I Like Big ‘Buts’ — An Evangelical Counter-Argument to Sex & Nudity in Cinema (Pt. One)

From “The Bible” (1966) directed by John Huston

A few months back, Tim Challies posted a piece entitled Sex on the Silver Screen in which he argues that watching simulated sex scenes in films, and the assumed accompanying nudity, is categorically wrong for Christians to partake of. Challies concludes,

The reality is, the Bible forbids what those actors are doing. If the Bible forbids what they are doing, it also forbids your voyeuristic participation in it. If they act sinfully by doing it, you act sinfully by watching it.

This was part of a conversation evangelicals were having that was largely initiated by John Piper in his post Seven Questions to Ask Before You Watch ‘Deadpool.’ A day or so after reading the piece, I encountered a similar article (similar in subject matter, at least) that I felt addressed the subject in a much more detailed, thoughtful way. In their post The Body on Screen, the Catholic Geeks take time to unravel the interconnecting issues, such as “what is nudity,” is all nudity in film intended to arouse, what do viewer and the creator bring to the table and what they are responsible for, can nudity be shown in a film without invoking lust, can real nudity be detached from a recreated image, and much more. It’s over 5,000 words, footnoted, and well-worth the read if you’re interested in a more detailed treatment of this subject. The author concludes:

“…the filmmaker is not responsible for catering to puritans or the overly-scrupulous. Those people like to find temptation and sin where none exists, and they will condemn content in films based on their radical opinions rather than truth. A properly-handled instance of cinematic nudity poses no danger of sin to a normal person, yet the overly-scrupulous carry their temptations in with them, and accuse the film of pornography. The fault is theirs, not the filmmaker’s.”

I linked to that post on my Facebook page while the Challies piece was making its rounds and got some significant pushback. You can see that conversation HERE. One of those who took exception to the post was Gregory Shane Morris, assistant editor of BreakPoint Radio, who left this comment:

I answered him, “Gregory, still seems like a valid objection to me. You’ve done nothing to engage the argument.” To which he replied,

“Mike, if you really equate strip club scenes and softcore porn bedroom sequences involving actual people simulating actual sex acts for your enjoyment to the emaciated, shocking nudity of Holocaust victims marching to their deaths in Schindler’s List, your argument needs no engagement.”

And that was the extent of our interaction — I brought up the employment of nudity in Schindler’s List as an example of the “nudity in film” issue being anything but cut-and-dried, to which he basically dismissed as trying to “equate strip club scenes and softcore porn” to “emaciated, shocking nudity of Holocaust victims.” In my opinion, a very uncharitable mischaracterization of my opinion.

So I was not surprised to see Morris take up the subject more at length, nor was I surprised by a similar rhetorical tone. In his recent article for Breakpoint Magazine, No Buts About It , Morris springboards off of recent discussions surrounding the film Deadpool and Christians apparent dismissal or defense of its gratuitous nudity. His set-up to addressing five common “buts” — common evangelical defenses of nudity in film — looked like this:

The Christian blogosphere has developed a penchant for defending nudity-as-entertainment. A lot of Christians are arguing that the Son of Man would have no problem joining them in front of a 50-foot screen dominated by flesh.

Thus, Morris proceeds to approach the subject with a club not a scalpel. Rather than concede that the issues are perhaps more complex and us “defenders” are perhaps not the prurient reprobates typically made out to be, Morris resorts to rancorous and combative rhetoric, casting those who might disagree as “arguing that the Son of Man would have no problem joining them in front of a 50-foot screen dominated by flesh.”

Defending a less “reactionary” approach to sex and nudity in film (as I am) is not an enviable position for an evangelical to be in.

For one thing, it is easy to see the defender of a more thoughtful evangelical approach to nudity in film as defending sin. Listen, there are very good reasons to err on the side of caution here. Lust, lewdness, immodesty, immorality, and fornication are NOT minor issues in Scripture. In some ways, the life of the puritan (with their endless clinical codes of conduct) should be preferred over the life of the libertine hedonist. Better to go into heaven with one eye, Jesus said, than to be thrown into hell with two. Please be clear, I am not suggesting that all those who defend the traditional evangelical approach to sex and nudity in film are Pharisaical. What I will suggest is that those who defend such a position often frame those of us who counter as hedonists. Or, at best, winking at sin.

Refraining from charging “opponents” as either puritans or hedonists is an important prerequisite to a civil discussion about sex in cinema. Frankly, one reason evangelicals have such a hard time discussing the subject fairly is that both sides seem to have little qualms about framing the other as either Pharisees or Perverts.

Secondly, it’s easy to mistake (or intentionally mischaracterize) opponents of the typical evangelical view as on a crusade FOR sex and nudity in cinema. As if my goal is to persuade all believers to relax before “a 50-foot screen dominated by flesh” with Jesus at our side. I’ve run into this same mischaracterization before as I have argued for evangelicals to adopt a more thoughtful, less rigid approach to profanity in fiction. Christian publishers are notorious for rather strict language guidelines. Some of those strictures can be rather absurd, striking words like crap, poop, darn it, and hell. Well, part of the downside of my position is that it can often be misconstrued as an argument FOR profanity. As a result, some rebuttals come in the form of, “Why are you on a crusade for profanity?” In fact, the accusations got so bad, that I wrote a piece defending myself entitled The Crusade Against Profanity (And Other Ploys). The same thing can potentially happen with the subject of sex and nudity in film. So let me clarify (before I’m charged with it) — I’m not on a crusade for more sex and nudity in films! What I’m on a ‘crusade’ for is a more thoughtful evangelical approach to art in general.

Morris brings up five common “buts” in his piece; these are what he views as the most common defenses used by Christians who argue for a more nuanced or liberal approach to sex and nudity in film. Those ‘buts’ are:

“It’s just a movie!”
“The nudity advances the story!”
“Schindler’s List!”
“It doesn’t cause me to lust!”
“It’s no different from violence!”

I’m not going to attempt to rebut each and every one of Morris’ points. But let me begin by saying… I agree with most of them. At least, I agree with some of the sentiments behind them.

We agree that our culture has slipped into the moral sewer, that we’ve drifted FAR from God’s design for sex and marriage, and that Christians, as have the general American populace, drifted into debauchery and been desensitized to sin. Morris concludes:

We’ve conditioned ourselves to look at pixels or projections and see objects rather than people—objects that exist for our pleasure. But as many a grieving wife and divorcee can tell you, that instinct to treat people as objects rarely stays in the virtual world. It warps the way we look at those around us, and defiles the secret and sacred bed of marriage where God meant us to enjoy nudity.

We agree that labeling everything controversial or sexually questionable as “art” can be a smokescreen. Frankly, I think Christians are a bit too eager to “find the Gospel” in so many works of pop culture. At some point, we simply must employ moral strictures to our art appreciation. Morris writes,

…this objection suggests that art transcends morality, or that merely classifying something as “art” excuses its moral shortcomings. But art, like anything else, can be bent to serve good or evil. Indeed, art has a particular penchant for training our minds how to think, our bodies how to behave, and our souls what to love.

We agree that believers should bring more discernment to what they watch on TV and cinema. Perhaps this is a given per the subject matter, but I’ve personally found it troubling how undiscerning Christians can appear to be about this subject. Even seemingly benign films and programs can subtly shape our values and worldviews.

So in many ways, I’d consider myself and Morris allies in a similar cause.

However, I’ve got some big ‘buts.’

My first big objection to this post is its hostile, uncharitable tone. Sure, that doesn’t address the subject matter. But it taints what engagement there is and immediately paints objectors in an unfavorable light. For example, in answering his #2 “The nudity advances the story!” Morris says,

“What I hear when someone raises this defense is that he or she thinks pornography is dandy–“

Wha–? Do those who argue for a more thoughtful, less reactionary approach to sex and nudity in film really think “pornography is dandy”? This response is so obviously over-the-top it’s hard to not see it as an intentional mischaracterization of an opposing point of view. This is not the only incidence of such rhetoric. On  #3 “Schindler’s List!” Morris responds,

“If you can’t tell the difference between emaciated Holocaust victims stripped even of the dignity of clothing, and strippers gyrating on a pole (yes, that’s in “Deadpool”), you have bigger problems than my opinion on your choice of entertainment.”

Please notice that he doesn’t even answer the question. Instead, he questions the challenger as not being able to “tell the difference between emaciated Holocaust victims….strippers gyrating on a pole.” Good grief! And this rhetorical tone continues throughout the piece.

Listen, this is an important conversation that Christians need to have. I am not writing this rebuttal because I “think pornography is dandy” and “can’t tell the difference between emaciated Holocaust victims” and “strippers gyrating on a pole.” My hope is that we can avoid such rhetoric and refrain from insinuating that those on either side are either perverts or pharisees.

Perhaps one of the biggest areas where Morris (and those of a similar position) and I disagree is that the line between what is proper and improper, what is sin and not sin, is a lot finer than objectors want to concede. I’ll go more into that in my next post. But by way of illustration, and as a segue, let me recount an event in my childhood that, I think, illustrates the complexity of this issue and why we need to approach it with a scalpel rather than a club.

My parents took me to see a film when I was 9 years old. It was the first time I can really recall being sexually aroused by a film. That movie was John Huston’s The Bible. It was rated G. The scene in question was in the Garden of Eden (duh) and involved Eve (duh). Of course, the nudity was suggested. There were glimpses of skin between the lush flora. And there was faint side boob shots of Eve between her long and conveniently flowing hair. I remembering thinking how hot incredibly Eve was. And — this part may be hard to explain — but part of her “hotness” was the pristine beauty of what she was and what God had made. Here was a perfect Woman who perfectly matched a Companion. There was something good and true and beautiful about her. But like any good red-blooded male, the package of that “goodness” and its visual expression was… stimulating.

So did the director show too much? Was there a mare tasteful way this could be approached? Or was such responses inevitable no matter how careful the director was and how tasteful the representation?

I’ll take this up in my next post.