The Problem with Zombie Sex

By Gina Parris

“Wow, “ Paul said, “There is a magazine for every single possible subject.”

We had stopped in the store to grab a greeting card, but the rack behind us caught our attention.

I picked up a magazine completely devoted to zombies. Flipping through the pages, I felt slightly nauseated by the gory images. I didn’t know if I should laugh or groan.

I looked at my husband and made a face. He shrugged and reached for a familiar Muscle and Fitness.

I walked out thinking of zombies and modern culture. Hmmmm. If you are a fan of gory fantasy, more power to you. It’s just that most of my mindset triggers back to the bedroom and well, this reminds me of a problem:

Zombie sex.

I don’t mean gruesome monster -acts where a bloody creature bites you and you turn into a zombie. No. I’m pretty out of the loop on such things, but for all I know, that kind of weird fantasy is probably in vogue somewhere.

No, this true pandemic is zombie sex of a different nature.

It’s homo-sapien sex all right, but void of passion and pleasure and connection.

Zombie-sex is love-making without the love. The only thing in the making then, is stress and frustration.

Modern zombie sex is what happens when people are not connected to their true essence or to their spouse. It’s empty.

Can passion be revived in this case?

Yes!

Let’s take some action against the death-blows.

Here is Rule #1:

Love without Passion is NOT an option.

When your intimate life is suffering, your whole life is suffering, so it’s time to shake off the zombie and make a move:

1. Wake it Up

Wake up your masculine or your feminine passion. Stand in your strength. Revel in your beauty. Get in touch with your senses and look at what is right instead of what is wrong with your mate, your body, your life. Something is worth celebrating. Get in touch with whatever that is.

2. Shake it Up

Shake Up your routine. It’s been said that a rut is just a grave with both ends kicked out. What rut are you in? Climb out. Do something TODAY that will shake up your routine. You can start with something as simple as your diet, your exercise routine, your surroundings, your wardrobe. Become more congruent with who you really want to be.

Then change the approach you make towards your mate. Be sexy. Be seductive. Expect something good to happen and get comfortable with being uncomfortable!

Challenging the status quo in the most intimate part of your life is a little scary. It’s not safe, but neither is wasting away in an unconscious stupor.

Shake it up. There’s an erotic break-through across that threshold of “comfort.”

3. Make it Up

Throw away the old script about how sex is boring and your mate is unadventurous. Throw away the script that says sex always happens in this order just like last time. You really might be boring your mate to tears. Make up a new story. Play a new role. Get intimate. Be present and try something different than last time.

How?

You can focus on pleasure. You can focus on breathing. Yes, breathing. Try this:

Sit across from your mate and place your right hand on each other’s heart. Then look into each other’s eyes as you synchronize your deep breathing. Look for that soul that you fell in love with. See into their heart. You might find this moment more intimate than sex.

Make up your own happy ending and be open to following a connection that goes someplace you did not expect.

If you do these things, you will start to rekindle the passion.

What is Rule #2?

That would be to refer back to Rule #1:

Love without passion is NOT an option.

Neither sex like a zombie.

Now get after it!

I believe in you.

James over the past several months has become a very dear friend of mine and I am extremely thankful for this guest post he has done here on the The Whiskey Preacher! You can listen to James’ podcast interview he did with me some months back entitled, Gay Conversations With God. Be sure to also checkout James’ website, Gay Conversations!

A Bridge to Impossible Shores
By James Langteaux

Today I have been thinking a lot about shapeshifting.

For those of you who haven’t been schooled in the dark arts, shapeshifting is that unique spiritual gift (usually a gift employed by witches, warlocks and the occasional Greek god or Disney character) whereby a person can change his identity or gender, or even species if the need arises.

Earlier this morning I was reading a post by a good friend, Chad Estes, who had quoted something I had said recently in the L.A. Weekly about living in congruence – the idea where you may live authentically in every area of your life, where you can live the way you were meant to – right out in the open and in the light. To live a life of love and a life that is fully free.

Chad went on to say that if I had spoken this from a pulpit most Christians would stand and applaud and shout ‘amen’ but because I had written it for an L.A. Weekly story during Gay Pride week, it will go unnoticed from the church going crowd.

It was then that my yearning for the gift of shapeshifting took full form.

I had lived in the Christian world hiding the gay card up my sleeve for many years. I’m not foolish enough (or maybe butch enough) to believe that I had anyone really fooled. I just employed the, “Don’t ask don’t tell” strategy to my advantage – enabling me to move in and out of gay and Christian circles without too much trouble. I was doing a little modified shape shifting – maybe being a little more Christian sounding in some circles and a little more gay in others. Rarely would the worlds collide – and I worked really hard on making that game a reality. Often with good results, taking a little Jesus to people who hated that name and taking a little love and compassion to the people who hated the gays.

But after busting out of the stuffy closet on April Fools Day – with an obnoxious little book called Gay Conversations with God – I realized that now its impossible for me to do the gay-straight two step. I’m now all decked out in a gay ball gown and I can’t really go back. At first, I was thrilled by this idea. To never have to deal with narrow minded Christians ever again! I win!!

But that isn’t what Jesus did. He experienced no end of frustration with the religious bigots and judgmental goons who surrounded him. I’m sure there was even a small child singing “ain’t no homo gonna make it in to heaven” from the temple steps, way back then.

But Jesus didn’t toss this difficult lot to the wind.

He continued to love. And He worked really hard at being a bridge to impossible shores – modeling authentic love to the religious, by loving outcasts, sinners and whores.

He even did His own share of shapeshifting – when the religious crowds were ready to stone him or knock him off a cliff, he just shifted shape and eluded their attack. How amazingly cool is that?

So, today I wish I had the shapeshifting gift. Not because I’m being backed to the edge of a giant ravine, but because I have a message of love for the religious, the haters and the flamboyant drag queens.

I want to reach them all, but I feel limited by my new gay label and that label makes me feel small. Oh to be able to be all things to all men – living incongruently when needed so I could make my enemies my friends.

Then it hit me.

There is no need for a pity party. We all are limited by our current shapes. When an amazing corpulent pastor tries to share the love of God with a fitness bastard – he is judged. “How can you tell me how to live when you can’t even control your weight?” Dismissed in an instant because of his shape.

Or tattoos, piercings and unusual attire. Dismissed. Ignored or even fired.

Judgment extends well beyond being gay. And shape shifting is a gift that I just don’t have today. And you probably don’t either.

So as much as I wish I could stand in front of a church filled with haters and fools – a group of people who ignore the great command to love – while embracing all of their rules –

I know that I must do my part with the tribe I have been called to reach. I must live congruently in my new shape – and authentically love from my core –the group of people God has placed in my care. Even if many of us are just outcasts and whores.

And I will call on my brothers and sisters who have a more acceptable shape – one that is welcomed in churches with judgmental pastors and mean old gay bashers, to carry Jesus’ message of authentic love for ALL of his kids.

No matter their shape.

Will you help me be a bridge to impossible shores? We have a giant chasm that lies between judgment and grace and so little time to live outside of our authentic shapes.

Whatever those shapes may happen to be – our authentic love, HIS authentic love – flowing through our crazy, current shape – will help set captives free.

i co-pastor the refuge, an eclectic beautiful faith community in north denver, juggle 5 kids & an awesome husband who has a bunch of jobs, too. i’m an advocate for friends in hard places, a trained spiritual director (one who’s a little on the loud side) & love to teach and facilitate events, workshops, and groups. i write a little, hang out with people a lot, and teach college classes online because missional living doesn’t pay the bills.

these all blend together and make for one messy life in the trenches with people.

i’m most passionate about community, the marginalized, healing, spiritual transformation, equality, justice, “church”, relationships, diversity, and learning to love and be loved.

You can visit Kathy’s website by clicking here!

Missional Pastoring Head Rattles: By Kathy Escobar

I never set out to be a pastor. In all kinds of ways, this way of living came to me. 24 years ago, when I graduated from college, if someone would have told me I’d be a co-pastor of a small, poor missional community, I would have laughed in their face.. I was on the fast track to a successful business career, having finished my master’s degree and in a job that was centered on climbing the corporate ladder. I dreamed of a cushy life where I didn’t have to worry about money and had a lot of people who did my dirty work for me.

Yeah, God had another plan.

Through many twists and turns he got hold of my heart, first radically redeeming my own painful story and then giving me a passion to play a part in others’ healing, too.

About 8 years ago, I entered into full-time pastoral ministry. I had a position on a mega-church staff making good money with nice benefits. I had an administrative assistant and support people who helped make life run smoothly.

Then, 6 years ago we planted The Refuge, our wild and beautiful faith community that teaches me more than I ever bargained for. Yeah, I don’t have an administrative assistant, a good salary, or “all kinds of people to keep my life running smoothly.” In fact, it’s about as far from that as I can possibly imagine–terrible salary, no benefits, and far more needs than resources.

But it’s also more beautiful than I could have ever dreamed.

It’s also been one of the hardest things I have ever done.

Missional/incarnational pastoring has required me to give my heart in ways I wasn’t used to giving. It has required me to have trust that I wasn’t used to having. It has forced me to let go of things I used to tightly grip. It’s caused me to go a little crazy and become a little more sane.

These are some of the things that rattle around in my head a lot as a missional pastor: (I am guessing some of you can relate).

• “How in the $*#^!%@! did I end up here?” – Seriously, how did I somehow go from corporate business manager to stay-at-home mommy to poor missional pastor? Even when we started The Refuge, I pictured things so much easier, neater, tidier. I pictured more help, more stability, more all-kinds-of-things. I never imagined this much relationship or this much raw, real life. I never imagined I’d be 45 years old and make less money than I did when I was 21. I never imagined I’d care this much about people and change.

• “please God, please God, please God.” – Every day I cry out to God on behalf of my friends. I beg. I plead. I question. I pray like a crazy woman. Often, it feels like everywhere I look I see loneliness, doubt, fear, shame, and practical struggles. I have friends who can’t get a break, no matter how hard they try, with systems of injustice bent against them. I often feel desperate for God to show up, to heal, to restore, to move, to do something–anything–that will bring a sliver of hope or peace.

• “God, grant me the serenity….” The Serenity Prayer saves me over and over again out here. Missional pastoring and unhealthy codependence can easily go hand and hand. Breaking free of controlling others, people pleasing, or having a savior complex is our only hope. Staying in recovery helps me live in that tension in a more healthy way, but it’s always a tricky dance. I continue to learn what it means to accept the things that I can’t change and ask God for courage to change the things I can.

• “How can we get more people to help us?” – Out of almost everything about the past 6 years, the hardest thing is not having more people to help do the tough, on-going work of extending Christ’s love, mercy & compassion in tangible ways. The people who are part of our community are awesome, so willing to love and help, but the reality is that there have never been enough of us to share the load properly. The needs far outweigh the haves. We long for people who would come stay and really play. And more people who may not be able to be part in-the-flesh but will at least help us fund the work we are doing.

But despite these things that rattle around in my head about how hard missional/incarnational pastoring really is, there’s one thought that outweighs them all:

“That was one of the prettiest things I’ve ever seen”

Yeah, I can’t tell you the number of nights I go to bed with a smile on my face, thinking of a holy moment that happened that day–where someone received God’s love through someone else, where hope pierced through the darkness, where dignity was restored, where shame’s power was broken, where love conquered hate, where community won out over isolation.

Without these moments, I would have walked away a long time ago.

They are sustaining.

They are reminders that Jesus heals in all kinds of wild and mysterious ways.

They keep me going for another day, another month, another year.

They make this so worth it.

Hello, my name is John Jensen. With my wife Raquel, and my daughters Ade and Cheyenne, I have been creating and taking part in small communities of faith, mostly among those that do not fit into our normal traditional Christian boxes. Our current community is in Long Beach California. We have found these communities of those that are radically diverse, and committed to a bottom up empowering of people in all of the social fabric, have had a transformative effect on our life, and that of those around us. My website johnthereverend.com has many similar articles, as well as occasional videos, hope you will join the discussion.

Theological Bullshit

My pedigree is pretty strong in the “emerging church” world. Though I may not have any degrees, my wife and I were on the vanguard of this brave new world where art, post modernity and mission were innersecting. I was on staff with a missions and church consulting agency that was helping churches prepare for this changing landscape long before the discussion of “emerging” was even in the public square. Our first youth ministry was way outside the box, and our first church plant “the belonging” was surprisingly influential. The third church plant we worked with was written about in The Shaping of Things to Come.


Long before people were writing books for and against the emerging church, we were living something radically different, and continue to do so. There are many people that are very well respected authors and conference speakers that were part of this conversation way back in the day.


I think however we have gone in two directions. We have either gone in the direction of “emerging church is a style” or “emerging church is a ideology” The one looks at, how we can do things better to reach our goal of saving the lost. The other is more about challenging the thoughts and theologies of the traditional church.



I want to speak a bit about the second part. I admit, I may come across as a bitter, under educated and anti education guy, but hey, I might be a bitter, under educated and anti education guy!


What I have begun to see more and more commonly among this circle, is theological mumbo jumbo. This tendency to come up with the most extreme, shocking, or mystical ideas and to throw them around as some testimony as to how unique and non traditional we are. To show how our post modern deconstruction of the faith has allowed us to embrace all kinds of thoughts. And to escape any real critique because… it isn’t really about right and wrong, black or white, it is all about the wrestling, the journey.

Well, this is where I get to my title. I am more and more convinced that any ideology, any theology, any Christology that does not have flesh on it, is quite frankly bullshit. As much as I find the clever rhetoric to be a bit too cool for my tastes, Peter Rollins is quite correct when he said, “I deny the resurrection of Christ every day I do not serve at the feet of the oppressed, every time I turn my back on the poor”. This infatuation with coming up with all kinds of deep and meaningful ways of deconstructing scripture, pontificating upon abstract concepts, and creating “conversations about God”, is basically bullshit if it doesn’t actually cause us to become part of the way.


The early church was not known by its beliefs. The truth was that by the Nicean council the church was incredibly diverse in its theology, if a bit less so in its structure. But what it was fairly united in, was the way in which it lived. It was the Way. They cared for not only their own sick and poor, but those of the Romans. They were good news to the poor and the marginalized. They were devout in their generousity, and scandalous in their equality. They stood against the tyranny and oppression of both religion and state. They would often fast not for spiritual reasons, but so that the money they saved in not eating could be used to buy a community member out of slavery.


So as fascinating as some of the differnent theories of atonement might be, as interesting as a study of what heaven may be like, and as unique as some post modern take on St. Pauls scribbles in the public toilet in alexandria might be…


If it doesn’t result in love, especially for the least of these, then it’s a banging gong, a noisy symbol, it is in fact just theological bullshit


rev

Harley Mathews bio:
Along with my wife, i co-pastor The Brewery, a multi-faith community in Corpus Christi, Texas. Along with heavy arts involvement, we attempt to practice the spiritual discipline of “giving a shit”, since 2008. I also am a huge Boston Celtics fan and comic book collector.


Ministering Through Pain:
When Family Ties turn into Nooses.