Exploring the Connections between God and Sex

Rob Bell’s latest book is called Sex God. Yes,–Sex God. The seemingly blasphemous title alone is enough to send any conservative running for the hills.
In his first ground-breaking book, Velvet Elvis, author and pastor Rob Bell invites people to repaint the Christian faith tradition, an imperative in an ever-changing world. In his sophomore work, Bell kicks it up a notch by touching on the taboo subject of sexuality. As the title of his introduction says, “This is really about that.”

Though the connection between sexuality and spirituality is not a new idea, it is not a very popular one. Sex is often confined to the physical realm and is stigmatically viewed as nothing more than an urge of the flesh. In a more transcendental context, sexuality symbolizes unity, balance, and symbiosis. But sex transcends both the carnal and the natural. In a word, sex is connection.
In Genesis, the text describes how the first man would be united to his wife and they would become one flesh. One flesh. In case you missed it, this means sex. But the text continues, “The man and his wife were both naked, and they felt no shame.” The word naked here means more than being in a state of undress. One definition of naked is to be, “devoid of concealment or disguise.” To be naked means to be exposed, to be free from inhibition, to let it all hang loose. Being naked is being yourself, your true self. Do you have a circle of friends who accept you just as you are, who allow you to be you, around whom you can be naked? If so, you know exactly what it means to be naked and feel no shame.

When the man and woman disrespected God by eating the fruit, a strange thing happened. They developed the urge to sew. They created clothes. The man donned an organic G-string, while the woman sported the first-ever fig-leaf bikini bottom. Sin brought shame and led them to cover themselves. But why cover those parts, in particular? Those parts represented their connection. Covering, or perhaps hiding, the parts of their bodies that were the most intimate with each other revealed a tragic change in their relationship. They no longer could be naked with each other. They lost their connection.
When God visits the garden shortly after their transgression, the man’s and woman’s reaction is to run and hide. Their connection with God is so severely damaged that they cannot even bear to be in his presence. They communicate with God by yelling to him from behind a tree.

In the Bible, God often takes the tone of a jilted lover, betrayed by his adulterous (i.e., idolatrous) people. He even instructs the prophet Hosea to marry a prostitute who continually cheats on him with other men, as a living example of this broken state.

The point of the Bible, though, is not lamentation but restoration. To illustrate the process of restoring our severed connection with God, Bell alludes to a common childhood memory: the dreaded junior high school dance. He painfully recalls how he bravely traversed the cavernous ravine made by the wall of boys on one side and the wall of girls on the other side to ask a girl to dance. With the eyes of every person in the cafeteria-turned-dance hall burning into him, he asks her, “Will you dance with me?” Vulnerability. Helplessness. Nakedness.

Her reply? She ran and hid. That’s right. She burst into tears and stayed in the bathroom the rest of the night. Rejection. Humiliation. Heartbreak.
In the person of Jesus, God crossed that ravine of separation due to sin to repair the broken connection with his creation. By offering himself to us, Jesus put himself completely into our hands. He relinquished all control and authority, and gave us the power and freedom to accept him or refuse him. He went down on one knee, presented his ring and asked, “Will you marry me? Will you be mine forever?” He became naked for us.

Our reply? Jesus nailed to the cross. Rejection. Humiliation. Divine heartbreak.
Our gut reaction to Jesus’ vulnerability is shame. We burst into tears and hide in the bathroom. We yell to him from behind trees. We build walls and shields that make us insensitive to our guilt and to God’s love. We also fail at being truly intimate with other people. We wear invisible armor that isolates us from everything and everyone.

But Jesus’ offer still stands. He is still on one knee, ring in hand, hoping for a “yes.” He asks, “Are you ready to come out of the bathroom or from behind the tree and reconnect with me? Do you desire intimacy with me? Are you willing to get naked with me?”

God wants us. He wants us body and soul. He passionately desires us. He wants intimacy with us forever. In the correct context, a physical, sexual encounter can be the most powerful, beautiful and liberating act experienced between two people. Some believe it represents the truest form of intimacy possible between the Creator and his creation. Could this be a glimpse of heaven? Could this be true spirituality?