"We (rightly) worry and fight against visual pornography. But what about the dangers of pornography of the mind and heart?"
"I watched the pilot episode of Glee when it premiered a few months before the show was to begin airing regularly. It was decent enough to at least give some time to the next few episodes. But by the end of episode two, I was getting a little uneasy. As I watched it, I was becoming aware of what the writers wanted me to feel—the good guy teacher to cheat on his evil wife with the gentle co-worker, and the main male character to cheat on his hypocritical Christian girlfriend with his female lead counterpart.It was one thing to want the characters in the show to do this thing or that, but I turned it off in the middle of a scene in which that male student finally decided to cheat on his girlfriend. It wasn’t because I was offended at the content before my eyes. Rather, in that moment, there was a transference of energy. I found myself thinking about whose girlfriend I should have stolen in high school and how easy and awesome it would have been.
Flash back to Nashville, May of 2009. I’m driving in a rental car, scanning radio stations. I stop on the local Christian station, and the female DJ is talking about the coming The Notebook: The Musical. She goes on to fawn over the romance in the story and how well it will be adapted to the stage. “But what about A Walk To Remember?” she says. “That would make a fantastic musical. I just loved how that made me feel. And, of course, Switchfoot would have to have some songs in it.”
There’s certainly a war against the prevalence of visual pornography in many corners of our society—especially in the Christian culture. There is an attempt to expose pornography for its promotion of unrealistic sexual expectations and exploitation of human sexuality. And that attempt is a very necessary one.
But what about the unhealthy emotional and relational expectations portrayed in so much of our media? Is there really much of a difference in the hyperbolized sexual imagery of typical pornography and the hyperbolized momentary emotional high felt in a romance film or romantic comedy that sends us looking for a “love” that doesn’t exist?
I heard an interview on NPR with a female author named Elizabeth Gilbert. She was talking about the proliferation of the “Soul Mate Complex” in our modern culture and how the film Jerry Maguire served to reinforce it with the now illustrious line, "You complete me.”
It’s not necessarily only the resulting effects of such a movie that parallels the traditional definition of pornography. Just as there is sexual excitement surrounding the mystery and allure of what flesh might be seen in a movie known for its racy reputation, so too are we drawn in with an anticipation for the emotional and physical high of a romance film.
As a result, we’re taught to crave the moment of romantic ecstasy or to live for the wedding day. We’re raised to think these are the real stories of love and relationship, and we’re confused when they are so few and far between that we aren’t sustained. So we turn back to that which led us to believe in this fantasy all along. And we’re left with an old woman sitting alone, in her love seat, in front of the television watching her “stories.”
Kids eventually understand that pumpkins don’t turn to glass carriages and Fairy Godmothers don’t grant wishes, but many girls never grow out of the idea that one day they will be rescued from reality by some magic and a fictitious prince. And little boys never live up to the fantasy of the mind or that they’re supposed to be that prince and that their spouse is an all-fulfilling princess.
Next time you’re thinking about seeing a movie, be aware of what’s pulling you toward it. If you decide to watch it, recognize the moment when you feel the emotional reinforcement of fake love. And when you walk out, recognize what you now hope for and expect.
There is such a thing as love. There are beautiful moments. But love is about life. And life is about the long haul."
