The Question Anti-Prostitution Zealots Refuse to Answer

Like any well-organized endeavor, the movement seeking to do away with commercial sex has worked hard to come up with responses to various questions. When asked about people who say they do sex work willingly and happily, they will either accuse them of being brainwashed or dismiss them as "not representative". When called to account for distorting or fabricating evidence, they insist there's a "greater truth" that needs to be heard.

But there's one question I've never heard any prohibitionist address, even when they've been asked directly: What about the repeated abuse of sex workers by police?

As much as these so-called "abolitionists" keep trying to pin the blame on clients and people inside the industry, sex workers will tell you that they have more to fear from law enforcement – not just being arrested, but systematic harassment, assault, and exploitation. Elizabeth Nolan Brown of Reason magazine published a summary of almost forty cases of police sexual misconduct in the course of 2014 and 2015. Brown's report is just the tip of the iceberg. There's also this Associated Press analysis that almost one thousand law enforcement officers nationwide lost their badges over a five-year period over sexual misconduct, with one-third of those involving people under eighteen. From Oakland to Baltimore, various public and private sources confirm what sex workers have been saying for years about cops robbing, raping and even pimping them out. And it's not just in the United States. This report from Great Britain shows that police in England and Wales have been sexually assaulting prostitutes and other vulnerable women there as well.

Police in Sweden and Norway – so admired by prohibitionists for their efforts to "crush the sex trade" by "ending demand" – have chosen a different tactic. They bully the sex workers' landlords, threatening to arrest them for pimping or brothel-keeping, unless they evict the women. Amnesty International's report shared this particularly disturbing story from Mercy, a Nigerian-born sex worker living and working in Oslo:

A little guy came to the house with a knife. I answered the door. There were nine of us in the house. He threatened us with a knife and robbed our money and phones… He forced us to have sex with him. The police took two or three hours to come. They took us all to hospital and got us a hotel for two nights. Later, we went back to the house and, two days later, the landlord threw us out ... The police put pressure on the landlord. She gave us half a day to get out ... I had to wander around Oslo for hours with my bags until I found somewhere to stay.

It's not just that prohibitionists fail to check their facts. They are failing to check their privilege. White and affluent Americans tend to view police as public servants dedicated to keeping their communities safe, with abuses dismissed as individual aberrations. But among marginalized communities, police are seen as an occupying army sent to impose social control, not just with guns and handcuffs, but a variety of weapons and tools, both legal and extra-legal. Now, take a look at the list of major prohibitionist leaders – overwhelmingly white and wealthy. Privilege lays the foundation for denial, and the interdependence of the movement with law enforcement continue to pile upon it.

History, however, shows that such piles of denial inevitably collapse. That happened almost a century ago, when the American experiment with banning alcohol was abandoned as a failure. Despite repeated claims by advocates that it would lead to significant reductions in crime, the Prohibition Era actually saw criminal activity increase – including rampant bribery and corruption of police and public officials. The temperance movement, now dwindled to irrelevance, has paid the price for their denial. And I have no doubt that this prohibitionist movement will encounter the same fate as more people become aware of the facts.

SWERFs and Other True Believers

Benjamin L. Corey commented in a recent post how the growing movement against human trafficking had morphed into an "anti-sex-industry" movement. My own observation is that it has become hijacked by a longstanding "sexual purity" movement, with roots going to Anthony Comstock and the more conservative elements of first-wave feminism. And like any mass movement, as Eric Hoffer observed, its members are willing to sacrifice critical thought in the name of a holy cause.

This movement's basic approach follows that of the religious revivalists from which it originally emerged. First, there is the diagnosis of some great world-disease preventing all of us from achieving some beatific or utopian state. From this, we deduce its presence in each person in the form of an individual infection, requiring radical treatment and cure. But it doesn't stop there, for now the convalescing individual must be recruited into expansion of the cure, continuing the cycle until the world itself is rid of the disease. This was also the logic behind the temperance movement, which diagnosed alcohol as the world-disease and prohibition as its ultimate cure.

The contemporary "purity" movement is sustained by conservative evangelical Christians and sex-worker-excluding radical feminists (SWERFs), both of whom exhibit their own variations on this foundational template. The evangelical will see Satan, sin, salvation and evangelism as the pillars of their mission; the SWERF will point to patriarchy, false consciousness, politicization and action; but both essentially crave the same goals, use similar techniques, and see symptoms of sickness in various forms of sexual nonconformity.

This purity movement also exhibits three paradoxical approaches to achieve its goals. Its leaders present moral absolutes, yet are willing to resort to intellectual dishonesty by twisting the facts to suit their purposes. Both religionist and SWERFs often denigrate science and reason as antithetical to their views, while also attempting to present elements of their message in the guise of science and reason. Lastly, their desire to impose a radical cure, such as eradicating prostitution, leads to methods that cause even greater harm than the supposed sickness, in this case robbing women of both agency and self-sufficiency.

As Hoffer observed, it is no surprise that such "true believers" come mainly from privileged backgrounds. While the poor and marginalized struggled to survive, the privileged struggle with boredom and lack of purpose. The current anti-prostitution movement has given many well-to-do white women the promise of helping others by eradicating what they perceive as a great evil. But that promise is an overly simplistic emotional appeal that ignores evidence and complex realities, and rejects practical means for reducing harm and respecting women's choices. It is indeed not only paternalistic, but anti-feminist, precisely because it leads privileged women to "other" marginalized ones. It is a faulty diagnosis, and a reckless course of treatment.

I would contend that the real disease to which we should devote our energies is the pervasive inequity made manifest in our economic, political, social, cultural and erotic realities. Instead of depriving sex workers of both income and safety, let's give them the space to unleash their power and help transform the world. Liberation is not to be imposed, nor is it achieved by ignoring the voices and experiences of those who seek it. Often the best way for the privileged to aid in the liberation of others is to get out of their way and let them take the lead. That, I believe, is the case here.

The Case for Decriminalizing Pimping

Recently, the UK Parliament's Home Affairs Select Committee issued a recommendation to decriminalize certain aspects of prostitution. While some sex worker rights organizations and activists hailed the move, others have expressed caution. Too often, those who have advocated the so-called "Swedish Model" claim that it "decriminalizes sex workers" while supposedly tackling "exploitation"; in reality, this regime is best described as asymmetrical criminalization, with its real-world results being disastrous for the very people supposedly being "helped" by this approach. Is it any wonder that Norway's government actually stated in a report that the hardships meted upon sex workers in that country was considered a sign of success?

It thus bears repeating that what the vast majority of sex workers want is full decriminalization of their work, including their relationships with third parties. In response, those who wish to keep or expand criminal prohibitions drag out the tired trope of the "abusive pimp" – now labeled a "sex trafficker" – using manipulation and coercion to "lure" and "enslave" young girls into the trade. Even so-called moderates who support half-way measures for making prostitution legal wind up swallowing this blue pill; yes, they say, let people sell sex if they want, but let's keep the ban on those evil pimps.

There are two major problems with this, rooted in the dichotomous definitions given to the word pimp. The first is that the best research actually shows that the villainous stereotype is such an anomaly that some sex workers consider it a myth. A goodly percentage of escorts are "independents" who operate as sole proprietors; in fact, many of these independent escorts are employers themselves, retaining the assistance of others for everything from website design to office administration to transportation and security.

This leads into the second problem with regard to anti-pimping laws. While the public has been given a narrow and loaded stereotypical definition, the law defines the act more broadly as deriving financial benefit from the prostitution of another. As a result, those employed by independent escorts are deemed to be "exploiting" them, simply because of the way the law is worded. Indeed, this overly sweeping definition may also be applied to anyone who receives any significant funds from sex workers, from those who rent or sublet apartments, to their children or other relatives. If we really wanted to take this to the extreme, we could consider any and all transactions done with "the profits of prostitution" to make just about everyone a pimp – newsstands, coffee shops, dry cleaners, even the neighbor holding a yard sale.

I'm sure those seeking a comfortable middle ground would advocate for a "reformed" anti-pimping law, where the focus is on abuse rather than mere financial gain. This raises the question of what constitutes abuse, and why new laws need to be created when current laws already address such problems. Using violence? We have laws against assault and battery. Taking money from someone who works for you? Laws against theft, and labor protection laws, also provide for that. Turf wars between pimps? Assuming this part of the myth is also true, that would fall under existing racketeering and anti-trust laws. Et cetera, et cetera. If the existence of these laws proves anything, it is that just about every business has some history of exploitative outliers. If the sex industry has more than its fair share, it seems more because of the stigma and lack of transparency which comes from continued criminalization.

Like any group of service providers, prostitutes don't always work in isolation, even when they do so as sole proprietors. They depend upon various support services, as well as supporting both biological and chosen family members. Decriminalizing sex workers while criminalizing those connected to them in this way is just as asymmetrically unworkable as the criminalization of their clientele. And before we attach the stigmatized label of "pimp" to those so connected, let's remember how deep those connections may run – even to ourselves.

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.

Sermon: Tending the Sacred Fire of Eros

Sermon delivered May 3rd, 2015 at First Parish in Cambridge, Massachusetts

As we move towards summer, and life and love abound, so we kindle the fires of Beltane, spreading warmth and light to all.

Fire is a powerful and primal symbol, often evoked to represent both spiritual energy and sexual passion, two vital elements of human experience often seen as diametrically opposed to one another.

But what if religion and sexuality are not so opposed? What if we heeded the words of Virginia Ramey Mollenkott, and sought to reclaim Eros as a spiritual urge?

It seems fitting that I propose this here, in a Unitarian Universalist church, during the pagan festival of Beltane. Both UUs and contemporary pagans are known for an openness to new ideas, and for challenging conventional wisdom. The Wiccan Rede prescribes: “An it harm none, do what ye will”; while the Charge of the Goddess proclaims: “Behold, all acts of love and pleasure are my rituals.” Yet even heathens and heretics may find ourselves struggling to live up to our own hopeful ideals and vision. Even today, for example, some pagans insist on attributing special significance in their rituals to male and female identities, unaware how they exclude people who don’t fit into the gender binary.

This is but one example of the dualistic mentality we must challenge if we are to embrace the spiritual significance of sexuality. From the earliest days of European civilization, the division of reality into polarized categories – often with one category deemed “superior” to another – is a construction we find ingrained in our thinking and behavior to this very day. Other examples of this hierarchical dualism, specific to our religious traditions, include: God versus Satan, angels versus demons, Heaven versus Hell, saved versus damned, saint versus sinner, orthodox versus heretic, and, of course, spirit versus flesh.

This carries over into our view of sexuality, gender and relationships: male over female, procreation over pleasure, heterosexual monogamous marriage over every other form of loving relationship. Even love itself is dissected and sorted, with a purely “spiritual” agape on top, and eros relegated to the bottom. And while most are quick to blame European Christendom, in fact the roots for this dualism may be found in the ancient cultures of Greece and Rome, and other religious movements like Manicheanism, all of which influenced prominent theologians like Augustine. You may remember the famous prayer attributed to him: “God grant me chastity and continence, but not yet!”

How, then, do we overcome this construct of dualism, and learn to embrace more fully the diversity of our sexualities, gender identities and relationship patterns – queer and straight, monogamous and polyamorous, vanilla and kinky, male, female, genderqueer, intersex, asexual, and more – in unity with the creative spirit of Eros? To meet this challenge, let me suggest that the principles and values of our Unitarian Universalist faith may guide us in this path of transformation.

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 of all kinds, 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 attempt 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 continue to 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 myriad ways of loving human relationships and erotic pleasure.

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 for people to 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, 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.

Beloved friends: As we celebrate Beltane, let us tend the sacred fire of Eros ... that its warmth may comfort us, that its light may guide us, that its energy may empower us to forge new ways of relating, and that we may – all of us – dance together in the circle of life. AMEN, ASHÉ & BLESSED BE

Thoughts on “50 Shades”

Anyone who’s kept track of my Facebook postings and comments, or talked to me either online or in person, would know that I’m not really a fan of 50 Shades of Grey. The writing is amateurish, the characters are as flat as the pages they’re printed on, and the representation of BDSM is atrocious. It’s because of that last part that I couldn’t get past the scene where Christian shows Ana his dungeon, then presents her with a detailed contract, all before learning (much to his apparent annoyance) that she’s still a virgin. Christian represents the kind of clueless jerk who gets thrown out of BDSM groups.

And yet … there’s no denying that this novel evokes something in people. Set aside for a moment that it’s sold over a hundred million copies worldwide. Groups like Black Rose and The Eulenspiegel Society have seen a marked increase in new members and workshop attendees. Sex educators who previously found their “Kink 101” class offerings had little interest suddenly found that renaming it under the “50 Shades” brand suddenly filled the room. Experts are talking about bondage, role-play and other kinks more openly – and more positively – than ever before.

And that’s just the book. Wait until the movie comes out in February.

Oh, that’s right – we don’t have to wait. There’s already talk about the trailer. Plus there are groups like Morality in Media, and its recent offshoot Pornography Harms, rushing to denounce the film even before they’ve seen it. Not surprising, as their principal ideologue Gail Dines is relentless in her defamatory attacks on BDSM. Come to think of it, Dines is so quick to condemn so many forms of sexual expression and desire, one has to wonder if there’s any she does approve of. But, I digress …

If history is any guide, including and especially the history of human sexual psychology, the motion picture version of this tale will be far greater than that of the written version. The book’s popularity became viral over the Internet. And as clips and still images from the movie are downloaded and shared, they are likely to awaken desires and fantasies in who knows how many more – including many in our UU congregations.

Kinksters are already responding to this. We recognize “50 Shades” as an imperfect vessel, much as the pulp fiction novels and exploitation films were for many gay men and lesbians pre-Stonewall. Neither ignoring its impact, nor lauding it as is, will serve us well – but other options exist. The question for this post, however, is what options make the most sense for Unitarian Universalists, with regard to both public witness and pastoral care.

Both kinksters and UUs affirm and value diversity, including how people find love and pleasure. Those of us drawn to those forms identified as “kinky” have cultivated means to fulfill such desires with full consent and minimal risk of harm. Yet as the actions and words of people like Professor Dines remind us, there are people who are quick to condemn without understanding. Given our principles and core values, and the lessons of history, which course makes sense for us? I would hope our principle of truth-seeking would lead us to engage in dialogue and cooperate with those seeking to educate and promote greater awareness, amongst ourselves and with the wider world.

The Lady Heather Paradox

The latest buzz in books these days is 50 Shades of Grey, the kinky romance by author E. L. James. Not only has it hit the New York Times best-seller list and garnered a movie deal, but it has provoked all sorts of discussion on television and the web. Why, so many pundits wonder, would so many women be attracted to a story of a young lady being drawn to a sadistic dominant?

Another question I’ve yet to see or hear being asked: Why is this news? Years before, the recurring character of Lady Heather presented BDSM with nuance and humanity to viewers of the hit series CSI. Around the same time, Maggie Gyllenhaal and James Spader starred in the film Secretary, where Gyllenhaal’s Lee Holloway finds fulfillment and love as the submissive of Spader’s E. Edward Grey. Then there’s Rihanna’s hit song “S&M”, and the questions and controversy surrounding it as young people played it on their iPods and cell phones.

Still, there remains a paradox. While BDSM and fetishism have become more visible in mainstream media, it has yet to lead to a corresponding level of genuine awareness. More vanilla folks know that we exist, but not much more about who we kinksters really are. And we kinksters still remain huddled underground, bemoaning laws and attitudes that can cost us our jobs, homes, families and freedom.

Some would say it’s because so many kinkster revel in being part of an “outlaw” culture – wanting neither approval nor acceptance. But the kink community is large and diverse, and a more sizable group would prefer simply to be left alone. The problem is that neither rebellion nor isolation encourages the kind of change that would allow any given subculture to continue unencumbered. Such a desired state requires a sufficient understanding within the mainstream culture, which in turn requires mindful engagement on both sides. Outright rebellion often provokes reaction, while secrecy tends to breed suspicion.

Of course, many folks in the kink community will make the argument that secrecy is necessary. Given the current state of affairs, coming out to the world is risky – but this feeds a vicious cycle, because so long as kinksters don’t come out, the current state of affairs will persist. So once again we are caught in the paradox of letting fictional characters like Lady Heather speak for us, with the hope that it will lead to change, yet still lamenting the lack of change.

Others would argue that we do indeed have eloquent spokespersons, and that they convey a great deal through the news media. But take a closer look at who usually winds up engaging the media about BDSM – it’s usually prodommes talking about their clients, not soccer moms talking about their lives. Granted, prodommes have considerable expertise, but there’s also the fact that they convey a stereotypical exotic image, and thus maintaining distance between kink and the mainstream. So we may celebrate magazines like Salon interviewing dominatrices about “kink entering the mainstream” as progress, but in the end the very image those dommes portray reinforces the predominant view of BDSM and our community – and back we are in our paradox.

I’m not expecting a slew of middle-class and blue-collar kinksters to suddenly appear on news programs. Breaking a cycle so deeply ingrained takes a great deal of time and effort. The question is where to begin, and the best suggestion I can think of is our own neighborhoods. Just as the GLBT community engaged people one-on-one and in small groups of everyday people, kinksters can find ways to engage vanilla folks about who we really are and what we’re really about. From there we can truly move forward – but only if we’re willing to make the effort.

"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?

Is He, Isn't He ... And Is It Our Right to Say?

Now that I've finished my sermon for next week, as well as a few other things, I can catch up on some writing...

Michele Bachmann and her husband Marcus have been getting considerable coverage lately regarding their shared views about homosexuality, and his clinic's use of questionable practices to "cure" people of same-sex attraction. At first, Marcus denied that he and his staff were engaging in "ex-gay therapy"; then when someone who went undercover revealed that they were indeed trying to "pray away the gay," Marcus attempted some flimsy damage control by saying they would only engage in such practices "at the client's discretion."

It's also been revealed that Bachmann's clinic, which presents itself as "distinctly Christian" and includes prayer as part of "therapy," was accepting Medicaid and other government funds to pay for the treatment of several clients. This from the husband of a Tea Party favorite who frequently denounces waste of taxpayer money -- and let's not forget how this violates the separation of church and state.

And then there's the question of how Marcus Bachmann got into this business in the first place. He claims to have a doctorate in clinical psychology from Union Graduate School -- except that the only Ph.D. that school offered was in interdisciplinary studies, before it was investigated by the Ohio Board of Regents and subsequently reorganized as The Union Institute and University, which did not offer a doctorate in psychology until 2001. Of course, that doesn't matter too much in Minnesota, one of three states where you don't need a license to practice in mental health services. Sure enough, none of Minnesota's three state boards dealing with mental health have Marcus registered with them.

It's perfectly justifiable to question the anti-gay views of Michele and Marcus, to uncover their lies and hypocrisy over how their clinic is run, and even to question Marcus Bachmann's credentials as a counselor. But what bothers me is how many LGBTQ and liberal/progressive activists pose the question of whether Marcus might be a self-loathing closeted gay man. Listen to his voice! Look at the way he moves! He must be! Right?

Hold on a second, folks. For years, advocates for the LGBTQ community have been pointing out that we shouldn't judge a person's sexual identity by stereotypes -- and now people are basing speculation about this man's orientation on those very same stereotypes. When right-wingers have tried to discredit certain progressive politicians as being gay, we've decried such smear tactics -- and now progressives are trying to do the same thing.

Now I'm all for revealing a person's hypocrisy, but you have to do so with clear evidence. Show me that Marcus has led a double life around his sexuality, and you've got something. But until you do, let the matter rest.

Even if someone had such evidence, I'd be hesitant to just throw it out there. I'm grateful to Virginia Ramey Mollenkott's insights into this topic, and I believe that more advocates for the LGBTQ community should take heed of her proposals. She believes that any person discovered to be hiding their sexual orientation, while acting publicly in a way which did harm to lesbigay people, should first be approached in private and given the chance to come clean. Only after a sincere and compassionate attempt to offer a path of reconciliation should that person's hypocrisy be revealed.

When I started this blog, I took Mollenkott's guidance to heart, as well as the loving spirit behind it. Early on, a rather mean-spirited fellow posted a comment alleging that a particular UU minister was kinky. His "evidence" was ludicrous, and his sole intent was to smear that minister as part of a personal vendetta, so I had no problem with deleting it. Even if he had clear evidence, and more lofty motivations, I still would not have outed a minister who had never done any harm to kinksters like myself.

So I'm not going to join in that part of the chorus. Lambaste him for misleading people, for taking taxpayer money in contradiction to his wife's ideology, and for referring to gay kids as "barbarians" -- but even if you have proof that he is actually gay, go to him first and give him fair warning. Whenever we condemn hypocrisy, let's not become hypocrites ourselves.

An Apology (Sort of) To the Family Research Council

Dear Tony Perkins:

I recently read your announcement demanding an apology from the Southern Policy Law Center for including your organization, the Family Research Council, in its latest list of "hate groups."

Granted, I'm not affiliated with them, so I cannot speak for them. But since I do support them, and since you would very likely include me as someone on "the Left" -- and, perhaps worse, the Religious Left -- then I might as well respond.

I'm sorry the SPLC saw fit to label your organization as a hate group. I'm sorry that they saw so much vitriol in your official publications, and so much effort made towards demonizing an entire group of Americans, that they were afraid for those Americans.

I'm sorry that they were alarmed about your opposition to efforts at ending bullying in public schools, solely because those programs merely mentioned that some people feel attraction and romantic love towards people of the same gender, or identify with a gender which doesn't fit with their biological sex.

I'm sorry that they are worried about the FRC advocating "criminal sanctions against homosexual behavior" being enshrined into law and enforced by police and prosecutors across the country. Forget the Declaration of Independence, the Bill of Rights, or the very idea that government shouldn't be intruding into people's private lives. Such basic rights shouldn't apply to those people, right?

I'm sorry that your view of morality is so narrow. You claim to root your positions in the "Judeo-Christian worldview." All well and good, but didn't the prophets call for justice and mercy? And didn't Jesus command that we should love our neighbor, and even our enemies? Didn't he also warn against casting judgment on others, and called on his disciples to serve the poor?

I'm sorry that you are so obsessed with other people's sexuality that you feel the need to raise and spend millions of dollars towards scapegoating them, when those millions could have been used towards, let's see, feeding the hungry.

I'm sorry that you feel the need to appeal to fear and and ignorance, instead of encouraging Christians and gays to come and reason together (Isaiah 1:18). I'm sorry that you feel so threatened by the pluralism of our society -- the very same pluralism which has allowed the religious liberty you enjoy -- that you believe you need to target outsiders for blame and shame, rather than make an effort to understand them.

I'm sorry the Family Research Council has been labeled a hate group. Perhaps now you could do something about it?

Kink Going Mainstream? Are We Forgetting Something?

Lately, I've seen other kinksters posting on Fetlife and other places "examples" of kink going "mainstream" - basically the use of BDSM and fetish imagery in otherwise vanilla media. A few have even argued that this is a "good thing" and that we shouldn't be so worried about reaching out to and educating vanilla folks.

I respectfully disagree.

First of all: Just because someone in mainstream media appropriates the imagery of a particular group of people, that doesn't necessarily mean that they fully comprehend what that means. One clip I saw, for example, were two soap opera characters in a steamy encounter, with the woman dressed like a dominatrix, handcuffing the guy and spouting aggressive dialogue about getting whatever she wants. No negotiation or assurance of safety ("Oh no, where'd I put the key?"). Just another stereotypical portrayal meant to titillate the average viewer.

And the biggest thing lost on folks - both the scriptwriters and actors, and the BDSM folks who might applaud it? That couple could get into trouble just for being kinky.

In many jurisdictions, consensual bondage and sadomasochism could get you arrested for assault and battery, domestic violence, false imprisonment and any other charges a cop can think of. Ridiculous as it may sound, laws can be and continue to be interpreted to make consensual yet unconventional eroticism a punishable offense.

Not to mention kinksters who have been fired from their jobs, evicted from their homes, expelled from otherwise liberal faith communities, even verbally and physically abused when outed as kinky.

I think it more accurate to say there is more awareness of kink than to say it's "going mainstream" in any real sense of the word. The GLBT community is much further along than we are, largely because of the efforts of educators and activists. Whether we want to become genuinely mainstream, or merely left alone, we can't rely on flawed and fleeting media images to do that for us. There's more to raising authentic awareness than that, and it requires the hard work of educating our vanilla neighbors.

Who Says It's Private?

The right to privacy has long been treasured in American political culture. We don’t want government to interfere in our personal lives, especially regarding sexuality, and we tend to be skeptical of other busybodies as well. It is a cornerstone for many of the advances in sexual justice and freedom, from reproductive rights to GLBT equality.

Privacy has also been invoked in a negative sense as well – to silence and constrain already marginalized groups. Because our culture deems sex “a private matter,” not only do we proscribe sexually explicit media to ridiculous extremes, but we still debate whether couples should be allowed to hold hands or exchange a kiss in public. More often than not, however, privacy is invoked as a reason for upholding double standards upon those less powerful. A woman can put up a picture of her beloved on her desk at work – but if that beloved is another woman, don’t be surprised if someone accuses her of being “militant” or “flaunting” about her sexuality. A spiritual community will encourage folks to come to events with their partners – but no more than one at a time. And no problem saying where you and your partner met – unless you happened to meet at a fetish-themed nightclub.

Granted, some people are just not ready to hear all of that. But there’s a big difference between admitting personal discomfort, and using it to declare an objective moral rule that certain “private” realities are permanently off limits. Many people see this as a form of rationalization, but I wonder if there’s something deeper at work. Western culture, and American culture especially, is one which discourages folks from admitting to weakness. Admitting personal discomfort with something can sound very much like a personal failing, as opposed to creating a moral proscription based on that discomfort.

Nor is it confined to outright conservatives. Many folks who are comfortable with GLBT friends, or who are queer themselves, may bristle at discussions of polyamory or kink. Often they make the distinction between “orientation” and “behavior” – who you’re drawn to, or what gender with which you identify, versus how many partners or what you choose to do with them. Are they forgetting that holding your beloved’s hand on the street, or displaying their picture in your cubicle or office, is also considered behavior – and also likely to be declared “off limits” by someone who takes offense? Should we not ask ourselves whether it is the behavior itself which makes us uncomfortable, or the reality which it represents?

The very meaning of privacy is the power of the individual to discern and decide which aspects of their lives should be free from intrusion, and from whom – to set a boundary, if you will, between what others can and cannot know about you. Respecting privacy is not merely about staying on your side of the boundary, but letting the other person determine who or what belongs on which side. Should the comfort level of others be a part of that decision? Of course - but not the only part, and certainly not when it threatens one's integrity, or otherwise damages souls or relationships. Boundaries ultimately need to be negotiated, in good faith among equals who are willing to learn and grow together.

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.

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.

Leather & Grace, Part II: Pushing Limits

This summer is my tenth anniversary when I first entered the realm of kink. I was having a summer fling with a wonderful young lady, when she asked if I would be willing to do some role-play. Not just any role-play, mind you. Dark, edgy, downright scary stuff. And it took quite a bit of convincing to get me there, and more work to process the intense emotional after-effects.

I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

BDSM is not easy. It takes learning not only various skills, but learning about oneself and the connection between what we do and the why behind it all. Still, there is a balance between allowing individuals to choose and affirm what speaks to them, and encouraging them to push their limits.

“Pushing limits” is a common phrase within the world of kink. Often it refers to a skilled top or dominant taking a bottom or submissive to the edge of where they want to go – their “limit” – and then carefully and skillfully “pushing” them just a little further. Yet it can also go the other way, just as my first experience pushed me past a limit I thought I’d never cross.

Limits are important for defining who we are, especially our desires and emotional needs. Yet they are not always so clear cut. We often speak in BDSM circles of “hard” and “soft” limits, and even so-called hard limits can be challenged in the right way. I remember hearing a woman describing her first experience with play piercing, which she had always feared because she expected it to be too painful for her to handle. When it was explained to her how it was actually done, and how the body typically reacted, she decided to try it under the guidance of a trusted and expert top. “Now,” she said, “I can’t get enough of it.”

Apply this ideal of pushing limits to spirituality and ethical thinking, and you have Unitarian Universalism at its best. Our whole history has been about pushing limits, from our early history of questioning Christian doctrines, to our evolution into a diverse and welcoming movement. Yet even with this history, we’re still human and too often fall short of that ideal. Where one limit has been pushed, another comes in its place.

An example of this is when, after describing myself as “heretical even by UU standards,” a young woman replied with wide eyes: “You mean … you’re a Republican?” Hilarious, yes, but what if a Republican or Libertarian who was attracted to our faith found herself surrounded by registered Democrats and Greens? What if a liberal Christian found that the only UU congregation in her area was overwhelmingly Humanist, Buddhist, Pagan, or a mixture thereof?

Such “what-if” scenarios have actually happened, and how we respond is the real test of our faith’s core values. And that includes those of us who engage in heretical forms of sexual expression, who not only push our own personal limits, but by our very existence challenge the assumption of how we may find joy and fulfillment in our relationships and erotic experiences.

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.

Core Values ... or Puritanical Legalism?

You'd have to be a hermit in the tundra to be unaware of how conservative Christians have upheld opposition to abortion, contraception, homosexuality and sex education other than "abstinence-only" as going against their beliefs. What you may not have heard is how it's been ratcheted up. These positions aren't just beliefs, or even "deeply-held religious beliefs" -- they are now deemed "core values."

So now we have a conservative Christian university student claiming a right to refuse to counsel openly gay clients because she claims it would contradict the "core values" of her faith.

On the flip side, a nun who approved an abortion to save a critically ill woman's life is not only fired from her post at Saint Joseph's Hospital and Medical Center in Phoenix but excommunicated from her church, because Bishop Thomas Olmstead apparently holds as a core value of Catholic faith that "the mother may in fact die along with her child."

When Jesus was asked: "What is the greatest commandment?" he did not talk about carrying pregnancies to term, rejecting anything outside of heterosexuality, or more generally talking about sexual purity. All of that was secondary. He answered the question about the greatest commandment -- the core value of his day -- thusly:

"You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind." This is the great and foremost commandment. The second is like it, "You shall love your neighbor s yourself."

Let me go further, and give an example of how Jesus put this into practice. That would be when a Roman centurion -- not just a gentile, but an active participant in the military occupation of Judea -- comes to him asking that he heal his servant, who is seriously ill. And not just any servant. In the extant Greek, the centurion describes him specifically as his pais and entimos duolos -- denoting not just any male slave but one obtained to share his bed as his lover.

What did Jesus do? Did he tell the centurion: "Sorry, but helping a gentile oppressor, and a homosexual to boot, goes against my core values"? No, he said very simply and clearly that he would go to the centurion's house to heal the young man. And when the centurion asserted his belief that Jesus had the power to heal without having to step into his house, Jesus praised him for his faith, and did so.

The very phrase core value depends on the concept that certain beliefs and principles are dependent upon others. Belief in prayer, for example, depends upon the belief that you are praying to some entity or power worthy of receiving those prayers. And the belief that one should help those in need regardless of their station in life depends in turn on the core values that each human being, created in the image of the Divine, is worthy of respect and love -- even a sinner or an enemy.

To hold up specific doctrines about sexuality above the more central value of compassion is more than mere legalism. It is virtual idolatry. It is confusing means with ends, giving more weight to selected issues than to the central message of one's faith, and in that process, distorting that faith beyond recognition.

Jesus condemned Pharisees and Saducees for doing much the same thing. What would he who healed the "honored slave" of a gentile soldier, and without hesitation, say to those who would refuse to do so today?

Stop "Having Sex" - Start Being Sexual

This coming Monday evening, I’ll be co-leading a workshop on safer sex, and one of the sections I’ll be doing is called “alternatives to intercourse” – and I’m beginning to feel some trepidation. Not the subject, but anticipation of the conversation…

“Oh, you mean ‘alternatives to having sex’?”

“No, intercourse.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

“If that were true, then gay and lesbian couples never have sex. Right?”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess so. Still,…”

Given a recent Kinsey Institute study, the debate over what constitutes “having sex” still rages on. Five percent of people interviewed did not consider vaginal intercourse as “having sex”; it gets worse if they’re told the man didn’t ejaculate (eleven percent) or if he used a condom (18 percent of men over 65).

Kind of explains the scores of teens and twenty-somethings, put through “abstinence-only” programs masquerading as sex education, and sincerely believing that they are still virgins because they did fellatio or cunnilingus or anal intercourse – none of which, in their minds, means “having sex.”

In my mind, the very phrase having sex is bothersome. Sex is not something you have or merely do, but something you experience and share. And sexuality is an integral part of who we are. I wonder if thinking about “having sex” in fact contributes to the ways in which we divorce sex and sexuality from our being, making it all to easy to further separate some forms of erotic and intimate expression from the very concept of sex.

So, here’s a rather bold proposal: Replace “having sex” with “being sexual.” Language changes all the time, and with it the way we think. So imagine, instead of saying: “We had sex,” the impact of saying: “We were sexual.” Think of the radical difference – the wonderful, essential difference – between the two, of merely having and actually being.

Some I’m sure would suggest “making love” as an alternative. But that seems almost euphemistic, as if trying to dodge the very question of sex via comfortable couching. I remember a celebrated singer giving a master class to young Julliard students, asking one fellow who’d been singing a torch song what he thought it meant. The young man talked wistfully about longing and yearning, and she simply shook her head, held up her hand, and told him bluntly: “It’s about sex.”

We need to be as blunt. Yet we also need to reintegrate the sexual back into our lives, to see the erotic and intimate not as mere things we can do in dissociated isolation, but as essential to our lives and life stories. We need to stop merely “having sex” and start “being sexual.” Let’s start by saying so, and work our way up from there.

The Impact of Porn ... May Actually Surprise You

For years, anti-porn activists on the Right and Left have been arguing that porn leads to increased levels of sexual violence. Some have even claimed to provide scientific evidence to support this view.

Now, a recent study by Professor Milton Diamond at the University of Hawaii says otherwise. Looking over data collected over many years and across many countries and cultures, Diamond's research finds no evidence showing a correlation between the two -- and that in some cases, rape and other sex crimes have decreased as availability of porn has gone up.

I'm typically skeptical whenever a sex study hits the headlines, and respond by taking a good hard look at the methodology and data. From what I can see, Diamond's work is thorough, and his critique is sound. Some may want to believe that porn is inherently bad for us, but belief and evidence are two different things. And it looks like the evidence just isn't there.

If anything, how we teach our children to think about sex is an even more important factor. Diamond cites research showing that: "rapists were more likely than nonrapists in the prison population to have been punished for looking at pornography while a youngster, while other research has shown that incarcerated nonrapists had seen more pornography, and seen it at an earlier age, than rapists. What does correlate highly with sex offense is a strict, repressive religious upbringing. Richard Green too has reported that both rapists and child molesters use less pornography than a control group of 'normal' males."

Time to put away puritanical legalism, and embrace a spirituality which celebrates our bodies and our erotic capabilities. And if more people do that, then maybe we'll even see a higher quality of erotic media out there. Wouldn't that be something!

IMHO: Cut the Hysteria over Circumcision

My weekend morning routine includes turning on the computer, and checking links to comments and news items emailed overnight. Lo and behold, I read that a fellow here in Massachusetts has (yet again) filed a bill trying to restrict circumcision.

First, an explanation. Yes, anyone in Massachusetts can file a bill through their legislator, under a provision called “right of free petition.” Whenever a legislator files such a bill “upon request” (meaning: “I’m only doing this because my constituent asked me to”) it’s usually considered the kiss of death.

Still, it bothers me. The author of this bill, and those who share his views, don’t just regard circumcision as unnecessary; they equate it with clitoridectomy and other forms of female genital mutilation.

Before I state my own position on the matter, a bit of disclosure. Yes, I was circumcised in infancy. I’ve never felt traumatized or damaged because of it. But I’ve endeavored to base my own views on research, not just personal experience.

The problem with equating circumcision with clitoridectomy is anatomy. The foreskin of the penis is not analogous to the external part of the clitoris. It’s more accurate to equate the foreskin to the clitoral hood (the flap of skin that partially covers the clit) and the clit with the glans (the head of the penis).

One can certainly argue that removing an infant boy’s foreskin is rarely necessary – but to equate it with removing a grown girl’s clitoris is both inaccurate and insulting, both to the women who have been actually traumatized, and to the millions of Jews and Moslems who consider circumcision an important rite of passage for their infant sons.

Does this mean that, were I to have a son, I’d insist on having him circumcised? No. Unless a doctor showed there was a medical need or benefit, I’d rather not. But I would also not impose such a decision on any other parent. In my eyes, an alternative to the draconian proposal cited above would be to give every parent considering circumcision all of the facts, so that they could make an informed decision.

Expressing concern – sure. Offering facts and choices – absolutely. But histrionic distortion – count me out.