would you view and deal with such controversy?
3) Other than gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender individuals, what other sexual and relational minorities are you aware of? How do you thing UUs should minister to them?
Thank you for taking the time to consider these questions, and I look forward to your response.
Sincerely,
Desmond Ravenstone
We'll see what they have to say...
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Is Kink Going Mainstream?
Often when BDSM is portrayed on the Fox Network -- whether a series episode or a news note -- its with heavy doses of sensationalism, titillation and mythology. Well, if the latest column from their resident sex & advice columnist is any indication, then the times they are a-changin' ... or are they?
To be fair, Yvonne Fulbright is a bona fide Ph.D. and certified sex educator with AASECT, which has long promoted greater awareness and acceptance of consensual kink. And compare how many people will see her web column versus the stuff Fox puts on all of its media outlets.
Then again, there have been more enlightened and positive portrayals of BDSM out there. Lady Heather has been a favorite recurring character on CSI, not least of which because she is more complex and realistic than many portrayals of kinksters in the media. More and more media sexperts praise and even recommend mild forms of kinky play like simple bondage and erotic role-play.
Yet all of this is still mixed with an overwhelmingly negative caricature of the BDSM world. Kink is seamy at least, downright dangerous at most, and kinky people must have something "wrong with them". A lot like portrayals of LGBT people in decades past (and still, to some extent). Not to mention sex workers, swingers, polyamorous people, and so forth.
As much as we can try to dispel the myths, perhaps it is time we faced an awful truth. Perhaps the reason we often see sexual outsiders in such negative and distorted ways, is that our society's view of sexuality in general is negative and distorted.
Look at the other end of the extreme -- the "abstinence-only" programs put forward as "education" in so many schools. They are laden with misinformation and stereotypes about sexual health and gender roles, and all slanted to perpetuate the view that sex is dangerous unless contained. That's why I refuse to call it "education", because they are more about promoting ignorance through fear.
Dr. Fulbright's column is a step in the right direction -- a small step. We all need to take a bigger one, to go outside of our comfort zones and actively question what we've passively learned.
To be fair, Yvonne Fulbright is a bona fide Ph.D. and certified sex educator with AASECT, which has long promoted greater awareness and acceptance of consensual kink. And compare how many people will see her web column versus the stuff Fox puts on all of its media outlets.
Then again, there have been more enlightened and positive portrayals of BDSM out there. Lady Heather has been a favorite recurring character on CSI, not least of which because she is more complex and realistic than many portrayals of kinksters in the media. More and more media sexperts praise and even recommend mild forms of kinky play like simple bondage and erotic role-play.
Yet all of this is still mixed with an overwhelmingly negative caricature of the BDSM world. Kink is seamy at least, downright dangerous at most, and kinky people must have something "wrong with them". A lot like portrayals of LGBT people in decades past (and still, to some extent). Not to mention sex workers, swingers, polyamorous people, and so forth.
As much as we can try to dispel the myths, perhaps it is time we faced an awful truth. Perhaps the reason we often see sexual outsiders in such negative and distorted ways, is that our society's view of sexuality in general is negative and distorted.
Look at the other end of the extreme -- the "abstinence-only" programs put forward as "education" in so many schools. They are laden with misinformation and stereotypes about sexual health and gender roles, and all slanted to perpetuate the view that sex is dangerous unless contained. That's why I refuse to call it "education", because they are more about promoting ignorance through fear.
Dr. Fulbright's column is a step in the right direction -- a small step. We all need to take a bigger one, to go outside of our comfort zones and actively question what we've passively learned.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Pushing for Real Sex Education: Let's Not Blow It, Folks
When last I checked the website of the Unitarian Universalist Association, I noticed this newsnote about our movement's role in training young people and their allies to be effective advocates for comprehensive sexuality education.
"Fantastic!" I'm thinking. "Maybe they can take this training from three dozen people at one national meeting, to thousands of people in scores of grassroots meetings all over the country."
One can only hope...
When it comes to educating teens and children about sex, I'm very much with other progressives about giving young people -- all people, in fact -- completely accurate information and critical thinking skills so they can make choices. But when it comes to the nuts and bolts of it, that's when I raise some questions.
Hence my observation above. We tend to focus a great deal of our efforts at the Federal level, when it's the local and state levels where those decisions are made. How do you think the Religious Right succeeded in pushing their "abstinence-only" programs? They worked from the grassroots up, and continue to push from that direction.
Not to mention the fact that so many evangelical and fundamentalist churches have been pushing their own indoctrination programs, up to and including purity pledges. So why can't our churches do something? We already have a highly praised sex-ed program, Our Whole Lives -- why not train more and more folks to teach them, and have classes in our congregations open to all?
We also focus on sex education for young people. News flash, folks -- there are lots of adults out there who need sex-ed, too! "Abstinence-only" has been around for a long time, and there are already a goodly number of people who have grown up sexually illiterate, and who are suffering as a result. Just look at the recent boon in "Christian sex therapy" -- the chickens have come home to roost, and it will take considerable time and effort to clean up the mess.
Don't get me wrong, I'm all for the efforts which are going on now, with Obama and his crew behind us. But I hope we won't stop there. I hope we'll have the vision and commitment to take this effort as far as it can go.
"Fantastic!" I'm thinking. "Maybe they can take this training from three dozen people at one national meeting, to thousands of people in scores of grassroots meetings all over the country."
One can only hope...
When it comes to educating teens and children about sex, I'm very much with other progressives about giving young people -- all people, in fact -- completely accurate information and critical thinking skills so they can make choices. But when it comes to the nuts and bolts of it, that's when I raise some questions.
Hence my observation above. We tend to focus a great deal of our efforts at the Federal level, when it's the local and state levels where those decisions are made. How do you think the Religious Right succeeded in pushing their "abstinence-only" programs? They worked from the grassroots up, and continue to push from that direction.
Not to mention the fact that so many evangelical and fundamentalist churches have been pushing their own indoctrination programs, up to and including purity pledges. So why can't our churches do something? We already have a highly praised sex-ed program, Our Whole Lives -- why not train more and more folks to teach them, and have classes in our congregations open to all?
We also focus on sex education for young people. News flash, folks -- there are lots of adults out there who need sex-ed, too! "Abstinence-only" has been around for a long time, and there are already a goodly number of people who have grown up sexually illiterate, and who are suffering as a result. Just look at the recent boon in "Christian sex therapy" -- the chickens have come home to roost, and it will take considerable time and effort to clean up the mess.
Don't get me wrong, I'm all for the efforts which are going on now, with Obama and his crew behind us. But I hope we won't stop there. I hope we'll have the vision and commitment to take this effort as far as it can go.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Standing at the Intersection of Church and Kink
I go to church. I'm part of the team of laypeople that assists our minister with Sunday worship. I read and discuss sacred texts, theology, ethics and philosophy. I don't hold much to ancient creeds or dogmas, but I take to heart the affirmation of our church:
Love is the spirit of this congregation, and service is our gift. This is our great covenant: to dwell together in peace, to speak our truths in love, and to help one another.
I also crack a single-tail whip. I enjoy listening to a woman's darkest erotic fantasies, and bringing them to life when I can. "Safer sex" for me includes having a first aid kit and spare handcuff keys close by - and, more importantly, thorough discussions of what each of us desires and is willing to do well beforehand.
I go to church. I am kinky. And I see no conflict, no conundrum, no contradiction.
To date, those in my congregation who know about this aspect of my life have been supportive, some even willing to learn more. And I'm glad they are open to learning, understanding, and knowing more. Then again, our congregation is one of the more liberal ones within Unitarian Universalism. I'm sure in some other UU churches, I'd not be so welcome unless I ascribe to a strict "don't ask, don't tell" policy.
I've also found support within the local BDSM and polyamory communities. Great to have "one of their own" in a church, blazing the trail. But many are hesitant to follow, either to join a faith community, or to come out to their fellow believers.
So here I stand, between two communities, wanting to build a bridge between them. And folks on both sides asking me: Why? Why should UUs and other progressive faith communities open their doors to kinky people? (Yes, I'm lumping poly folk under the term "kinky," defining that word broadly to refer to erotic expression outside of the mainstream) Why should kinky people go knocking on their doors asking to be let in?
Let me try to answer those questions, as best I can, from my own experience...
We kinky folks have gifts to bring. Our experience and relationships have brought us awareness of just how complex our sexualities can be. We have learned that our wider culture's assumptions about intimate relationships don't always fit actual reality. We've had to learn and develop new rules for communicating, relating, discovering joy, and the bounds of trust. For us, diversity is not merely a binary, or even along a straight-line continuum. Diversity is a palette of varied colors and shades, and beauty is found by transcending boundaries, daring to color outside the lines.
Church folk could learn from kinky folk - and vice versa. Spirituality is not merely about individual transcendent experiences, but about being part of a wider community, and learning to live ethically within it. And while many would argue that we have "our own" community, at times it feels more like a self-imposed ghetto. Whenever any community becomes too insular, it can easily become stagnant. One sign of this is how we complain about our being oppressed, constantly speaking in the language of despair, defeat, anger and resentment. And we wonder why we make so little progress, why so few of us are willing to organize to turn things around? Such language does not inspire, empower or motivate people to take action. That requires a language of hope - the language I hear consistently within my church, and the gift that progressive people of faith have to offer.
I go to church, a kinky fellow who dwells in peace with vanilla people, each learning from one another, growing together, and willing to help one another. Join me - our door is always open!
[Originally posted September 15, 2007 on Myspace]
Love is the spirit of this congregation, and service is our gift. This is our great covenant: to dwell together in peace, to speak our truths in love, and to help one another.
I also crack a single-tail whip. I enjoy listening to a woman's darkest erotic fantasies, and bringing them to life when I can. "Safer sex" for me includes having a first aid kit and spare handcuff keys close by - and, more importantly, thorough discussions of what each of us desires and is willing to do well beforehand.
I go to church. I am kinky. And I see no conflict, no conundrum, no contradiction.
To date, those in my congregation who know about this aspect of my life have been supportive, some even willing to learn more. And I'm glad they are open to learning, understanding, and knowing more. Then again, our congregation is one of the more liberal ones within Unitarian Universalism. I'm sure in some other UU churches, I'd not be so welcome unless I ascribe to a strict "don't ask, don't tell" policy.
I've also found support within the local BDSM and polyamory communities. Great to have "one of their own" in a church, blazing the trail. But many are hesitant to follow, either to join a faith community, or to come out to their fellow believers.
So here I stand, between two communities, wanting to build a bridge between them. And folks on both sides asking me: Why? Why should UUs and other progressive faith communities open their doors to kinky people? (Yes, I'm lumping poly folk under the term "kinky," defining that word broadly to refer to erotic expression outside of the mainstream) Why should kinky people go knocking on their doors asking to be let in?
Let me try to answer those questions, as best I can, from my own experience...
We kinky folks have gifts to bring. Our experience and relationships have brought us awareness of just how complex our sexualities can be. We have learned that our wider culture's assumptions about intimate relationships don't always fit actual reality. We've had to learn and develop new rules for communicating, relating, discovering joy, and the bounds of trust. For us, diversity is not merely a binary, or even along a straight-line continuum. Diversity is a palette of varied colors and shades, and beauty is found by transcending boundaries, daring to color outside the lines.
Church folk could learn from kinky folk - and vice versa. Spirituality is not merely about individual transcendent experiences, but about being part of a wider community, and learning to live ethically within it. And while many would argue that we have "our own" community, at times it feels more like a self-imposed ghetto. Whenever any community becomes too insular, it can easily become stagnant. One sign of this is how we complain about our being oppressed, constantly speaking in the language of despair, defeat, anger and resentment. And we wonder why we make so little progress, why so few of us are willing to organize to turn things around? Such language does not inspire, empower or motivate people to take action. That requires a language of hope - the language I hear consistently within my church, and the gift that progressive people of faith have to offer.
I go to church, a kinky fellow who dwells in peace with vanilla people, each learning from one another, growing together, and willing to help one another. Join me - our door is always open!
[Originally posted September 15, 2007 on Myspace]
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