Intimacy, and the lack thereof

Ok, this first paragraph what actually written later on. I figured I should warn you before you plunge in that some of the following may be seen as awkward or inappropriate. I really don't know - I think I'm a poor judge of such things. But just so there are no surprises, I'll be talking here about intimacy, the physical display thereof, love, sex, and so forth. If you were hoping to get though life without ever hearing me talk about sex, you probably shouldn't read this. Otherwise, we should be fine.

I want to give to you. I want to connect with you. I want to walk with you; talk with you. I want to touch you. I recently heard a sermon about loving God with all aspects of our being - heart, soul, mind and strength. I want to do the same for you.

Touch is a curious thing. People tend not to be comfortable with it, past a certain point. I like it. I like being hugged and kissed and held. It's therapeutic for me. It's comforting. It's my "love language", I suppose. It's funny because most people are simply grossed out by the level of physical intimacy I have with some guys. For myself, I'm a bit frightened by physical contact with girls. But this last week I met a few girls who are comfortable with physical touch, and it was a weird experience. I can remember lying on a couch with my head on a girl's lap (a girl I hardly knew) and having her stroke my hair. It was a good experience. It felt beautiful to me in some way, kind of like Jesus eating with prostitutes or touching lepers. It felt like a gesture of cool defiance against the tight-assed prudishness of our culture. Or something. Words elude me at the moment.

Sexuality is a weird thing. I guess at my current point in life it's simply an annoyance. It gets in the way of what I want to do, because I think there are some things that are simply off limits - not even because of any cultural norms or taboos, but because of myself. I know there are things that I couldn't handle, that are unredeemably sexual, if I can say that. (Thinking.) For the first time in my life I'm questioning the whole monogamy thing. Wait. Ok, maybe I'm getting ahead of myself. I'll come back to that.

So, four aspects of our being - Heart, soul, mind and body. I'm talking about the body part because it's by nature more visible and therefore more discussable, but I want to take this and apply it to the other parts as well. What about talking? I really like talking with people. Is that a mind thing? Maybe a heart thing? Maybe it depends on the subject and the context. Maybe if we're discussing a topic of mutual interest, that's mind-type intimacy, whereas if we're revealing the nature of our emotions, hopes and dreams, it's heart-intimacy. Maybe. Where does the soul come in?

If I remember correctly, the speaker this last week said the soul stuff was like ambitions or values or something. Plato refers to the soul, or the "spirited" part of us as being the possessor of courage. Maybe soul-intimacy means making you a priority in my life (and vice-versa). Maybe it's the choosing part of love - the "I don't like you at the moment, yet I will continue to love you" kind of love. I don't know. I'm thinking on the fly.
I'm quite reckless about intimacy. It's my favorite thing in the world, and I tend to think that the deeper I can be with more people, the better. There are very few things about myself - thoughts, feelings, etc. - that I choose to keep secret from everyone. If you hang out with me long enough, there are few things that I know or guess about myself that I won't share with you sooner or later. This is unusual, apparently. I don't know why I'm comfortable doing this when most others apparently aren't. Maybe part of it is that I've pretty much never been betrayed by anyone. I don't know. What I set out to say in this paragraph is that I see no problem with being intimate with a wide range of people. But others, apparently, do. I don't know why this is, but I think it relates to the idea of having one wife (or husband) and the idea of sexual fidelity.

I guess I look at physical intimacy as being the lowest of the kinds of intimacy. To achieve some kind of union of the mind, the heart, even the spirit, would be a kind of wonderful and mystical thing, much more difficult than a simple physical touch. Oops, here comes another tangent:

What's the deal with sex? Is physical intimacy a single scale, ranging from casual contact at the base to sex at the pinnacle? Is sex the greatest and most intense form of physical intimacy? Maybe. Does that mean that all touch is sexual to some degree, and that what we call "intimacy" is simply a measure of sexuality? I don't think so. So where's the distinction? How does an act become sexual or non-sexual? I guess intention plays into it. An act of physical intimacy like a kiss (not just a kiss as a category, but a very specific, single kiss) can be sexual or non-sexual depending on the intentions and the interpretations of the kissers. It may even have a sexual aspect for one of the kissers, but not the other. This is where we run into problems with people disagreeing about what kinds of touch are "appropriate", either in certain contexts or in general.

I wonder how sexual attraction plays into the whole thing. It's so weird that I'm attracted to people of one gender and not the other (Orlando Bloom being something of an exception). It's weird that I can still want to touch someone for whom I feel no sexual attraction. It's weird that I can want to touch someone for whom I might conceivably feel sexual attraction in a totally non-sexual way. It's weird that even "innocent" (as if to imply that sexual desire is some kind of sin) affectionate touch can apparently progress very quickly into the other kind. (Oh, if you're curious, my aside about Orlando Bloom was a joke.)

But what's the big deal about sex? Why is it this big secret thing that we place so many restrictions on? Sex builds intimacy, it shows love, so why can this be done only between two people, within a certain kind of relationship, and (possibly) with several other restrictions? It seems that God's got the idea that we should only be so intimate with most people, and that there is at the most one other person with whom we should have a special level of intimacy. Perhaps this is what's repulsive to me about marriage: the idea that I'm dedicated to one person only, for the rest of my life, and that all other relationships are somehow restricted by that. I don't necessarily mean that I'm disappointed about not being able to have sex with a bunch of different people - being a good Christian boy, I never even think about sex - but I'm disappointed that I can't have with many people the kind of beautiful, incredibly close relationship that is apparently possible only within marriage, symbolized by physical union.

Um, I wasn't intending to talk so much about sex. It's an illustration, primarily, or was intended to be. It seems to me, based on the Bible's ideas about sex and marriage, that there should be some kinds of restrictions on intimacy between most people. I don't really understand why this is. Knowing people, being known, loving and receiving love is the best thing I've ever experienced. When Christians give their sales pitch they always talk about being known and loved by God and the opportunity to have a relationship with Him. I don't understand why God would create us with this desire and need for community and then effectively say "this far you may go, but no further". No random physical sex. I say "physical sex" - are their equivalents? Is there "heart-sex"? "Spirit-sex"? "Mind-sex"? Deeply intimate, perhaps pleasurable, very personal things that are or should be shared only with a very few - perhaps only one - person in all the earth?

I'm not really arguing for polygamy - I can see that that doesn't work. It's just strange to me that it should be like that. Is it because humans have a limited amount of love to give, and we can't possibly have the relationship a marriage ought to be with more than one person? Is it because of the jealousy that seems to be inherent in sexual relationships? Is intimacy somehow valuable only to the extent that it is exclusive? The general point of all of this, if you got lost on my rabbit-trails, is that there may be restrictions on the degree of intimacy that can or should be experienced between two or more people. I don't know what these may be or what their purpose is, or how it all may relate to God's strange ideas about sex.

As I've said before, I don't understand God. He alternately befuddles and bores me, and I've never been able to feel close to him in any way. I'm often not completely convinced of his existence. God cannot be hugged. He can be spoken to, but not spoken with. He can be worshiped, but this is not a particularly pleasing or fulfilling experience for me. I know of no way of connecting with God. What I see most in my life is people, and it is only through people that I see (or rather, choose to see) God. God loves me through people. He challenges me, ministers to me, encourages and uplifts me through people. Often I get weary of grasping at God. I've heard it said that Christ forms connections between Christians, allowing us to know and love each other better. This may be true in some intangible, mystical way, but it's only a theory - there is no practical application in my life. In my own life in fact I see the reverse: I relate to God and he relates to me through other people.

It just occurred to me that God doesn't speak my love language. I need touch - this is key. Words of affirmation are also very important, as is quality time. Acts of service are good. Gifts come in last. Whenever Christians talk about God loving us, it's all about the gifts he gives us. God redeemed us. He gives us with many blessings. ("Us" meaning my little circle of middle-class North American Christians with good families and friends and bright futures. Never mind most of the world, who are not blessed by God by this definition.) I don't mean to say that I'm indifferent to or ungrateful for these things - they just don't stir me to profound passion and gratitude. Frankly, they leave me feeling empty. To me gifts without time, talk and touch are flaky and fake - the currency of dead-beat dads and detatched, indifferent parents. Please understand, I'm not whining about this. I'm not all that bitter about it, just a little disappointed. God gives me gifts, and that's good. The greatest gifts he gives me are people who can love me the way I need to be loved. That these people are the gifts of God, the agents of God in my life, I have no doubt. Let them love me and let me love them, and I will be content. What gets me is when people tell me that's not enough - I must go back to God himself and show genuine love to him. That feels so unfair to me. I feel no love for this God. How can I? I don't know him. I'm not angry with him really. I don't hate him, we just have no relationship. Try to get your head out of Church-land and hear what I'm saying: This God is not my father - he's just the one who fathered me. I'm like some kid raised by a single mom who's dragged off one day to see his dad. I can't run up and kiss this guy and say that I love him, as if he were really my father. I can't pretend that he tucked me in every night, that he came to my soccer games, that he talked with me and laughed with me and lived with me all these years. I'm not angry at God. I really think we could get along fine. I could respect him, even obey him. Just don't ask me to love him. I can't and I won't sell my love so cheap. I feel nothing for God, except maybe a quiet reverence or respect. Unless you press me to love him - then I get frustrated and confused. God loves me through people. Why can't I just love him through people? Why can't I die to myself and care about my brothers and give myself up for them and let that be enough? Why do you insist that I talk to this God? Haven't you noticed that he doesn't respond?

Oh, give me religion! Simply tell me what I must do to please the silent God. I can do rituals. I can follow laws. I can even pray liturgy, if you want me to. I can talk to God, just don't ask me to talk with God. It's not possible. I'm weary of my struggle for relationship with him. Like Sylvia, daddy, I'm through.

...But who am I kidding? (I'm speaking softly now, smiling ruefully, sheepishly, bitterly up at you.) We both know how this ends. We've played this out before. I get fed up with God, you steer me back. I don't know. Like a dog who's peed on the rug, I feel guilty, vaguely aware that I've done something that will incur displeasure (that is, something "wrong"). I feel like I've failed you, and for that I am sorry. Steer me back again.