what I'm reading: the ethics of elfland

The fairy tales rounded in me two convictions; first, that this world is a wild and startling place, which might have been quite different, but which is quite delightful; second, that before this wildness and delight one may well be modest and submit to the queerest limitations of so queer a kindness.

Fairy tales teach us amazement and gratitude. So said Chesterton. I think he's right.

The world should astound and delight us. It doesn't have to be the way it is. The sun's rising, the green of leaves: every day they should break upon us with with fresh astonishment.

That was the first lesson from fairytales. Here's the second:

The second great principle of the fairy philosophy is that the vision always hangs upon a veto. All the dizzy and colossal things conceded depend upon one small thing withheld. All the wild and whirling things that are let loose depend upon one thing that is forbidden.

In the fairy tale an incomprehensible happiness rests upon an incomprehensible condition. A box is opened, and all evils fly out. A word is forgotten, and cities perish. A lamp is lit, and love flies away. A flower is plucked, and human lives are forfeited.

An apple is eaten, and the hope of God is gone.

Such, it seemed, was the joy of man, either in elfland or on earth; the happiness depended on not doing something which you could at any moment do and which, very often, it was not obvious why you should not do. 

Here's how he applies this principle to sex:

I give one ethical instance to show my meaning. I could never mix in the common murmur of that rising generation against monogamy, because no restriction on sex seemed so odd and unexpected as sex itself.

Keeping to one woman is a small price for so much as seeing one woman.

To complain that I could only be married once was like complaining that I had only been born once. It was incommensurate with the terrible excitement of which one was talking. It showed, not an exaggerated sensibility to sex, but a curious insensibility to it.

Polygamy is a lack of the realization of sex; it is like a man plucking five pears in mere absence of mind.

biblical womanhood (5a) purity and lust

A few years ago, I was in a remote part of the world, alone with the owner of an idyllic island. As the days went by, he became more attentive and more attractive. It was an extremely pleasant sensation. I was enjoying myself greatly. My work required me to be there and my head insisted that I was above temptation. But I'm not. The Bible tells me so.

Consequently I knew I must leave urgently. I did. By the grace of God, I didn't commit adultery. Not then and not yet. But, it's there in my heart biding its time. Jesus said that makes me as bad as the worst offender. Happily, because I have always been taught that I am capable of adultery, I've always been on my guard against it. After all, it doesn't start when you jump into bed with your lover, but months, years earlier, when you tell yourself that your friend understands you better than your spouse. (story retold in Carolyn Mahaney's Feminine Appeal, p.87)

When I was 6, I fell in love for the first time, with a lion, Aslan. When I was 8, I fell in love with a horse, the Silver Brumby. When I was 10, I fell in love with a human, Aragorn. In each case, there was a worshipful inner homage to their nobility, courage and gentleness, which I recall with great clarity. When I was 13, with the first stirrings of puberty, I fell in love with Tom Burlinson in The Man From Snowy River: a less spiritual, more visceral attraction.

And there, in miniature, were the seeds of female lust: 90% personality and 10% physicality (no doubt the proportion is reversed for many men). Which of us hasn't read a book, followed a TV series, or watched a movie, and felt our heart beat faster at the sight of a Mr. Darcy or a Mr. Knightly? (I know, I'm going a bit Jane Austen here, but we all understand the pull of the costume drama.) It requires no great level of physical attractiveness: give us a man with strength, sensitivity and good dress sense (ok, now I'm being silly - aren't I??) and we are lost.



We may not think of this as "lust", because it doesn't fit the male stereotype. But to allow our emotions to be drawn to a strong, sensitive character in a TV show, and our minds to play with the idea of a man who would understand and care for us, is no less lustful than a man desiring a woman's body. And, of course, the unstated implication is always there (for those of us who are married) - surely this man would listen to me, sympathise with me, and love me better than my husband.

Women's thoughts also often fit more recognisably into the category of "lust". Women, not just men, watch pornography, fantasise about sex scenes, and admire the bodies of those they're not married to. In these days of equality, advertising images play lingeringly over the male as well as the female form: women are being trained in the school of lust.


I think it's time women stopped talking as if impure thoughts are a "male" problem. The result of this is that women become too embarrassed to talk about their struggles openly, because they expect others to be shocked and horrified, so they never seek help and counsel from other women. They feel completely alone, struggling with a problem that no other woman - surely! - has ever struggled with, instead of a temptation which is "common to [wo]man" (1 Cor. 10:13). Unadvised and uncounselled, women fall ripe from the tree into the open hands of lust.


Let's borrow a few weapons from the male armoury. I asked my husband how he counsels guys who are struggling with these issues, and here's some of his suggestions:

• Be accountable to someone you trust (guys often use Covenant Eyes). A godly older woman is likely to be completely unshocked when you tell her about your problem.


• Pray for the person you're attracted to. This will help you think of them as a real person in need of God's grace, not an object of desire.


• Replace impure thoughts with God's word (nothing like a Bible passage repeated in the head to drive unhelpful thoughts far away!).


• Fight tough and smart. Flee temptation. Avoid situations, books and shows which you find tempting (Matt. 5:27-30).


• If you're married, learn to be satisfied with your partner (Prov. 5:19). Work on those tender thoughts we talked about recently.


• Be wise. Being alone in a room with a man who's not your husband, even if it's for something "spiritual" like prayer or counsel, is likely to damage your reputation, and lead you both into danger.


• Don't think you're above temptation. The women whose story heads this post is an absolute inspiration: she admitted adultery was possible for any of us, and ran away as fast as she could.


• Be ruthless. Don't entertain those intruding thoughts for a second, however pleasurable they might be. Be holy, as God is holy (1 Pet. 1:16).


• Realise that emotional closeness, especially for women, is the first step to physical closeness. Don't commit emotional adultery. Avoid intimate conversation with a man you think is a "good listener". Reserve your closest friendship for your husband.


• Don't flirt. It's easy to do this in subtle ways: through immodest dress, intimate conversation, and inviting smiles. Be aware of the impact of your behaviour on yourself and others.


• Help your husband with his own temptations. Pray for his purity. Dress attractively, organise nights away, be physically affectionate: these things help him to see you as a sexual person, not just a "wife" or "mum", and help his thoughts not to stray to others. Forgive him when he fails, remembering that you are also guilty of sexual sin.


• If you're married, keep each other satisfied sexually (more about that later this week).

I'd love to hear from anyone who has some other good ideas about how to battle lust, both for single and married people.

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