mundane consumptions
He didn’t have time to write down the marmalade recipe, his blog said. He’d been busy, you see. He’d had to get to the falafel place as they invariably closed of a weekend. Then there was the cheese shop, from whence he made two choices. And the pastry shop, where he found three selections to bring home. And, of course, the stop at the sex shop. That’s where I stopped reading. I would look elsewhere for a marmalade recipe. But it got me thinking. A list of lusts, really. All lined up, considered normal, and taken in of a sunny afternoon. The half pound of cheese is made to be as much a consumable as the choices in the mirror - hiding the reality that nearly every girl locked in the sex trade is not there voluntarily. Sin has been made so mundane, so normal, so consumable that our happy little lives are content bumbling from one choice to the next, never questioning, never thinking.
A conversation I contradicted some months ago came back to me. Two women were chatting over tea. ‘Well, the pill didn’t work, so we’re trying the IUD, how ‘bout you?” the one says to the other. “We’re tired of condoms so we’re thinking of snip snip, you know. Just can’t decide if it’s to be me or him.” They registered shock and pity as they turned to me and found we would welcome any and every life God provided through our bloodline or anyone else’s. Condescendingly brushed over, their talk turned to college funds and birthday party extravaganzas for the few little darlings for whom they had decided they would grant quality of life.
It comes back to me as yet another list of choices. The goal is clear; sex for pleasure, guaranteed. These people have spayed pets, are pro-choice, and would be careful to eliminate any ‘bad cabbage’ with a potential handicap before he or she was born. Choices. Cheese, pastries, sex. Condoms, IUDs, abortion. The conversations are always so elite, so PC. So consumption oriented. So me centered.
And so open, so accepted, so mundane. Sin would be a laughable phrase - an unpronounceable bit of vocabulary in their little worlds. Yet it’s bitter, murderous fangs are far reaching. Children as young as six disappear from suburban America’s quiet streets, or are sold by ignorant fathers in far off rural countrysides - because sex is a lust that has become a commodity. Children as old as late term can be aborted without any more human rights than these stolen children, because sex is a lust that everyone should have access to without consequences.
Are these people fulfilled in their lusts? Stats show otherwise. Never have we been more medicated, ulcerate, obese, worried, suicidal, or criminal than in the years since porn and free sex, Roe vs Wade, and the wave of infanticide that we have come to view as ‘normal’. And never have we been more inoculated. The Truth is not far away. We live in lands where Christ is openly proclaimed, but we choose to ignore Him as old fashioned, colonial, inane, and a remnant of our childhood. A hand was raised at some distant invitation when “every eye was closed, every head bowed” and that was considered enough of an inoculation against hell. What is so fascinating about sin? What’s appealing? It never fulfills, never. It just lures one on, distracting. Flitting from one well advertised choice to the next, the passage from light to utter darkness is never noted. Mundane consumption of choices are laid out as equals, the good with the bad. This seems the only recipe needed to keep a multitude from ever finding life and fulfilment. And it keeps another multitude in slavery and death.
Will there never be any consequences for our sins?