Mommy Porn and the ugly side of romance novels

Are you addicted to Mommy pornography?

Today at church was one of the most real conversations I’ve ever heard. A pastor and his former protégée spoke on stage about the man’s moral failure, related to pornography and who knows what else. I’m glad they didn’t go into details. If you want to be blown away, take the time to watch this sermon. #JRCLife

But if you are one of the few people leftover in a Siberian gulag and you just got out, you might not be aware of the amazingly devastating effects that pornography is having on our world today. Pornography is one of the fuels of the global sex trade industry. It costs economies billions of dollars a year (just do the research on the bandwidth it takes up in Africa, where bandwidth is at a premium.) Porn, by even non-religious standards, is an evil, demeaning, dehumanizing putrid evil. Its also incredibly addictive.

I’m sure you’d agree.

However, I’ve noticed that the same people who will “tut-tut-tut” those poor souls addicted to visual imagery do not have the same moral compass when it comes to their reading habits.

The whole category of “mommy porn” applies to literature mostly targeted a moms, who fuel the romance novel industry. You know, the flowing hair guys with big pecks and the poor distressed lonely woman recovering from a dude who broke her heart. Half way through the story, he comes back in, love triangle. Repeat ad nausea.

I confess. I loved Jane Eyre. I read the book with Mr. Darcy and it was a good story.

But recently I picked up a novel where the author went into the mind of a sexual pervert. A rapist. My favorite author. My favorite genre, a spy novel. And I put it down.

If I wouldn’t watch the movie, why would I read the story?

I don’t want that in my mind. And just because the images come from words on the page doesn’t make them equally powerful. Equally addictive. And equally wrong.

When a man’s pornography habits are exposed, society places huge shame upon his shoulders. And rightfully so.

But If I were to read those steamy passages from those romance books, out loud, to your kids, would you feel good about it?

Where do you ideas of adult interactions come from? Your lustful books? Your sexually charged romance scenarios? Your flower-powered , verbal love fests that lead to a romp in the sheets?

Maybe I’m wrong. But when something comes onto TV that wrong, I was trained by my dad to look away. But we never really talked about books.

Maybe it’s a conversation we should have…..

with Jesus.