In this groundbreaking work, Martin Zender asks the one question that no other book on human sexuality asks: Why is there sex in the first place? No other book makes procreation a side-effect rather than the raison d'etre of sexual attraction. Never content with knowing how things are (everyone knows that women look great in pumps while men look ridiculous), Zender explains why they are. From the genesis of eroticism in Eden to your bedroom, Divine Principles of Sexual Attraction demystifies the behaviors of both sexes, at the same time making both men and women content with who God made them. You'll never look at the opposing gender the same way again.
The magnetism between men and women is
the most powerful, most prolific force on
Earth. It is a power that launches armies, shatters
kingdoms, and destroys as many lives as it generates.
Why is it so ridiculously—strong?
Many would say: procreation. Yet God could
certainly bring more human beings into the world
without, say, spaghetti straps. Or Brut cologne. Or
kissing; why the urge to mesh mouths in the first
place? What does the exchange of saliva have to do
with the transference of seed? And this: does the race
perish apart from red roses? Lace-topped stockings? Satin sheets? I am wondering now about soft music and candlelight. Can we not duplicate ourselves without Ravel’s Boléro?
We are taught to picture God as an old man with a white beard. No
description of Him could be further from the truth; God does not
resemble Merlin the Magician. God is not a man, and neither does He
resemble one. God Himself is invisible; He is spirit (John 4:24);
spirit is His essence. Yet His essence is the most beautiful thing
imaginable. We cannot see God, but we behold, day by day, that which
has come from Him, that is, His creation.
Notice in Genesis the
progressive nature of God’s creation. He begins with plants: azalea
bushes, sunflowers, wheat, grass, elm trees, and dandelions. He then
fills the seas with living, moving souls: plankton, starfish, crabs,
scallops, seals, and the giant sperm whale. The sperm whale is a
step up from the dandelion—somewhat. The celestial citizens,
beholding all this, marvel at God’s power.
Without stopping, God
then populates the near heavens with various flying things: eagles,
hawks, wrens, and the yellow-bellied sapsucker. The sapsucker surely
stupefied the celestial worldmights, who no doubt supposed it to be
God’s coup de grace.
They were wrong about that.
Next from God’s hand came
the life that crawls upon land: ants, porcupines, warthogs,
elephants, and cats. Ah, now we have it. Surely with cats God had
exhausted His creative genius.
On day six, God created Adam. As Adam arose from a pile of mud, a hush befell heaven. Before the gaze of all stood a being of reason and wonder, able to kneel and sniff the soil in awe at his own quintessence. At last, the ceiling.
Well, not so fast. Surely heaven caught its collective breath as Eve ascended to full height, dressed in a halo of morning mist. What wide, smooth hips. Her legs! My God! They’re longer than the gazelle’s! Birds must have alighted upon her, while butterflies flitted to her hair. The piano had yet to be invented, but
whatever celestial instrument prefaced it struck gorgeous tones. For here was not merely another human, but an improved specimen.
In our modern language, Eve was Adam 2.0.
The celestial attendants looked at God, then at Eve; then at God, then at Eve; then at God, then at Eve; God, Eve, God, Eve—on it went. With the thousandth pass, light dawned. Adam mirrored God’s strength, but here, in the woman, the celestial world perceived God’s crushing beauty.
As did the first man.
Woman is proof, upon the Earth, of the irrestible gorgeousness of God.
Therefore a man shall forsake his father and his mother and cling to his wife, and they two become one flesh. —Genesis 2:23-24