By BitterGrey, for all those in cages.
I was watching Wild America the other day, and later wished to have set the VCR. Marty Stouffer was discussing the life of the North American porcupine. There, in living color, their mating habits were displayed. The male sprayed the female as Marty explained. Instead of using scents or gestures or demonstrations of strength, the male porcupine was evaluated on his ability to urinate on the female. God's creation is sexually a lot weirder than we were led to believe. In humans, this is called urophilia, and some may consider it perverse. But can God forgive the perverted porcupine? After all, being a porcupine is genetic, isn't it?
I'm not a porcupine, but I used to consider myself perverse. I'm infantilistic: There is a persistent, pressing urge to wear diapers. I knew about the birds and the bees from the same reliable sources everyone else learned from. Certainly, the dropped comments and whispered schoolyard jokes had to be correct. Everyone does it like the birds and the bees, except for a few weirdos that are defective somehow. And masturbation will cause you to burn in Hell; bald, blind, and insane. I tried to change, to become normal; again and again and again. I couldn't change who I was. What's worse, I was also Christian. And every Christian knows that no perverts are going to get into heaven. There is only the way of God's creation, as clearly demonstrated by all the creatures: A man and a woman, engaging in intercourse in the fashion introduced to many cultures by missionaries and as described in military or public school sex education films. God can't accept me. I'm going to die and burn: I'm not good enough, and can't get better.
"... And yet, Little Brother, I was born among men, and it was among men that my mother died - in the cages of the King's palace at Oodeypore. ... Yes, I too was born among men. I had never seen the jungle. They fed me behind bars from an iron pan till one night I felt that I was Bagheera - The Panther - and no man's plaything, and I broke that silly lock with one blow of my paw..."-Rudyard Kipling, The Jungle Book
There was no hope, no way to win in my life. I could turn away from God, and so be condemned to Hell. I could try desperately to turn away from my paraphilia as I had so many times before. That never worked. I had to accept with miserable despair that I had lost the game, or that I had the ability to change the rules. When people think about changing life's rules, they might think "So now I can walk through walls?" Of course, they can't. The physical laws aren't going to change no matter what we think. However, we can re- evaluate our conclusions and perceptions. We can't walk through the wall, and we can't open the door because it is locked. Of course it is locked. We know that it is locked. Every experience from our childhood, every word from the preacher, every failed resolution; they all guarantee that it is locked. And yet, there is a small voice that cries out from desperation. An unbelievable hope whispers "Break the lock." It repeats with a persistence that comes from being backed against a brick wall, "Break the lock." By my beliefs, I was unquestionably trapped, locked in my tomb. However, beliefs are not made of steel: They can be broken.
Of course, the only way to tell how strong a lock is to grab it with both hands and twist. The beliefs that lock us in may be based on the most flimsy of structures, they may be weak and unsupported. Of course, if we believe that the lock cannot be broken, we won't try. As a result, that belief alone will make it unbreakable. Typically, people spend several decades trapped in that cell. Doesn't the doorknob deserve quite a few good yanks, and maybe a sledgehammer blow or two? We can't change reality, but we can evaluate our beliefs: We can't walk through walls, but perhaps we can open the door.
But what of God and morality? If the original conclusion is correct, I was hopelessly bound for misery in this life and hell in the next no matter what I did, so altering a few beliefs won't hurt anything - there was nothing to loose. One morning I too felt a dark beast inside me. The hopeless sorrow vented itself in an aggressive and brutal skepticism. I sought to question, to evaluate, to learn, and to study. Is masturbation a sin? Will I burn for my paraphilias? Can God forgive the perverted porcupine? The rumors and hearsay that bound me for so long shattered with a thought ... and a five-year Bible study, and two years of research in the paraphilias.
The thought that broke the lock was the axiom that there must be hope. This wasn't a fact that could be proven, nor a theory that was derived. An axiom is something that is believed because there simply is no other option. Could it be that God will accept the parts of me that I cannot change? Could it be that they actually can be changed? Could it be that God is willing to forgive me my failings even knowing that I will fail again? There is still much to be learned, and the answers might not be absolute. This much I know, that I am BitterGrey; and by the broken lock, I will not be a slave to what mere men think. This much I know, that I am the creation of a God who does not make mistakes; and by the shed blood of Jesus Christ, there is hope and life.
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