New Year's Eve Confession and How I'm a Yurodivy

My confession is I am incredibly discouraged and I hate writing this blog.  Did you know that?  I've been working on Your Body as Sacred Part II for two months.  I can't seem to get it out.  Why? Because, I. hate. this. blog.  Why?  It's depressing that there is even a need for it.  It's very depressing to me that most people view themselves as just highly evolved animals and sex as a mere recreational activity, that most people are entirely numb to the vast spiritual affects it is supposed to have.  I hate that I feel compelled to try and speak up against that.  I blame God for that.  It is surely His fault that I can't just stick my head in the sand and not think about it.  I hate how terribly un-cool and foolish I look to the world.  I'm not one of those haughty Christians who apparently don't give the slightest damn what people think of them.  I'm not immune to harsh and hurtful words.  Maybe I'm stupid, but I'm not so stupid that the world's judgement just rolls off me like water off a duck's back.   I was watching a segment of Dr. Drew's show and he called a woman pursuing purity "sexually anorexic" (source here).  That really sums up the predominant attitude I come in contact with.  I am frequently taunted and heckled by peers and even members of my family.  I had a guy break up with me because I wouldn't "at least" give him a hand job.  My mother has told me she doesn't think men are "built for monogamy".  My brother has told me I'm "messed up".  My father told me it was my fault my very first relationship ended because I was "torturing the poor kid" by not giving him sex.  People closest to me with the greatest capacity to hurt me have tried to convince me that sex is "just physical" and that I have got it "wrong" and that my understanding that sex is sacred is a DELUSION.    I'm not immune.  Don't worry, I feel those blows as keenly as if I had bruises blossoming over my heart and gut and across my face.  Really, I often just feel beaten up.  I get it.  I'm stupid.   I understand.  Therefore, very often, I just plain hate sex and I hate myself for being so stupid, for trying to hang on to a "delusion" for over a decade that seemingly does nothing for me except open me up to all sorts of hurt.  A delusion that I'm not even sure is even possible to have fully realized on this earth.  A delusion that I'm not even that great at upholding!  I'm no example of perfect purity.  Maybe thats the most discouraging.  Not only am I stupid but I'm not even that great at being stupid.  I am a fool.

I was laying in bed last night until about 3am just thinking about how stupid I am and to comfort myself I pulled out my iPhone to google for a Bible verse I knew of but couldn't recall verbatim:

For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.  For it is written:

“I will destroy the wisdom of the wise;
    the intelligence of the intelligent I will frustrate.”

Where is the wise person? Where is the teacher of the law? Where is the philosopher of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world?  For since in the wisdom of God the world through its wisdom did not know him, God was pleased through the foolishness of what was preached to save those who believe.  Jews demand signs and Greeks look for wisdom, but we preach Christ crucified: a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles,  but to those whom God has called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God.  For the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than human strength.

Brothers and sisters, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth.  But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong.  God chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things—and the things that are not—to nullify the things that are,  so that no one may boast before him. It is because of him that you are in Christ Jesus, who has become for us wisdom from God—that is, our righteousness, holiness and redemption.  Therefore, as it is written: “Let the one who boasts boast in the Lord.”

1 Corinthians 1:18-31

I'd like to tell you about the term "yurodivy".  It is a word that the Russian orthodox church uses to describe a "holy fool".  A person described as a yurodivy is believed to have special enlightenment, a divine understanding, but their actions make them foolish to the world.  The term is specifically used to describe several "saints" in the Russian orthodox church but over the years the word has carved out its own place in Russian culture.  I like this word. It's quite interesting really; check out the links at the end of this blog entry.  I am currently reading Kisses from Katie about a college-aged woman who ended up moving to Uganda, adopting 14 orphaned girls and beginning the Amazima ministry. See here.  I was telling my brother about her; he said it sounded like she "had a couple screws loose."  See? Yurodivy.

So I have this little blog, and I stand on this little soap box even when I don't feel like it (which is most of the time).  I'll stand here and boast in the Lord about my favorite "should be"  even if I never see it make a difference.  Even if I never see the delusion realized or feel respected and cherished as I think I should be.  Even if my attempts to honor others are rebuffed and derided.  I will stand here and boast in the Lord and take the blows as they come.  I will wear the label of a yurodivy as Christ wore "King of the Jews".  I'm a yurodivy in many more ways that just pursuing purity or being "sexually anorexic" as Dr. Drew would say.  Yes, I'm quite a fool.  To think that life is so precious and that Christ's love is more powerful than any and all evil.  To try to follow His commandments.  That I should make myself the least of these and spend my life serving.  But I love Him, and He says if I love Him than I will follow His words.  So I try.

To return to my "beaten up" analogy.  I very often picture myself that way.  Maybe I enjoy too many fantasy epics like Lord of the Rings, but I can see myself, battered, broken, bruised and bleeding. My clothing filthy, tattered and my armor of God (Ephesians 6:10-18) rusted and long past usefulness.  I can see myself falling to my knees at the feet of Christ, utterly spent.  Maybe begging, "I tried, really I tried, I tried."  Maybe saying nothing and just sobbing bitter tears that make streaks down my dirty face.  Full of my own regret for doing so little and falling so short.  Then, He puts His glorious hand under my worthless chin and makes me look at Him, and I'll hear those words every Christian hopes they hear upon their death.

"Well done, good and faithful servant."

And I won't mind that I was so stupid.

So, Christian readers, my hope for you is that you have a very foolish 2014 and you stand firm in all your hope and conviction no matter how stupid the world makes you feel.

Everyone else, Happy New Year, live long and prosper.

Yurodivy links:

http://saintpaulsunday.publicradio.org/features/0004_shostakovich/holyfool.shtml

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yurodivy#Eastern_Christianity

http://www.shepherdsguild.org/id60.html

I saw the devil wrapping up his hands...

The Dustland Fairytale beginning
With just another white trash county kiss in '61.
Long brown hair, and foolish eyes.
He'd look just like you'd want him to
Some kind of slick chrome American prince.

Blue Jean serenade
Moon River what'd you do to me
I don't believe you.

Saw Cinderella in a party dress, but she was looking for a nightgown.
I saw the devil wrapping up his hands, he's getting ready for the showdown.
I saw the minute that I turned away, I got my money on a pawn tonight.

Change came in disguise of revelation, set his soul on fire.
She said she always knew he'd come around.
And the decades disappear
Like sinking ships but we persevere.
God gives us hope but we still fear what we don't know.

Your mind is poisoned.
Castles in the sky sit stranded, vandalized.
The drawbridge is closing.

Saw Cinderella in a party dress, but she was looking for a nightgown.
I saw the devil wrapping up his hands, he's getting ready for the showdown.
I saw the ending when they turned the page, I threw my money and I ran away.
Sent to the valley of the great divide
Out where the dreams all hide.
Out where the wind don't blow,
Out here the good girls die.
And the sky won't snow
Out here the bird don't sing
Out here the field don't grow
Out here the bell don't ring
Out hear the bell don't ring
Out here the good girls die
Now Cinderella don't you go to sleep, it's such a bitter form of refuge.
Why don't you know the kingdom is under siege and everybody needs you.
Is there still magic in the midnight sun, or did you leave it back in '61?
In the cadence of a young man's eyes.
Out where the dreams all hide

- The Killer's "A Dustland Fairytale"

*Video link here.

Psalm 40

I waited patiently for the Lord;
    he turned to me and heard my prayer.

He drew me up from the pit,
    out of the mud and mire,
and set my feet upon a rock,
    making my steps secure. He put a new song in my mouth,
    a song of praise to our God.
Many will see and hear,
    and put their trust in the Lord.

 Blessed is the man who makes
    the Lord his trust,
who does not turn to the proud,
    to those who go astray after a lie!
 Many, O Lord my God, are
    your wondrous deeds and your thoughts toward us;
    none can compare with you!
I will proclaim and tell of them,
    yet they are more than can be told.

 In sacrifice and offering you have not delighted,
    but you have given me an open ear.
Burnt offering and sin offering
    you have not required.
 Then I said, “Behold, I have come;
    in the scroll of the book it is written of me:
 I delight to do your will, O my God;
    your law is within my heart.”

 I have told the glad news of deliverance
    in the great congregation;
behold, I have not restrained my lips,
    as you know, O Lord.
 I have not hidden your deliverance within my heart;
    I have spoken of your faithfulness and your salvation;
I have not concealed your steadfast love and your faithfulness
    from the great congregation.

 As for you, O Lord, you will not restrain
    your mercy from me;
your steadfast love and your faithfulness will
    ever preserve me!
 For evils have encompassed me
    beyond number;
my iniquities have overtaken me,
    and I cannot see;
they are more than the hairs of my head;
    my heart fails me.

 Be pleased, O Lord, to deliver me!
    O Lord, make haste to help me!
 Let those be put to shame and disappointed altogether
    who seek to snatch away my heart;
let those be turned back and brought to dishonor
    who delight in my hurt!
 Let those be appalled because of their shame
    who say to me, “Aha, Aha!”

 But may all who seek you
    rejoice and be glad in you;
may those who love your salvation
    say continually, “Great is the Lord!”
 As for me, I am poor and in need,
    but the Lord takes thought for me.
You are my help and my deliverer;
    do not delay, O my God!

Some days I really don't enjoy myself at all.

The 40 Year Old Virgin is on tv right now... I was going to watch it again and sit here and despair over this society, but then I found out The Little Mermaid is on too... saved.

Someday, I'll be writing a blog post that includes both of these movies.

Why I Keep Cutting All My Hair Off

For the most part, my posts up until this point haven't been very personal.  This post will be a little bit of a departure, but it goes along with the exploration of the significance/meaning of the human body.  Don't worry, The Body as Sacred Part II will be coming soon (and it won't be as long as part I).

I cut all my hair off about a year ago.  I was vacationing in San Diego, and it was either a piercing, a tattoo, or an extreme haircut.  So, I cut all my hair off.  I've always enjoyed changing my hair.  If life gets chaotic and I need a sense of control, a new cut or a new color does the trick.  However, cropping all my hair off has some additional meaning for me.

It's not an attempt to look like the few stunning celebrities who have made short hair more "in".  I am no Emma Watson.  It has far more to do with my own personal rebellion against the enduring cultural standard for women's beauty.

Despite such pixie-cut actresses as Emma Watson, Anne Hathaway, and (most recently) Jennifer Lawrence, there is still a stigma about short hair.  Remember the media storm over Emma Watson when she cut her hair? All the articles that speculated that she might be a lesbian?  Maybe you weren't reading People magazine at that time.  Here is a recap for you, and here is another reaction from Emma Watson about the stigma.

As with big boobs, men just like long hair.  It is a generalization that has a lot of truth to it.  After I cut my hair, the reaction I got from most men was very derogatory.  I was called "butch" and "peter pan".  I was even told I looked "like a twelve year old boy" and "like a dike".  Most women seemed to like the cut on me, but almost all of them would follow up with the same question.  With wide eyes and a worried expression they would ask,

"What does your boyfriend think?" 

"Men like long hair you know"

Yeah, I know.  Men like women with long hair and big boobs and dirty tricks in the bedroom.  Three strikes, I'm out.  Don't worry, I know.

A few women skipped that question and just asked me outright if I had a bad break up, unable to imagine that a women might cut all her hair off when she was trying to keep a man around.

The fact that there is a "cultural standard" of beauty for women (and for men) is, at times, down right infuriating for me.  I believe in the Roald Dahl standard:

"A person with good thoughts can never be ugly.  You can have a wonky nose and a crooked mouth and a double chin and stick-out teeth, but if you have good thoughts they will shine out of your face like sun beams and you will always look lovely."

I'm not a fan of procuring a specific taste for physical features or a certain "type" of beauty.  I hate that our culture ascribes no value to our bodies or the intimacy we are capable of, however it has a standard of beauty by which our "worth" is judged and measured according to our physical appearance.  I HATE it.  Not because I personally feel like I'm lacking.  I'll be honest, I love my small breasts.  I think they are sweet.  I love how they look in a ballet leotard, soft rises that don't draw attention away from the lines I make with my arabesques or cambres.  I love that they have been precious to me and that I've endeavored to kept them pure for one man.  It makes no difference to ME that I can't even make it look like I have cleavage no matter how much I squish them together.  I don't wear clothes that could show off cleavage even if I had any.  I'm not playing that game.  I like my breasts.  I like my breasts, but I hate that I live in a culture which tells me they aren't anything special since they are barely more than an A cup.  I hate it even more when I have days that I believe that lie.  I'm not immune to the bombardment of our cultural standard.  Scan the headlines of magazines at the check-out; watch TV for half an hour.  It is undeniable.  Men like big boobs, or as Sofia Vergara puts it:

Thanks, Sofia.  That is a big help.  I appreciate you advocating for the worth of women (not), but you do provide a good segue into my next point.

Our culture encourages us to have a sexual appetite for those who fit the "standard" of beauty.  Our culture tells us that our body isn't sacred.  Your body doesn't mean anything, and it is only as good as the level of sexual arousal it produces in others.  Porn exists entirely on this premise.  Bodies are tools of sexual arousal.  Only profanity unfit for a Christian blog on sex could articulate how I feel about this.

The cultural standard of beauty is a terrible thing, and we are all (some more than others) slaves to it.  Any woman who wanted to try a pixie cut but was afraid she wouldn't be attractive to her man.  Any woman who bought a padded push-up bra because her boobs didn't look like the ones her boyfriend is looking at on the computer.  Any guy who has taken one of the many "male enhancement" drugs because he didn't feel like he was "well endowed" enough.  Any guy who felt like "less of a man" because he doesn't look like a Hollywood actor with a personal trainer and regular steroid injections.  All of us who have looked at ourselves in the mirror and fallen short of the image in our heads of what we "should" look like.  We have all been slaves to this culture's pathetic "standard".  It is down right destructive.

Now that I've ragged on the cultural standard of beauty, I would like to address personal standards of beauty.

This is really a message for my Christian readers.

Guess what.

You aren't supposed to have a "standard" of beauty.

Yeah, you heard me.

Your standard of beauty and sex appeal is supposed to be your spouse.

You are supposed to be with one person, the one person that God has meant for you (if you are destined to be wed).  You don't need to be developing a "taste" for women/men.  How do I know this?

Because the Bible says that the marriage relationship is supposed to be like the relationship between Christ and the Church.  It is THROUGHOUT the Bible, Old Testament and New.  Both are supposed to be perfectly devoted with desire only for each other.  So what are you doing developing preferences for how you "like your men" or how you "like your women"?  Determining what kind of specific physical traits you desire?  Your standard of beauty is supposed to be the person God has set aside for you (should He plan for you to be married at all).

Again, our culture exploits, objectifies, and commercializes our physical appearance so thoroughly that it is perfectly "normal" for all of us to do this as individuals.

Remember guys,

I appeal to you therefore, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship.  Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.

Romans 12:1-2

It might sound really unreasonable to you, that I should suggest that we are not to develop physical or sexual "tastes" but instead attempt to reserve all of our desire for one person.  I'm not saying it isn't hard to do, but this is what God expects us to strive for.  Jesus quoted the foundation of marriage in Genesis when He said that a man and woman were to become one in marriage and never separate.  According to Him, the only other option is to live your life like a eunuch- someone with no genitals, no sexual desire (Matthew 19).  Additionally, Jesus said that lust and sensuality are sins (Matthew 5 and 7).  We are urged to "take every thought captive" (2 Corinthians 10:5)  and to treat each other outside of marriage with "absolute purity" as brothers and sisters (1 Timothy 5:1-2).

To sum this up,

Our physical appearance is NOT supposed to be so important.  Our physical appearance is NOT something that is supposed to be used to judge our worth.  We aren't supposed to objectify each other according to how our sexual desires respond to physical characteristics.

Our bodies are supposed to be sacred.

We should have a deep reverence for each other's bodies regardless of the physical expression of our genes.  We should relate to each other as sisters and brothers, the children of God, with perfect love and purity.  We should reserve, concentrate, and focus ALL of our physical/sexual desire on our husband/wife.  That is what we deserve according to God.  That is what I deserve. That is what you deserve, to be the only object of one person's physical/sexual desire in conjunction with being their only romantic love and soulmate.  For one person, YOU are supposed to be THE standard of beauty.


So I cut off all my hair again, just a couple weeks ago.  I felt like I was competing again, competing with the cultural standard, with women in my life, with women in my head.  So, I took myself out of the game.  I cut off all my hair, and benched myself for the season.  I'm not competing.  So keep those "butch" comments coming. I love them, because nobody on this planet gets to define the worth of my body.  I'm not playing that game.  I refuse to believe the lies this culture tells.  Lies like:

This

means nothing, its just a tool for sexual arousal.

This body

has no inherent value.

This

is not sacred, it's just physical.

Screw that.

Let your adorning be the hidden person of the heart with the imperishable beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is very precious in God's sight.

1 Peter 3:4

Do you not know that you are God's temple and that the Holy Spirit dwells in you?  If anyone destroys God's temple, God will destroy him.  For God's temple is holy, and you are that temple.

1 Corinthians 3:16-17

For this is the will of God, your sanctification: that you abstain from sexual immorality; that each one of you know how to control his own body in holiness and honor, not in the passion of lust like those who do not know God.

1 Thessalonians 4:3-5