Most people are touch starved today…... Why ?
Albanian teaches about the power of touch.... We have lost the power of "touch" in North America..... I'm in a Malian culture where male friends innocently hold hands, but to do so with your wife in public is a scandal. This chapter was powerful.... A good reminder that even religious people instill a lot of fear.....about touch. His host muslim family in Albania
ANI TOOK TWO QUICK STRIDES AND HE WAS STANDING NEARLY against me. This was not the first time I would be startled by the scant size of the Albanian spatial bubble. He took my hand in his. His face shone in the early evening light with a huge smile and sparkling eyes. His head bobbled slightly as he talked. He spun several sentences of what sounded only of gibberish to my shamefully unseasoned American ears. Then it happened. Startling, to say the least. If you had asked, I would have said that it was impossible for Ani and me to stand any closer. I was wrong. So very wrong. Gripping my hand and forearm, Ani pulled me closer. Then he pulled me closer still. He was not a large man, but I could not deny his strength. Then, with celebrative force, he kissed me square on the cheek. Remembering it now, my memories move in slow motion. He slowly released, pulling away only so slightly. I can imagine the look on my face. In shock, I watched his face pass in front of mine, only millimeters separating our noses, mouths, and chins. His face was all smile and bobble. Then he kissed my other cheek, just as hospitably as he did the first. Only then did he step away. There was still moisture on the soft center of each of my cheeks. That night, as I lay in the dark on my divan-style bed, staring at the ceiling, I could still feel the shape of his lips on each cheek. This was one of my first experiences with one of my favorite men I have ever known. Touch was stolen from me. It was stolen from me by the American story. It was stolen from me by our puritanical religious roots, and by an entertainment culture that turns affection into sensuality. It was stolen from me by a thousand church scandals that have left pastors afraid to even talk to a parishioner behind closed doors. And it has been stolen from me by a generation of homophobia that calls all same-gender affection into question. Society and religion have bedded together to relegate touch to either the sexual or the inappropriate, with little in between......
That year I started to read my Bible in a new way. I started to see touch everywhere, particularly in the Gospels: fathers embracing sons, secretive contact by a peasant woman, a disciple leaning on Jesus’ bosom, hands washing and drying feet, heads anointed with oil, “Put your finger here; see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it into my side.”…......
I fear that touch, redeeming and healing touch, has just simply been lost…....
However, there are some things that the Web has not even come close to duplicating: a comforting touch on a shoulder, a sympathetic squeeze of the hand, a reassuring hug. The very act of touching is a miracle. Touch connects us to the other. Touch transmits and affirms humanity. Touch welcomes. Touch says, “You are not alone.” Touch declares the other’s coequality with all God-image beings. Ultimately, the holy touch of godly people can erase a lifetime of isolation, rejection, and daily sentencing to society’s margins. Touch validates. Touch is love."
( Neighbors and Wise Men: Sacred Encounters in a Portland Pub and Other Unexpected Places. Tony Kriz)
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