I was five when I got introduced to porn. The indelible glossy image of Miss March had been archived in my head. All that it takes to pop it open is a blink. I had no clue what took off from those days of curiosity but a true monster held me hostage for years.
My father's skin collection, though well hidden, was no match to the pulsating craving that had me search every possible source for a few more peeks. The fix of pornography is wildly ethereal. Through my adolescent decrepitude I found a place of mirth. All these staggering women staring at me ... vigorously offering their virtual intimacy. it was a most emaciating arrangement. One dies a thousand death with porn. It never satisfies. It silently humiliates as it bullies the reality of one's hidden ineptness.
When I followed Christ, I was ushered into liberation. I discovered the cosmic insurgency of what used to be my fundamental preoccupation. If there was anything truly anti-Christ, it had to be porn.
In Christ, I see beauty from the grandeur of God's purity. I began to understand why I was created in flesh and in spirit. In creation, the reflection of deity was conceived. The human body was created with pristine beauty. The imago Dei was deliberately stunning.
But the fall ended this wonder.
Sin caused the need to provide coverings for our nakedness. We have become creatures of shame through the compliments of our own guilt. Whenever there is any un-dressing, our sensibilities run amok. We gravitate toward exposed flesh in search for some scent that provides the clue that there might be something in our sexuality that was stolen. Somewhere deep inside our conscience, we know there is inherent beauty in the flesh. But since we have become blind to these unseen realities, we experience flesh differently: our glands take over and lust intercepts our attention. We are no match against this invasion to our soul. We are porn to die.
The only way to regain the gift of original vision is to turn to the only One who vowed to destroy the virus. Christ took on flesh. Incarnation was his introduction to the Armageddon of our lustful existence. Carrying the form of our infected vessel, he went on to live the perfect life in the flesh. His perfect submission to His Father's will sustained his walk. As such, he showed the proper way of the flesh. Holiness is not only assimilated but imputed towards anyone who would dare to believe in Him.
It occurred to me that my resonant pleasure is in the discovery that my transformed flesh took on the form of a tabernacle. I have become a dwelling place for my God who radically transplanted His spirit into my flesh, causing it to burst forth in pure beauty. So exquisite is my physicality that is now able to cohabit with a divinity that harks back to imago Dei.
Every now and then, the haunting of lustful images rally for my affection. All I do is close my eyes, and with deep discerning breath, enter into the incomparable largesse of Christ's incarnated affection for me.
I have no more room for lust. All my chambers are now occupied with whoops of true ecstasy.
