Tag Archives: sex

Christians, Sex, and Marriage, part 2(ish)

A while ago Evan wrote “Christians, Sex and Marriage”, in which he discussed the culture of sex among Christian young adults. Most of them, it was assumed, would be “saving themselves” for marriage, which is (on the surface) a fairly safe assumption, and applicable to a fair amount of Christian students. The culture of silence about sex, however, and the nervous giggles that attend any discussion of it, and the lack of admission that respected, smiling young Christian couples could possibly be doing anything but kissing chastely behind the dormitories makes me want to shout from the rooftops:

Lots of Christian students are having sex. What’s more worrisome is that lots of Christian students are professionals at alternately justifying and denying it.

Even more students are doing everything they possibly can with each other as often as possible without having the kind of sex that potentially impregnates women—and yeah, I think that the long list of not-actually-that-kind-of-sex possibilities is significantly different from the real deal. I also think that it’s sex. I’m pretty sure it would be as defined by our commandment-following-12-year-old selves, at least.

The problem with sex (for nervous promise-ringed young adults) is that it’s a good thing. The other commandments have translated pretty well into a social behavioral code, because one could argue that stealing, lying, murder, etc. are basically destructive things; sex, however, out of all of the commandments, is not.

So sex is super important, is my point, and an essentially good thing. It is one of the most creative things humans can do. It’s taught to us, however, with all the other Evangelical commandments: Don’t be drunk, Don’t do drugs, Don’t have sex. It’s treated, largely, as a thing to be avoided, feared, or even dismissed (“I Love My Future Wife, And I haven’t Even Met Her Yet” shirts, I’m looking at you). Our sex drives, in a vestigial Gnosticism in the contemporary church that saddens me, are seen as shameful things to be suppressed or ignored.

This attitude works fine until we are actually with someone. The main reason to remain celibate was often, basically, “Because the Bible says so,” an argument which weakens palpably the moment you’re alone with an attractive human being who’s attracted to you too. Most of the sex—including the sex leading up to the “real” sex, which, yes, is very different and which, yes, I’m going to continue to assert is still a big deal (commandment-breaking, I would posit, if you’re concerned about such things)—is wrapped up in substantial layers of vague guilt and shame and self-berating.

To assuage our guilt, we also end up deciding upon arbitrary Ultimate Borders of Virginity (which tend towards frequent revision), e.g., “We’re going to keep on all our clothes.” We then realize, e.g., how much one (I guess two) can actually accomplish while remaining clothed. Rinse and repeat with almost any “line” with which we decide to define Purity. I have never seen any line, like “hands above the waist,” work for a couple. Ever. And yet, sadly, it seems to be one of the main strategies of the inhabitants of steamy cars (or, for the carless: stairways, practice rooms, lean-tos, lobbies, cafeteria booths, parking lots, closets, or lawns).

So what we do is immerse ourselves in cycles of guilt and denial and more guilt. This, needless to say, isn’t super healthy. We start to talk about how it’s basically impossible to find a consistent definition of “adultery” as it’s used in the Old Testament. We find out that “fornication” often only applied to women and commandments against it are preceded by things like “don’t marry your dead husband’s brother.” We reassure ourselves that “sexual immorality” in the New Testament, when you come down to it, is pretty vague. The subject of our “Virginity Rocks” t-shirts becomes somewhat more complex than perhaps we once thought, and these newfound nuances conveniently complement our recently emerged interests.

This quick justification, while rather impressive in its ability to persuade even the previously prudest new couples (our argumentative skills and ability to think outside the box can probably be attributed to a strong liberal arts education), is seriously unhealthy. We are taught from an early age to regard sex as plainly Bad, down there with murder and lying and stealing, and so when we realize that it isn’t quite so terrible, it’s pretty easy to renege on our former simplistic convictions. This—not the sex itself, but the quick way in which we flip from “Obviously Not” to “well maybe just a little bit”—is worrisome.

Christian students are deprived of practical conversation about sex. It seems that the contemporary Christian church doesn’t really know what to do with sex besides tell young people to avoid it. Unless the goal is to leave young people confused and ridden with guilt, unless the goal is to communicate an attitude of oversimplified fear and denial when it comes to sex, and unless we prefer a confused silence to more risky and constructive dissenting discourse, the attitude with which sex is approached throughout young Christians’ lives needs to change.

Christians, Sex, and Marriage

A few nights ago I sat on a friend’s front porch, nursing my drink and amusedly watching at least one of them smoke a cigar. Our conversation meandered here and there, but eventually struck a notable point when the married one directed at another:

You know, you will probably not have sex on your wedding night. Your wife will be far too tight.

While this was hilarious largely due to the person he was talking to [and his particular stance on women/relationships], it stuck with me because of  the assumptions that were present in the statement.

Firstly, there was the assumption that all of us were Christians [most of us were]. The second assumption was that as Christians  we were saving ourselves for  marriage, and that in turn we were also looking for a spouse that would uphold the same ideals. This happens to be true for me, and it got me thinking about a topic I’ve thought a lot about before.

As a Christian who would like to one day be married, what are my options? Attending a Christian college certainly helps, and the aforementioned question explains why we have the terms “ring by spring” and “getting my MRS.” There’s a pervasive feeling that there’s only so much time to find that special someone, and once you’re out in the real world your search multiplies in difficulty.

There is a culture of Christian young people, and as young people their search for that significant other is constantly manifesting itself. Bible studies for those in high school, colleges and careers groups for those a little bit older, both become hunting grounds for eligible dudes/ladies. A friend of mine, when talking about her church’s young adult group, related that the guys there basically gauged the dateability of every girl there before waiting around for new members.

This reveals a lot about world views, the Christian, and, by reversing this view, the non-Christian. In one there is the expectation to stay pure and for your future spouse to do the same. In the other the assumption is that the person you will marry will have had sexual partners [though hopefully not too many]. The former is plagued by the fear that they may not find the one. The latter suffers the same phobia, yet finds itself with quite a few more options.

I haven’t done the math, so I can’t tell you with complete certainty that Christians are searching more desperately than their peers of alternate beliefs. I can, however, tell you that I can definitely wait a few more years before marriage becomes something I seriously think about. But I can’t speak for anyone else.