Five Learning To Live Without Lust
Share
This resource is exclusive for PLUS Members
Upgrade now and receive:
- Ad-Free Experience: Enjoy uninterrupted access.
- Exclusive Commentaries: Dive deeper with in-depth insights.
- Advanced Study Tools: Powerful search and comparison features.
- Premium Guides & Articles: Unlock for a more comprehensive study.
Jesus is teaching about the difference between inner and outer right-eousness, and on becoming a new kind of person in the kingdom of God. Jesus is most concerned with the heart, particularly with developing a good heart. A good heart is free from objectification for the sake of self-gratification. In the kingdom of God we are being transformed into a new kind of person, based on our new identity as “one indwelt by Christ.” Such persons will develop inner character that is not dominated by sexual desire.
In Jesus’ day adultery was defined as sexual contact between persons, at least one of whom is married, who are not married to each other. The difference between our day and Jesus’ day is that adultery was applied almost exclusively to women. A man, even a married man, could have sex with other women, including slaves and prostitutes. But a woman was allowed to have sex with her husband alone. The charge of adultery usually resulted in the execution of the accused woman. But in Matthew 5:27-30 Jesus is speaking directly to men.
Jesus explains to men that epithumia is a form of adultery. In adultery sexual desire triumphs over a person’s commitments. Adultery implies, “Fulfilling my desire is more important than fulfilling my commitment. I don’t care if I hurt others; right now all I care about is me.” The same is true of lust: valuing the other as a sacred being is tossed aside. Jesus brilliantly gets to the heart of the matter. He invites us into the kingdom in order to become new people—people who value and respect others.
Some women have told me that they think epithumia is strictly a male problem: “I don’t objectify men’s body parts; I don’t look at men to cultivate lustful feelings.” But I believe that while there are women who do not lust the same way, they still wrestle with epithumia. It just gets expressed differently. (Please note that what I am about to say is not true of all women, just as it is not true of all men.)
Epithumia usually involves objectifying a body. But it can also involve objectifying a persona. While some women do not struggle with objectifying male bodies, they do struggle with objectifying a man’s persona. Take, for example, romance novels or chick flicks. A lonely and misunderstood woman is rescued by a man (“Dirk” or “Brock”) who whisks her away on his white horse (think Cinderella and you have the plot of 90 percent of romance novels). The man whispers into her ear that she is the woman of his dreams and he will love, care for and protect her forever.
Women are fulfilling emotional needs—to feel loved and valued, to feel special and sacred—through romance novels. Dirk provides that feeling. But Dirk is not real. And therein lays the problem. He is a fantasy. He is an object worth a second, third and fourth look. There is no interaction, no intimacy, no relationship, no mutual enhancement. The reader is simply fantasizing because it feels good.
I once remarked to a class of graduate students that I thought romance novels were a female version of porn. Most of the women were shocked at the comparison. But a few months later an older, single woman said to me, “When you compared romance novels to porn I was really offended because I read a lot of those novels. But I started to think about what you said, about objectifying the persona, which is really epithumia, and I realized you are right. I have a secret stash of my favorite romance novels, and they are all dog-eared at the juiciest parts so I could take a second look.” Dirk is really no different than the centerfold; it’s just that one is mental and other is visual.
If you are a woman who does not read romance novels or watch a lot of chick flicks, you may be thinking, Once again, this does not relate to me. But have you ever thought about how so-and-so has “the perfect husband” or “the ideal boyfriend”? Do you ever fantasize about the man of your dreams? This can be a form of epithumia.
Finally, many women struggle with Internet pornography. And some women are deeply troubled by how much they think about and desire sex. The point is that both men and women struggle with epithumia. The good news is that the solution to the problem is for both men and women.
In the kingdom of God we learn a new set of stories. As we live in the kingdom we learn that God is good, and we learn to see everything through God’s eyes. Living in the kingdom, and thereby changing our false narratives to kingdom narratives, is the solution to overcoming epithumia. Too many people repeatedly try—and fail—to deal with lust through their willpower and tearful prayers but find no genuine change. We cannot change our heart by changing outer behavior alone. This is why Jesus spoke about plucking out our eye when it offends us.
Jesus was not speaking literally but was using a rhetorical device called reductio ad absurdum, meaning to reduce the argument to its logical absurdity. He was attacking the commonly held notion that sin resides in the offending part of the body. This is why some cultures cut off the hand of a thief. They reason: cut off the sinful part, and the sin will be gone. “If your right eye causes you to sin,” Jesus says, “tear it out.”
As Dallas Willard often jokes, “Jesus is not here advocating that we cut off every offending part so we can roll into heaven as a bloody stump!” He is taking their logic to that absurd conclusion. The problem is not in our hand or our eye—the lust is in our heart. To be sure, our body is involved in the act, but the real culprit is inward, in the imagination, in the heart. I lust—or cultivate lust (epithumia)—when I feel empty and have nowhere to put my strong desires. When I am not in close union with God and his kingdom, I have a void in my soul. I want to feel something, to be caught up in something, and when I am disconnected from God and his kingdom, one of the most thrilling alternatives is epithumia.
Epithumia allows me to feel a very strong and good sensation. But like the Turkish Delight candy in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, it does not satisfy but leaves us wanting more. The desire is so strong that we are prepared to do anything to have it. How does living in the kingdom of God help? When we are properly connected to God and his kingdom we find that the void is filled.
Living in the kingdom is like an adventure. I never know how and when God is going to work in my life, but God always seems to do something at the right time, in the right way. Not long ago I was working on a ministry project that was on the edge of failure. At precisely the right moment a new opportunity and new resources were made available. All I could do was smile. Working with God and his kingdom has been like that for me over and over.
In the kingdom we know who we are and whose we are. The need to feel loved, to be important, and to be sacred and special is met in our oneness with Christ. When I set my heart on things above (the kingdom) I discover that I am part of something thrilling and exciting—the divine conspiracy—and everywhere I turn God is at work. Now I have the drama I seek, and I have a place to channel my energies. Rob Bell observes,
Finally, because I know who I am and am secure (God is good and desires my good) I am free to see others in a new way. I no longer see them as objects to exploit but as real persons who God dearly loves.
Joy. Gratitude. Thanksgiving. Grace. These are kingdom words. When we live with God in his kingdom, we begin to love our life. Rob Bell says this is essential when dealing with epithumia: “Gratitude is so central to the life God made us for. Until we can center ourselves on what we do have, on what God has given us, on the life we do get to live, we’ll constantly be looking for another life.” Lust is really about spiritual hunger for God and his kingdom. Therefore our sexual problems are resolved when we enroll as Jesus’ apprentices in his glorious kingdom.
When I was in college, professor Richard Foster used a triangle diagram to answer essentially the same question my son had: What is the appropriate level of physical intimacy? Or how far is too far? The diagram helped me a great deal, and I hoped it would help my son. Imagine a triangle with one angle at the top. The two sides rising from the base represent two aspects of a relationship: one, the level of commitment, and the other, the level of physical intimacy. The base of the triangle represents a relationship with no physical intimacy and no commitment.
As the level of commitment rises, so can the level of physical intimacy. The point of the diagram is to illustrate that physical intimacy must be matched by an appropriate level of commitment. On a first or second date, for example, there is very little commitment, so kissing is not appropriate. But as the commitment level rises, the level of intimacy can rise as well because each person has been properly valued.
Think about people who engage in sexual activity without any commitment. They are diminished by it. Ask them later (especially as they are about to marry someone else) about their past, and inevitably they will feel regret, remorse or even shame. Something important transpires between sexually intimate persons. And that is the genius of Richard’s triangle: we are sacred beings and should treat one another as such. Where the two sides come together at the top illustrates that the highest act of physical intimacy—sexual intercourse—can only be sustained by the highest level of commitment—marriage.
The triangle illustrates something else that many Christians need to hear. Not all physical intimacy in developing relationships is evil and should be forbidden. I knew a guy in college who said he was not going to kiss his girlfriend until they were married. While the intention may be honorable, in reality it is not healthy. And it can lead to a very negative view of sexuality. A couple shared with me that when they went to Christian camps as teenagers they were told that all physical intimacy was sinful. Each year camp speakers would say they had given up dating and would not touch their spouse-to-be until their wedding night. They were lauded as role models. As a result, the teens were sent a clear message: physical intimacy is taboo. The couple said very honestly, “When we got engaged and then married, we had a hard time expressing physical intimacy because all we heard for years was the narrative, ‘Sex is bad and evil. So save it for marriage!’”
I shared the illustration with my son because I wanted to show him that physical intimacy is a good thing between people who are committed to each other. Nevertheless, the vast majority of sexual failure happens when physical intimacy exceeds commitment. But that does not mean we ought to abandon physical intimacy altogether. Within proper boundaries, it is a God-given gift to be treasured.
I remember performing the wedding of a committed and loving Christian couple. During premarital counseling the woman shared, with her fiancé present, “My fiancé had sexual intercourse with several women in his past. This hurt me because I saved myself for him. But he did that when he was young, and he has changed since he began following Christ. And we have waited until marriage. But I have to tell you that one day while praying about it, I realized that I will have to deal with that fact forever. That is a part of his soul.” Her words are very instructive. We are not just dealing with bodies but also with our souls. That is why this is such an important subject.
A few days after our talk I asked my son, “So, did you kiss that girl?” I had been careful not to give him a strict rule, but to allow him to figure it out on his own. Rules are easily rebelled against; wisdom is much better.
“Nah.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“The reason I asked you was because some of the kids at school were all saying it was cool just to kiss someone for fun, and one guy teased me because I hadn’t kissed a girl yet. But it didn’t seem right just to do it. The triangle thing made sense. I am not committed to her, and I don’t know her very well.”
I was so proud of him. He was so wise for his age. I would like to take some credit, but I think he wouldn’t have kissed even if we had not talked. There is one thing I am sure that Jacob knows: Christ dwells in him. I have been telling him that (well, the Holy Spirit has) since he was young. The fact that he said, “it didn’t seem right,” led me to believe he would have made the right decision, not because of a rule or a law but because he knows who he is. He didn’t need the triangle, but now he has it in his mind. When he goes on dates now my wife says to him, “Remember the triangle.” We all smile.
Over the years I have worked with many people, mostly men, who have struggled with epithumia. Their stories are painful and their anguish is very real. They say things like, “I want more than anything to change.” And yet, they come back again and again saying, “I still keep failing.” Some, however, come back and share that they have seen real change in their life, that they are no longer dominated by sexual desires. What made the difference? Is there any common denominator between those who find freedom and those who don’t?
To put it simply: We must really want to change. I know this sounds simplistic and even harsh to those who fail. “But I do want to change! How dare you say I don’t!” When I have probed deeply into the person’s heart, I have discovered that they do not really want to change; they merely dislike the consequences of the failure (the guilt, the embarrassment, the shame). In order to find freedom from lust a person must really be sick of it and understand its nature. Many have said they wanted to change, but in reality they nurse a love of lust. Promises, pledges and resolutions are no match for a heart that secretly cherishes sin and merely dislikes its consequences.
Those who have overcome epithumia have exposed it for what it is: a false and short-lived feeling of pleasure that ultimately harms life. We can begin to change only when we see epithumia for what it is. Then we need to cultivate something else in its place: a strong sense of our worth, love and appreciation for life in the kingdom, and healthy relationships that bring us the intimacy we long for. Then we find freedom. If you struggle with this, be encouraged. Countless people have overcome it.
Begin by praying for the desire to change. Ask God to instill wisdom to see epithumia for what it is. Pray for a strong desire for purity. This powerful prayer is often the first step toward real and lasting change.
In this chapter we have discussed how sexually saturated our culture is. This week I am asking you to consider fasting from all media for two days. This will be challenging, but don’t be alarmed: so far no one has died from it. The forty-eight-hour media fast includes
What will you do with your time? How will you entertain yourself? Try playing a board game or card game with your friends. Read a book. One young woman said, “I probably spend four to five hours a day on MySpace and Facebook, so with all of that free time I ended up reading two books I have been wanting to read. It was great. And I didn’t miss a thing by not going on-line for forty-eight hours.”
Take a walk, get coffee with friends, exercise. You are beginning to change your mind (metanoia), which has been filled with false narratives about who you are and what life is about. For forty-eight hours free your mind from the junk; give some space to the Holy Spirit to renew your thinking. This is your way of saying, “I am not under the dominion of media. I am going to show that I can live without it.”
Though no one has died or been harmed by this exercise, it still may be a challenge. One young man said the temptation to check his Facebook page is the most difficult and painful thing he has faced in his Christian life. But he learned he can do it. He said, “So I figured, if I can say no to that—which was really, really tempting—then I can say no to the temptation of epithumia.” Brilliant connection! Some people think overcoming lust is impossible, as if it were as strong and compelling as gravity. But it isn’t. We choose to engage in epithumia, just as we choose to spend four hours in chat rooms or watching movies. We can say no!