Christianity and sex :
spiritual sex and Christianity
"I see Christ as absolutely, painfully, and courageously human. I see Christ as the essence of humanity in all of us, which includes our confusion, agony, inebriation, abandonment, philandering, and lust. I see Christ hungry for love, for sex, for orgasm, and ecstasy. And I see the guiltless bravado to which he gave himself in every act he ever did on earth.
I can see Christ insatiably slopping about in Magdalena’s loins, shamelessly enjoying her honey pot, and then licking her slowly from her clitoris to her tits. Why would he not have done such? A man alone amongst men, bound to the earth as much to the sky- the Lord of the Dance- wild and broken open to the loss, the agony, and the rapture. Why would he not have given himself to the joy and mystery of the tantra of sex? A wine bibber, a glutton, and a rhapsodic lover, who dove down deep into the Earth Mother’s womb, and into the open legs on Mary’s welcoming bed. Son of a vision, mate of a whore, Bridegroom to God, Christ came to dance, to drink, to love, and so much more.
Let them call me a blasphemer, a heathen, a pagan, or lost. No matter. I see Christ full and purging all that belongs to and runs out of the flesh. I see him after a night of wild revelry, bent over on all fours, emitting vomit onto the dark stones of a cobbled alley. I see him spraying warm urine against a lone olive tree on a desert hilltop at twilight. I see him clearing his nose like a barbarian, onto his weathered sleeve. I see his shit curl in all-too-human coils as it exits his hairy rectum, and I see his cum launched euphorically out of his pendulous member and into Mary’s welcoming caverns. I see it all for I do not deny Christ, nor the flesh, nor the earth, nor the heavens. I do not deny. I say this and a mad glee overcomes me. I do not deny.
I see Christ and Mary engaged in every act imaginable, from cunnilingus, to felatio, the sixty-nine, the wheelbarrow, spanking, probing, petting, jerking, sucking, and screwing. I see it all, for I will not deny Jesus the pleasures of the flesh.
I see Christ standing naked in the warm wind, guzzling from a bottle of wine, while Mary is guzzling from him. I see him behind her, his teeth buried into the back of her neck, and his proboscis buried into her quiff.
I see Christ as a man without shame, without remorse, and without self-denial. And perhaps that is why they lynched him, because he exposed how pathetically everyone else had limited their lives through guilt and cowardice, and so his life was a spit in their face, a living mirror of disgust, and a fearless act of contempt.
For it was this same Christ who murdered me and who also saved me, this same Christ who demanded goodness of me and also demanded indifference, this same Christ who cared for me and also did not care, and this same Christ who spoke to me and who also was ever silent.
Christ was a man repulsed by the futile ways mankind deceived themselves and others, and he was none too slow to let others know this. I see in everything he did, and did not do, his belligerent, and determined words- “I will do as I please. I will eat meat if and when I want. I will drink wine if and when I choose. I will love Mary whenever and however I desire. I will work on the Sabbath if I please. And I will lie around as much as I can in the meantime. Take your rules, your lies, your judgments, shames, fears, and your deaths, you can have them, because I care for none of them.”
I feel Christ’s disgust burning holes in the hearts and egos of the citizens, belittling them, ostracizing them, and condemning them. And yet in his contempt and rejection of mankind’s ways, I see his love, and hear him saying, “I love you enough to turn away from your stupidities, conventions, repressions, and fear, for in the simony of your souls do you sin against the God within you, and I will have none of it.”
I see Christ in all the sordid ecstasies which humanity both desires and denies. I see him dancing a mad dance, because the world is not enough for him, and because God is too much, and the cup will not be removed but that he has drunk it dry. And so he is unleashed in a wild and euphoric, desperate dance of acceptance and abandon, a tortured and uncultured, ignoble and redemptive dance of the flesh, because he is here and now, the maker and breaker of mankind, a son of mankind, a created God, gripped in the feverish passion of one who has nothing, is nothing, knows nothing but that to be alive is a mystery and a miracle worth enduring through no matter what, no matter where, be it in the harsh confines of all the cities on earth, in the lone sorrow of the endless wilds, in the arms and hearts of his brothers, sisters, and enemies, in the rain and sun and snow, in the hunger, the satiation, the awe and tribulations, in all that it is to be a man, to be on earth, to live, and love, and take up your song and sing for the glory of creation, even unto the cross."
Books by Jack Haas
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