Light Obsession

A young lady called me to pray for her pure light. 

We were in some deep conversation about the outrageous canon she and her boyfriend imposed on themselves: no kissing allowed.

I asked two questions about the puritan puzzle: Why and How?

Her answer was swift: "I am obsessed."

The simplicity of her alien resolve led me to a theological hike: Why would a normal young lady refrain from kissing just because of Jesus?

A kiss is so much more than an exercise of oral tenderness. You never kiss someone without your heart being thrown ahead in the room. A kiss is a seal of advanced commitment. it is a promise to stay forever true. No wonder, when I officiate weddings, I get to say: "You may now kiss the bride." 

The finality of Christ's presence has tremendous implications on kissing. N.T. Wright caught this in a most pressing statement:

How can you cope with the end of a world and the beginning of another one? How can you put an earthquake into a test-tube, or the sea into a bottle? How can you live with the terrifying thought that the hurricane has become human, that the fire has become flesh, that life itself came to life and walked in our midst? Christianity either means that, or it means nothing. It is either the more devastating disclosure of the deepest reality in the world, or it’s a sham, a nonsense, a bit of deceitful play-acting. Most of us, unable to cope with saying either of those things, condemn ourselves to live in the shallow world in between…

When one truly meets Christ, it is either you kiss Him or your turn away and osculate with your boyfriend in the "shallow world in between."

I get it.

The young maiden is on to something here. It is not about building a prudish wall but all about celebrating the context of her consuming passion.

When one truly sees Christ, all else grow strangely pale.