How Skipping Movies with Sex Scenes Prepared Me for the Coronavirus
Thankfully,
a couple online articles shared by friends of mine helped me see the
self-centeredness of my position. With the necessary course correction these
articles provided, my family and I became willing participants in the
self-quarantine precautions widely recommended by both church and government
authorities. We found the adjustment to be far easier than it would have been a
few years ago.
What
happened a few years ago? I instigated a practice that we might call “sexual
distancing.”
DISTANCING
FROM SEXUALIZED ENTERTAINMENT
The
connection might not make sense without some explanation. Several years ago, I
experienced a paradigm shift in my approach to entertainment choices. Because we
live in a pornified society, it used to be that my primary, and often sole, criteria
for evaluating a film or TV show was whether or not its content would prove to
be a stumbling block to me.
What
I came to realize, however, was that my position, while not wrong in and of
itself, was inadvertently narrow-minded. I had failed to also take into account
the open secret of the entertainment industry: actors often experience
discomfort, shame, trauma, and even coercion in the production of hypersexualized
content, including nude and sex scenes. This truth is tragically illustrated by
the examples of Margot
Robbie, Jennifer
Lawrence, Evangeline
Lilly, and many, many
others.
I
first became aware of this reality through the work of pastor and author Wayne
A. Wilson. In his book Worldly Amusements
(see my
review here), he shares his own transformation:
I
went through a stage when I believed, as most Christians do today, that if a
film is good enough, it doesn’t matter if some nudity or sex is thrown in. I
didn’t like it, but I accepted it. I was wrong; it does matter. My approach was
selfish. Though I didn’t want to see scenes like that, I was willing to
tolerate them for a good time. I was placing my amusement, something completely
unimportant, over my obligation to love, something of the highest importance.
(111)
I
too grew to find that the inconvenience of staying home from the theater on
certain occasions paled in comparison to the opportunity to love my entertainer as I love
myself. The “loss” of refusing to pay for movies and shows marred by
actor exploitation is small; it doesn’t compare to the gain of experiencing and
demonstrating more of God’s heart for His image bearers.
In
short, I exchanged a self-focused paradigm for an others-focused paradigm, and
the changes in my heart and life and marriage have been extraordinarily
positive.
MARTIN
LUTHER ON SOCIAL DISTANCING
It
is this understanding that has prepared my heart to embrace the timeless exhortations
of a famous figure from church history—someone intimately familiar with the
dangers of a pandemic: Martin Luther. In one
tract he wrote, Luther provides invaluable advice on the Christian’s role during a time of
plague, when (as he puts it) “the rumor of death is to be heard in these
and many other parts.”
Luther
points out that the command of Scripture is, “‘Love your neighbor as yourself,’
and in Matthew 7[:12], ‘So whatever you wish that men would do to you, do so to
them.’” In fact, he says, “the command to love your neighbor is equal to the
greatest commandment to love God, and that what you do or fail to do for your
neighbor means doing the same to God.”
In
light of these principles, Luther addresses two pitfalls for the Christian. The
first is fleeing the coming sickness at the expense of your neighbor’s good:
“Anyone who…forsakes [his neighbor] and leaves him to his misfortune becomes a
murderer in the sight of God.”
At the moment, it doesn’t appear that this is the temptation we as the church are particularly
susceptible to. If anything, our tendency is toward the second
pitfall Luther addresses—what he describes as “tempting God and disregarding
everything which might counteract death and the plague.”
This
pitfall is unlike the first. It is not characterized by fear and anxiety so
much as callous indifference. It is ignoring that we should, as Luther puts it,
“shun persons and places wherever your neighbor does not need your presence” in
order to halt, or at least slow, the spread of the disease.
Luther
expands on this idea: “I shall avoid places and persons where my presence is
not needed in order not to become contaminated and thus perchance infect and
pollute others, and so cause their death as a result of my negligence.” This is
not the commitment to change your lifestyle ultimately to protect yourself. It
is also not a willingness to change your lifestyle only if and when you know you’ve
been infected. Rather, Luther espouses a commitment to change your lifestyle right now so that you avoid even the chance of unwittingly infecting and
harming others.
Luther
doesn’t use the term “social distancing,” but that is exactly what he is
referring to. And just as he has strong words for those who forsake their
neighbor and flee the plague, so he has strong words for those who fail to isolate
themselves for the good of their neighbor. He says, “[Some] wish to prove how independent they are…[and when they] are so foolish as not to take precautions but aggravate the contagion, then the devil has a heyday and many will die.” He adds that “this is a grievous offense to God and
to man.”
THE
COST OF DISCIPLESHIP
Because
my wife and I have been developing a more neighbor-centric posture in our movie
watching habits, it wasn’t a hard pivot to change our recreational and dining
out habits. Because we had already been preparing our hearts in the realm of
entertainment (where others’ dignity is at stake), it was easier to instigate
new habits in the realm of everyday life (where others’ physical lives are at
stake).
Yes,
social distancing comes at a cost—personal, professional, and financial. It’s
not exactly a walk in the park (figuratively or literally). And yes, social
distancing may seem like a superfluous chore especially if, statistically
speaking, your physical health and strength might render COVID-19 nothing more
than a minor inconvenience.
But
the Christian’s duty is not to bemoan the inconveniences and sacrifices caused
by the (physically) weaker brother or sister. We are not called to despise our
neighbors who are vulnerable, but rather to protect them.
I
recognize that not all sacrifices are created equal. There’s a huge difference
between forgoing a trip to your favorite hamburger joint and forgoing your
original wedding day plans. The former is barely worth mentioning, whereas the
latter involves a justifiable amount of grief and disappointment.
Nevertheless,
we would do well to heed the words and example of the Apostle Paul. In 1
Corinthians 8:1-11:1, he explains that he would rather deny himself the most
innocent luxury—or even what might seem an absolute necessity—for his entire
life rather than lead a weaker brother or sister into sin and spiritual death.
Should this not also hold true for us, in some form or fashion, when others are
dependent upon us to keep from leading physical death to their doorstep?
The
way of the Cross is not to let others die for our convenience. Quite the
opposite. Disciples of Christ are called to take up their cross daily and
follow Him—for love of God and neighbor. With the health and life of others at
stake, surely we can sacrifice some of our freedoms for their benefit. Surely
the little deaths we encounter as the result of lifestyle changes are worth
avoiding the actual and literal death of our neighbors who are weak and sick
and vulnerable.
We
don’t lose our life in order to keep it lost; we lose it in order to find, and
truly enjoy, it. In the counterintuitive economy of the kingdom of God, loss is
often gain—in the long term, at least. Or, to paraphrase the words of our
Savior in Matthew 19:29, anyone who forsakes conferences and parties and eating
out and playdates and sports and frivolous travel shall receive a hundredfold
blessings in return—if not in this life, then in the life to come.