It's Easier to Hate Them

Isaiah 64: "Do not be angry beyond measure, O Lord, Neither remember iniquity forever"

I feel that way some times. About my own problems, that is. "Please don't remember that I lied. Please don't hold my selfishness against me. Please don't hate me forever."

But then when I meet other women who suffer because of the men in their lives, well, then I want God to be holy pissed off and burn their houses down. Burn 'em up! Destroy the mean horrible selfish b*******!

There's a girl I've had the pleasure of meeting and I recognized something special about her the day I met her. She's beautiful and kind, thoughtful and hard-working. She's inviting and non-judgmental and has everything in the world going for her. She has her degree and is well-traveled. And is working at a strip club. For about $100 a night. And sleeping with some of the guys she meets.

I can't make sense of it. I try to understand the mainstream attitude of strip clubs--it's just fun, the girls make good money, there's nothing wrong with it. I even hear the characters on one of my favorite tv sitcoms Friends talk about strip clubs fairly often. It's light-hearted and humorous banter. But I don't see any of the female stars working there. Why not? For all that isn't so bad about them, what's right with these "clubs"?

Rob Bell talks about the value of people in his book Sex God and how there is a part of every person who knows that harming another is inherently wrong. He says it's because we're made in the image of God.

So would that be enough for my friend? If she knew she was made in God's image (which she kind of already believes in a Hindu/yoga/goddess type way) would that be enough to keep her from dancing? And why does it bother me SO MUCH that she's working there?

That serial rapist/killer told James Dobson that pornography is what slowly hardened his heart so that he no longer saw women as people, but as objects.

And that's when it hits me: how much I detest men who refuse to acknowledge the inherent value in themselves. Because it must be a man who so loathes his own self that he would make women worthless.

So does Hugh Hefner despise himself? Hard to say. I think most of the porn kings do hate themselves. So what with these decent guys my friend finds at these clubs? She likes them and defends their honor even.

And for some reason this is why I hate her father. I don't know him. I don't even know if he's still living. And I regret saying hate, because I can't really hate someone who already hates himself--I have too much sorrow for him. But I am mad. Angry. A little bit seething.

And how did I, a girl with a very strained relationship with her own father, end up with a clear sense of some value above stripping? Is that the Jesus in me? Will Jesus help my friend, then? Will He please make her new and show her the inherent value and worth and beauty within because of her true Father?

I don't know why I think my sin is less evil than the porn kings. I want to say that there is something so inherently wrong with destroying another's value, that the demeaning of another, weaker vessel is past punishment. But then I think of how I devalue those I lie to. How I wounded my younger sisters when they were younger and weaker and looked up to me. How I may not be selling porn, but I sure as heck do my own part to scar and destroy others.

And so I agree with Isaiah. Good, kind, wise Isaiah. Please don't remember iniquity forever. Because if they have a chance, then so do I. And if I have a chance, then so does my friend. And I want more than anything for her to have a chance.