The Bride or the Bed by Anthony Young

The Bride or The Bed - Unmasking the Struggle Between Lust and Love

By Anthony Young

I have spread my bed with tapestry,

Colored coverings of Egyptian linen. 

I have perfumed my bed with myrrh, aloes, and cinnamon. 

Come, let us take our fill of love until morning;

Let us delight ourselves with love.

Proverbs 7:16-18 NKJV

Solomon wrote about a bed adorned with tapestry, colored coverings of Egyptian linen, and perfumed with myrrh, aloes, and cinnamon. There is a clear invitation—an entrapment—for the one passing by the bed to enter and indulge in transactional love until morning, to find delight in the pleasures of the flesh. The imagery is powerful, and the allure is tempting. But inside this metaphor lies a deeper question: have you perfumed your bed or yourself?

Are we, as a church, more concerned about the consecration and character of the person or the thrill and exhilaration of the performance?

 For a performer, the focus lies on perfecting the stage—ensuring that “the bed” looks impeccable and smells exquisite. I invite you to consider where the performer places more energy. Is it on creating an appealing platform for a flawless performance, or is it focused on nurturing their own well-being? Their persona or their personhood?

 I ask you this question: have you perfumed your bed or yourself?

 In modern, personality-driven ministry, it seems extra care is placed on how well the bed looks and how good it smells. The stench of sin is too often masked and smothered by a heavily perfumed bed.

 What stage are you trying to make look perfect? Where is your place of performance, and is more energy being directed there than on your character, the faithful stewardship of the revelation God has given you, and the quality of the content you present?

 If you perfume the bed, you are a performer. The bed becomes the only place that exudes a captivating fragrance.

 If you put the oil on yourself, you are a lover.  When we perfume ourselves, we carry that beautiful scent with us wherever we go. We are not prostitutes—we become lovers, giving and receiving offerings, engaging in a relationship that is not transactional but filled with genuine connection.

 Queen Esther was known for her wisdom and grace. God called her for a specific task that required a huge sacrificial preparation for a single, pivotal moment. Esther spent a year sequestered and unseen, anointing herself daily with oil before presenting herself to the king. She understood the importance of investing in her self-care and radiance.

 In a performance-driven environment, where the focus is solely on the bed, there is a risk of contracting spiritual diseases. Just as in a pay-to-play setting, where transactions replace genuine connection, the leaven (lifestyles and culture) of the Herodians and the Pharisees can seep into our souls. Jesus warned us about the dangers of such environments.

 Performance is intoxicating. It excites crowds. Performers go from bed to bed to bed, high on pleasure, influence, and fame, while producing illegitimate offspring they have no intention of sheltering or providing for. Doesn’t that sound kind of like a guy who dresses up real nice to go to a club to entice the females? It's all about his pleasure, not theirs.

 Has the world taken cues from the church?

 Has the church chosen leaders based on their polished looks and presentations, akin to the prostitute on the corner, with honey dripping from her lips, enticing the crowds but lacking true commitment?

Are we witnessing a shift where the church becomes more about performance than genuine connection with the lover of their soul?

 The Apostolic Reformation within the church is at a pivotal point. Apostolic fathers will be known by their ability to produce and then suffer to provide for what they have produced. True apostolic leadership is marked by suffering—the passion to sacrifice for what they love—not merely the number of followers under their covering. How many children does the polished, uncommitted man have?

When we fail to grasp this truth, we are led by immature children—playboy leaders who have never experienced true fatherhood. Our grandchildren will bear the heavy burden of our abandonment of responsibility as men.

 When we follow the world's order and focus solely on perfuming our beds, we become selfish kings instead of sacrificial fathers. As in Samuel’s day, these leaders take sons and daughters to serve his interests, advance him personally, and build his own mini-kingdom.[i] These leaders reap all the benefits while the people become their servants rather than sons.

True fathers who are full of passion are called to the widows, just as Elijah was. Their passion breathes life into dead sons. Will you stretch your body across their lifeless forms, believing in the power of fatherhood to resurrect them?

 The widow's house is a place of emptiness, yearning to be filled. Kings and creditors will exploit her and subject her sons to forced labor, but fathers will bring them back from the dead and infuse them with life. Fathers are called to the widow's house, where empty vessels await.

 In the realm of desire, lust often becomes the catalyst to create another person's suffering. The selfish pursuit of influence or power blinds us to the pain we inflict upon others in our search for gratification. In these moments, when purpose slips from our grasp, sin eagerly takes its place. Our lust unleashed will cause other people to suffer for our own carnal desires. Our passion for something greater than and outside of ourselves is what empowers us to embrace suffering for a higher good—for the benefit of others.

 Consider King David, a man of great power and authority, gazing down at his hand—a hand that should have wielded a sword in battle. Instead, he caught a glimpse of Bathsheba and succumbed to the allure of another man's wife. In that instant, lust clouded the judgment of a man who was known for being after God’s heart. A mere moment of self-gratification led him astray from his divine assignment. The hand that once held the sacred now grasped the poison pill of sin. He swallowed it, and it created a string of consequences that affected those he had been anointed to protect and serve.

 David's misguided passion resulted in creating a widow and the death of the illegitimate son she bore him. This lust-filled liaison is in stark contrast to Elisha's passion when he lies across the body of a widow’s dead son, breathing life back into him.

 Apostolic fathers circumcise sons. Selfish, power-hungry, personal kingdom builders have them castrated. Misguided passion creates widows and illegitimate offspring. True passion visits the widow’s house and brings restoration to her and her lifeless sons.

 Think about the sphere God has called you to influence.  What gets the oil, the bed or the bride? The preacher or the platform?

See 1 Samuel 8:11-17, NIV.

 The Bride or the Bed © 2024 Anthony Young. All Rights Reserved.