Tell me why the world is weird: My Asexual Opinions On This Article About Prayer

A crowd of people with their hands raised in worship, in front of a cross. Image source.

[content note: NSFW]

I came across this post from 2019, Prayer and Orgasm Have More in Common Than You Think (Guest Post by Kelly Deutsch), and I have some asexual things to say about it.

First of all, I guess I'll put a disclaimer here: I'm not saying "allosexuals think prayer is like sex, and here is why I don't agree with that as an asexual." ("Allosexual" means not asexual or any of the other related identities under the asexual umbrella. Most people are allosexual.) It's not true that most people think prayer is like sex/orgasm- and this writer, Kelly Deutsch, obviously knows that; that's why she wrote a blog post to make her arguments for it. No, the part I take issue with is all the assumptions in her blog post about what sex is like. Her argument is basically "you know how when you have sex, you do X? well can be similar to doing Y during prayer" and I'm over here like "... I don't do X during sex..."

And I see this sort of thing all the time, in the way people talk about sex. The unstated assumptions about what sex is about. I felt like this article serves as a good example of it, so I'm going to blog about it here.

(Sometimes when I write a post about "people say X about sex, and here is why that makes no sense to me as an asexual", readers leave comments saying "I also think it makes no sense, and I'm not asexual." Yes! I appreciate those comments! Surely a lot of these things just inherently don't make sense, unrelated to the fact that I'm asexual. I'm really glad that IDing as ace gives me the space to talk about that, and I would love to see people who aren't asexual also talking about it.)

Okay let's start:

I can’t remember the first time it happened in prayer. But I remember the first conversation I tried to have about it.
“My prayer has been… I mean, it’s been wonderful.” My eyes sparkled, but I struggled to find the words. “It’s like… it’s spousal. It’s like my heart blooms open, to a place deeper than I knew existed—and God pours himself out there. Sometimes it leaves me breathless!”
...
Over the years, I came to learn that this kind of profound experience in prayer was not uncommon. Mystics from nearly every religion speak of the divine as “beloved” or “lover.”
Sexuality and Spirituality are a lot closer than many of us might think.
Don’t believe me? Check out Teresa of Avila’s poetry:
When He touches me I clutch the sky’s sheets, the way other lovers do the earth’s weave of clay. Any real ecstasy is a sign you are moving in the right direction, don’t let any prude tell you otherwise.
Or John of the Cross:
O sweet cautery, O delightful wound! O gentle hand! O delicate touch That tastes of eternal life… How gently and lovingly You wake my heart… And by Your sweet breathing, How tenderly You swell my heart with love!
Or Rumi:
The wakened lover speaks directly to the beloved, ‘You are the sky my spirit circles in, The love inside love, the resurrection place… Are these words or tears? Is weeping speech? What shall I do, my love?’
So he speaks, and everyone around Begins to cry with him, laughing crazily, Moaning in the spreading union Of lover and beloved.
This is the true religion.

Okay, I see a lot here that is guaranteed to make a group of middle-school boys devolve into uncontrolled giggling, but in my opinion that doesn't actually mean it's sexual. Does that make sense? I don't read it as sexual. There are a few bits that mention something sexual as an analogy to what they're experiencing ("spousal", "other lovers", "prude") but I really don't see that as saying the actual religious experience is sexual.

("spousal" is a weird word to use though, like wtf does that mean. As an immigrant I gotta say I've heard people say "spousal visa" but that's it.)

It sort of reminds me of what I wrote in my post "You Weren't There, the Night Jesus Found Me":

It's choosing to pour out worship on Jesus. I know I said I'd never worship again- which is true- but I mean this in a different way. It's choosing to do it, this one time, because of how I feel. Celebration. Love. And that's real right now, but I make no promises for the future. I've said before, I'm never going to be in a personal relationship with a god again. But I see that maybe I can worship with no strings attached. Just enjoy it for what it is in the moment. It doesn't mean I'm giving my whole life to Them, or anything like that.
...
Can I worship God when I want, without commitment, and it's more meaningful because They know it's real every time, rather than being out of obligation?

I was aware, when I wrote that, that it sounds very similar to arguments about why casual sex "no strings attached" can be a good thing. My feeling on this is basically, "Well I meant what I said. It's not a sexual thing at all. The fact that other people use that same sort of language to talk about sex is not my problem." Like, okay, if you're going to list of examples of situations where generally it's expected that something is supposed to occur in the context of a committed relationship, but some people argue that outside of a committed relationship it can also be a good and beautiful thing... in my blog post, I put "worship" on that list. Many other people have put "sex" on that list. That doesn't mean my view on worship is sexual, or some nonsense like that.

Unless you see sex as like the default background noise behind everything. Which, well, yeah, people do, and as an asexual I hate that.

And speaking of "the default background noise behind everything"- back to Deutsch's article:

It was no secret to the mystics! Eros, that creative, life-giving energy that fuels our sexuality is the same energy within the divine. Actually, it’s the reverse: God is the wild and beautiful dance between eros (desire, longing, creative energy) and agape (self-giving, fruitful love). When we make love, we participate in that dance.
And so we do when we pray.

Umm.

Okay let's have a little reality check here. Sex- the definition of sex. Sex is getting together with another person and messing around with each other's genitals. That's what sex is. Okay? That's what it is.

Like seriously, that's what it is. That's it.

All this stuff about "creative, life-giving energy", "desire, longing"- those are very abstract things, and sex can be that, to some people, but there's an extra step in there. How do you connect the very concrete act of genital stimulation to these big abstract concepts? As an asexual, I argue that they are not *inherently* connected. I suppose it's true that, for many people, the gateway to all these big abstract ideas about pleasure and desire and feeling alive is... *checks notes* ... *checks notes again* ... doing stuff with your genitals (?????) but I don't see why those things would be inherently connected, and we certainly shouldn't assume that they're connected for everyone.

Story time: Back when I had never had sex, I thought I really really really wanted sex, because I really really really wanted all these wonderful abstract ideas about love and emotional connection. I know that I had heard of asexuality back then, but of course I thought I couldn't possibly be asexual- I really really wanted sex! Because I viewed sex as like, this transcendent, intimate experience, where you truly give yourself to your partner, and feel love in the most direct and powerful way, and all that- of course I want to have sex! I knew that in practical terms, it was brought about by doing stuff with your genitals, but I didn't think that would be ... like... something you would need to pay attention to, as you get swept up in the romance and emotion of it.

(Wow I just realized my naive view on sex from back then sounds EXTREMELY ASEXUAL.)

But, when I started having sex, it wasn't like that at all. It was like, trying to figure out how to put our genitals together. Like, that's it. Really. That's what it was.

So I'm not buying this stuff about "Eros, that creative, life-giving energy that fuels our sexuality is the same energy within the divine". Like, okay, I can believe that there is "creative, life-giving energy". But if you want to convince me that we can access that energy through sex- which, remember, means finding a partner and messing around with each other's genitals- you're going to need to at least offer some kind of argument to make that connection. Really bizarre how the connection is just assumed.

Moving along:

Lovemaking requires vulnerability. At the very least, it requires you to bare a private part of you, physically. At the very best, it asks you to bare your most intimate parts– emotionally and spiritually.
Prayer is simply another word for “relationship with the divine.” It, too, requires vulnerability in order to be intimate. You can have a surface-level relationship with Infinite Love just as you can with your spouse. You can hide, perform your perceived duties, and live separate lives while still calling yourself “spiritual” or “holy” or “Christian” (or “married”!). Or– you can be in a rich, satisfying, jovial relationship with the divine. It is as real and nuanced as your relationship with your spouse.
Consider the amount of trust it takes to be truly naked with someone. It might be easy to take off your clothes; but how easy is it to bare your heart? To share your fears? To be seen in all your flaws and imperfections—and be loved there? It’s like your husband kissing that flabby spot you’re secretly ashamed of, or your wife revering that hairy mole you find revolting. But she loves it because it is a part of YOU.
That’s the kind of tenderness God shows us. He caresses our pride. He reveres our epic failures that spark shame in us. While we beat ourselves up (“How could I be so stupid and selfish?? How could I hurt the friend who loves me so well?”), the divine pours mercy in that spot. He soothes the shame, washing it out with the waters of tenderness. He doesn’t pour out wrath: we’re the ones who do that.

So... okay, I would say the analogy is a bit confused here because the writer is actually talking about sex in 2 different ways:

Sex
Sex when you are with a partner that you fully love and trust and that you feel safe being vulnerable with

She is saying that prayer should have vulnerability similar to item 2 on that list, and therefore prayer/spirituality can be sexual. But... uh... sex isn't always vulnerable like that. And she seems to realize this, because the section I pasted above says things like "It might be easy to take off your clothes; but how easy is it to bare your heart?"- in other words, being naked/ having sex doesn't necessarily mean you're also sharing your heart with your partner.

So it seems really weird to me that the argument is like "Sometimes sex is vulnerable and emotionally intimate, and sometimes it is not. Prayer can also be vulnerable and emotionally intimate- therefore prayer, at its best, is like sex." Like... seems like the sex is a separate thing from the concept of vulnerability. So the conclusion doesn't really follow.

My best guess is, she views this kind of vulnerable/intimate sex as the "correct" way to have sex, and therefore sex which doesn't meet those criteria isn't worth being considered as she makes her argument about how prayer can be like sex.

(I guess I'll put some examples of "less vulnerable" types of sex, in case it's not clear what I mean. Okay, for one thing, you don't have to actually be naked to have sex. You just need to expose whichever genitals you need for whichever specific sex act you're doing. If you're still confused, here is a bunch of erotica about it [NSFW], you're welcome. Also, as far as I know, if you're having sex early on in the relationship, or having a one-time hookup, or with a stranger, you won't just go ahead and let them see whatever body parts you feel weird about. You would present yourself in a certain way, specifically to reduce that vulnerability... actually, for safety reasons, I think it's important to reduce that vulnerability if you don't know your partner well enough. Also, don't tell strangers where you live, etc. I don't have experience with this, but apparently having random hookups with people you don't want to be emotionally intimate with- and actually shouldn't be emotionally intimate with, because you don't know them well enough to trust them- is a common thing.)

And for me personally, I'm not saying sex isn't vulnerable, I'm saying that it's a lot of other things too- like confusing, and it was painful when I had vaginismus... so I'm not on board with a metaphor that treats vulnerability as if it's THE most important aspect.

It's weird to me, though, that if the thing she's actually getting at is the vulnerability, then why does she seem to think that the thing she's getting at is the sex?

Oh and also, I guess I should mention, I used to have a "personal relationship with God" which was vulnerable and emotionally intimate and all that. (But it wasn't sexual, because, of course not, wtf?) And I did spend time praying and worshiping just because I enjoyed it and wanted to be with God, and did at times feel huge overwhelming mind-blowing happy emotions. But it wasn't like an orgasm, obviously, because an orgasm happens in your genitals.

But I don't have a "personal relationship with God" anymore. Actually I believe in a different God now (I'm still Christian, but a different kind of Christian than before), but I am not willing to have a "personal relationship" with Them. I'm not willing to have that vulnerability with any God at all, because of what happened with the evangelical God.

But if Deutsch's spirituality is sexual, then that's fine for her. Glad she is happy about it. I just take issue with how what she's describing as "sex" isn't what sex is for everyone. And also, honestly, I don't think her spirituality *is* sexual; I think she conceptualizes it as being *metaphorically* sexual.

Taserface announces "It's metaphorical!" (Scene from "Guardians of the Galaxy, Vol 2") Image source.

Which, yeah sure, it's fine that she wants to use this metaphor to describe her experience. I just find it weird that she doesn't realize there are many places where, for many people, the metaphor can break down.

Let's continue reading the article!

I once was talking to a friend of mine who was having a hard time in her prayer life. I also knew that it had taken years after getting married for her to experience an orgasm. (Which is not a rare experience for women.) I asked, “What made the difference when you were finally able to come?” She pondered for a moment. “You know,” she replied softly, “it was when I finally allowed myself to surrender. I had to let go of all my fears and rigidity. You really have to relax and let go in order for climax to happen.”

Uh. I have 1 question: WHY DIDN'T SHE BUY A SEX TOY?

Like, this strikes me as very weird, this idea that if a woman can't figure out how to have an orgasm, she needs to "relax and let go." No, you don't need to do that. BUY A SEX TOY.

[Edit: Based on the discussion in the comments section, I decided I need to make an edit here: I was working under the assumption that this woman's problem was that she had never had an orgasm before, and wanted to have an orgasm, but had no idea about the physical mechanics of it. In that case- which is probably one of the simplest cases- buying a sex toy will likely be all that's needed to solve that problem. But if it's more complicated than that, and it's a mix of conflicting societal expectations vs how you want your partner to see you vs how you feel about your own identity, etc, then maybe a sex toy won't help at all. And if she feels like "I need to buy a sex toy so I can learn to orgasm so I can perform sex correctly for my husband" then that's no good either. Your sex life should be about you first. Figure out yourself first, then you can choose to share it with another person.]

Nobody tells men to "relax and let go" in order to solve their sexual problems. But apparently it's FINE if a married woman doesn't have orgasms for YEARS, while her husband presumably DOES have orgasms. Apparently that's just the way it is, until she can teach herself to "relax and let go."

Absolutely no judgment on this woman- it's not her fault, and my experience was similar. This is a failure of the sex ed system, is what it is.

Yeah, when I started having sex, I didn't know what arousal was. I didn't know that a woman having an orgasm was supposed to be part of sex. Or, I had heard of the idea of women having orgasms, but I thought it would be just... like... you do what feels good, and then it suddenly happens. Umm, no no, I'm asexual, so "what feels good" is cuddling a lot and then falling asleep together, which doesn't have anything to do with orgasms. Okay, if you're as naive as I was and you don't know this, let me spell it out for you: To get an orgasm, you have to stimulate your genitals in ways that feel good and make you feel like "ooh I want to keep stimulating my genitals like this" so then you do just that, for a while, and that's how you get an orgasm. If you don't have the "I want to keep stimulating my genitals like this" feeling, then you are *not* on track to get an orgasm. It doesn't just come out of nowhere. It doesn't come from, like, being really "relaxed." (For the very naive readers, let me spell this out more: In this anecdote about the woman who got orgasms when she finally learned to "relax", she (and/or her husband) was definitely also physically stimulating her genitals in ways that felt like "I want to keep stimulating my genitals" but couldn't quite get the orgasm until she added 1 last component, which was the emotional state of "relax and let go." Why am I writing about this on the internet?) Here, if you still have questions, go read the Wikipedia article on orgasms. I always heard people say that an orgasm is indescribable, but that's not true; Wikipedia does a pretty good job describing it.

ANYWAY, don't try to psych yourself up into this weird, badly-defined "relax and let go" emotional state. BUY A ****ING VIBRATOR.

Okay... well... some people don't like the idea of using a sex toy. That's fine- if you don't want to use a sex toy, then don't. But it should be your decision. You should know what your reasons are, and they should be reasons that matter to you. Not because society says there's something wrong with it and it's not the "correct" way to have sex. Not because your partner doesn't like the idea- your partner, who is fine with himself having orgasms and you not having orgasms- if that's the situation you're in, and your partner is saying you "shouldn't" try a sex toy, ask yourself this question: What the f***?

Even if you want to learn how to orgasm without a sex toy, the sex toy can be a useful tool because you'll at least find out what an orgasm is, and the basic general outlines of what you need to do to get it. (Well, actually, let me add the disclaimer that not every sex toy works for everyone.) Once you have that knowledge, you'll be in a much better position to try and get an orgasm without the sex toy.

Because, if one partner has orgasms, and the other partner *never* has orgasms, that should be a red flag. Like, I don't want to say it's *definitely* wrong- I believe sex can be whatever you define it to be, and there's no "correct" way to do it- as long as everyone involved is okay with it. Sure, I can imagine situations where one partner is fine with participating in sex but not having any orgasms themself. There's nothing *inherently* wrong with that. But that's an unusual situation, and there should be a good reason for it. Not just, well, this is how it is for women, *shrug*, why can't she just learn to "relax and let go"?

(I'm also a little mad about the "relax" advice because I had vaginismus, and I asked several doctors "why is sex painful?" and they all said "just relax" which was useless because I actually HAD VAGINISMUS. Like, AN ACTUAL MEDICAL PROBLEM. And I had to figure out what to do about it my own damn self, and the answer was not "relax", the answer was very carefully and analytically trying, with lube, to put one's own fingers in one's vagina. Or, alternatively, "don't have vaginal sex" also works a perfectly valid answer.)

Anyway... wow this blog post is getting long. Sometimes I ask myself why I'm out here on the internet, as an asexual, giving sex ed advice.

Okay skimming over the rest of Deutsch's article... here's a bit at the end I have to mention:

[content note: explicit description of sex]

That is one of the simplest ways to divine union: sitting in your longing. Open up that space to the divine and ask him to fill you, much like a husband fills his wife. We are all feminine before the divine. Spread wide your cavern, your longing, and he will hasten to fill you with himself. How could he resist such beauty?

Okay, I have 2 things to say here:

Eww
My God is too queer for this heteronormative analogy

To her credit, the writer acknowledges my first objection:

If the genital analogy doesn’t work for you, leave it. But for millennia, it is the best analogy mystics have come up with to explain the delicious ecstasy found in the heights of prayer.

Yeah, I mean, if it works for you, then that's great. But it's just an analogy, not what sex actually *is*, so you have to understand that there are people whose experience of sex doesn't fit this idea.

At the end of her article, there are some practical suggestions for how to get to this kind of "orgasm" connection with God. I guess if you are interested in trying it yourself, you can go read it.

But also, I realize, I guess I have had the experience that she's talking about. As I said earlier in this very long blog post, I used to have a "personal relationship with God", and I did feel His presence in amazing ways. I kind of just realize now, as I come to practical suggestions at the end of Deutsch's article, that those experiences are (probably?) what she means by this whole orgasm analogy. Yeah, I ... back then... I did feel it, overwhelming, in my heart, passion, desire, devotion, chasing God, huge emotions that made me shout and fall to my knees and dance in worship, and I loved it, and I experienced God.

But, first of all, just because it had those powerful strong pleasurable emotions didn't mean it was like an orgasm (wtf), and second, yeah I'm not doing that with a God ever again.

So yeah, that's my asexual opinion on that. I sometimes see people talking about sex in ways that have these hidden assumptions about what sex is- like the idea that sex is about vulnerability, sex connects us with the life-giving energy of the universe, etc. And I find it quite odd, because actually sex is about doing stuff with your genitals. If you experience sex in a certain way, and you want to make an analogy about that, then good for you, but the analogy won't apply to everyone.

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A bit of an aside: I had a similar issue with the book "Radical Love: Introduction to Queer Theology." Overall I liked it, but it definitely had A LOT of this kind of argument "you know how you do X during sex- well that's similar to this other thing, Y, related to religion" and I'm like "since when do people do X during sex???"

Here's what I wrote in my review of that book, in 2018:

Yeah, there were A LOT of places in this book where it was talking about theology and such and I was following along, no problem, and then SUDDENLY it just became EXTREMELY SEXUAL and I found myself way too asexual to even figure out what it was talking about. Like, if it says desire for God in prayer is like sexual desire, I'm like... trying to remember how allosexuals view sexual desire so I can try to figure out what on earth is being communicated with this analogy.

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Also, I just happened to remember that Rob Bell wrote a book called Sex God: Exploring the Endless Connections Between Sexuality and Spirituality.