Pornography: “porn”–literally meaning prostitute, implying distorted or exploitive; “graphy”–writing, pictures.
For a long time, pornography seemed more of a tawdry embarrassment, an ugly rash on the underbelly of society. With the rise of the internet, two lethal ingredients were added: easy access and privacy. Pornography has exploded.
Pornography is a symptom of a larger illness. Not just a general coarsening of morality or a desensitization of sexuality, where we are bombarded by sexual images and innuendo everywhere, all the time, although that is true. The larger illness is our human tendency to view people as things, objects, stuff, rather than amazing, beautiful mysteries created by God. Porn is distortion, exploitation, the commodification of people.
A group of Christian college boys decided to hire a prostitute, not for sex, but just to “talk with her,” perhaps even to share Christ. Wacky idea? Probably. Inspired as much by hormones as the Holy Spirit? I would guess so. Nonetheless, when the prostitute asked the young men, “What do you want?” they responded, “Nothing really. Just to talk and get to know you as a person.” The woman flared up with anger and replied, “You paid for my body, but no one has access to my soul.” Intuitively she understood that while her body was for sale, her whole self was not on the market. Wanting part of someone, but not all of them–distortion, porn.
A recent retiree tells me that she is obsessed by TV news. Raised to be civicminded, taught to “read the Bible with one hand and the New York Times with the other,” she now is riveted to yet repulsed by cable news. The same stories repeated every 15 minutes. Voyeurism masquerading as journalism. Molehills made into mountains to feed the beast of 24-hour news. It drives her to despair, but she can’t turn away. Pornography?
Economics as if People Mattered is the subtitle of E.F. Schumacher’s classic book Small is Beautiful. Viewing people as production units, cogs in the machine, GNP enhancers–porno-economics. Economics is complicated, but this might be a good, simple test for porno-economics: do you, as a manager or supervisor, know the name of the person who empties your waste paper basket at work?
Recently I heard a speaker say, “Churches need a new scorecard. For too long we’ve kept score at church according to the M & M’s–membership and money.”M & M’s–membership and money: distorted, manipulative church. Pornochurch?
Athletes pressured to play when injured, even at the risk of life-long damage, who feel the need to use performance-enhancing drugs or be replaced. Youth teams that practice at 5 am. Family routines, church schedules must bow before the great and mighty athletics. Pornoathletics.
And what about the Song of Solomon, that shamelessly erotic poem that somehow snuck into the Old Testament? “Your two breasts are like two fawns.” Decades in ministry does not prepare you to stand in the pulpit and read this aloud to your congregation. Is not this pornography too?
Not at all. Song of Solomon is anything but prudish. Lovers rhapsodize in praise of their partner’s body. But the startling descriptions it contains are terms of endearment. Ellen Davis suggests we are privy here to the couple’s pillow talk, their intimate conversations. Porn/distortion is when we describe people we do not love by their body parts. “Check out his….” “I’d like to get my hands on her…” But in Song of Solomon we have delightful poetry rooted in a relationship, pet names whispered between lovers, not lust from afar.
A few years back, my congregation developed its “mission and values statement”–a tedious and trendy task. But we stumbled on this helpful phrase: “We value face-to-face interaction.” I don’t think we just thought that up in a flash of creativity. Rather I believe it is deeply engraved on our souls because we know that in Jesus Christ this is how God comes to us–face to face. In the flesh. Face to face is the antidote to porn/distortion in all its forms.
Stephen Mathonnet-VanderWell is co-pastor of Second Reformed Church, Pella, Iowa.
