Elizabeth Smart, Human Trafficking, and Purity Culture

We’ve spoken in the past about the harmful effects of a shame-based purity culture that treats women (and men) who have had sex before marriage as “damaged goods.”  

Many of us who grew up in the Church sat through at least one or two horrific object lessons reinforcing the idea that premarital sex ruins a person for good. Perhaps everyone in the youth group spat into a cup, or perhaps a rose was trampled and torn to pieces, or perhaps a construction-paper heart was ripped to shreds.  

Kidnapping survivor Elizabeth Smart recently spoke at a Johns Hopkins University human trafficking forum about her own experience, and said she understood why some victims of trafficking stay with their abusers. 

From the Christian Science Monitor: 

Smart said she “felt so dirty and so filthy” after she was raped by her captor, and she understands why someone wouldn't run “because of that alone.”

Smart spoke at a Johns Hopkins human trafficking forum, saying she was raised in a religious household and recalled a school teacher who spoke once about abstinence and compared sex to chewing gum.

“I thought, ‘Oh, my gosh, I'm that chewed up piece of gum, nobody re-chews a piece of gum, you throw it away.' And that's how easy it is to feel like you no longer have worth, you no longer have value," Smart said. "Why would it even be worth screaming out? Why would it even make a difference if you are rescued? Your life still has no value."

Obviously, there are many other reasons a victim might stay with his or her abuser, and Elizabeth was certainly not placing the blame for her abduction on the purity culture, but before we dismiss those speaking out against these sort of shaming tactics that have become so prevalent in the Church, we must consider the effects the “damaged goods” narrative can have on young hearts and minds. 

I am so grateful to Elizabeth, who has dedicated much of her time to protecting and educating children about violent and sexual crimes through the Elizabeth Smart Foundation and spreading the good word that “ you will always have value and nothing can change that.” 

Talk about a woman of valor! 

So what’s the alternative? How can we teach young people to value the sacredness of sex and the importance of responsibility without resorting to shame-based, fear-based tactics? 

A Letter to LGBT Student Groups (and Allies) at Christian Colleges

I don’t know much about what it’s like to be you, but I figure it can’t be easy. 

Many of you face discrimination and double standards. Others are forced to operate “underground.” It must be painful to watch when faculty members who support you face investigations and threats, or when your presence seems to divide the community you love.  I know many of you fear expulsion for simply telling the truth, and I suspect that as your high school classmates beam out “It Gets Better” videos from their state school dorm rooms, you can’t help but wonder sometimes when things will get better for you. 

I’m sorry for the way you have been treated.  It’s unfair, and it’s wrong. 

I also know that in some cases, your groups are thriving…which can be both thrilling and terrifying. There are growing pains involved, and those of you in leadership know that growth too can be hard. You are making mistakes, I am sure—perhaps pushing too hard in one situation, or not hard enough in another. You are wondering when it’s right to raise hell and when it’s right to hold back.  You are navigating some tricky territory, speaking the truth in love while trying to figure out the truth yourself.  You probably feel exposed sometimes, overwhelmed sometimes, alone sometimes. 

But you are not alone. 

And I want you to know that I’ve got your back. 

I fully support your desire to fellowship, to wrestle, to debate, to discuss, to pray, to cry, and to worship together publicly, out of the shadows of secrecy and into the light of truth.  Where two or three are gathered in the name of Jesus, the presence of Jesus is there…no matter what anyone else says, no matter whether you are officially recognized as a group.  

I want you to know that I pray for you. Often. 

I pray that if you lack wisdom, you will seek it in the God who “gives generously to all without finding fault.”  

I pray you will find those friends, those professors, and those quiet places on campus that make you feel safe and at home. 

I pray you will come to know Jesus better, even when he seems so far ahead you’re not sure you can follow any longer. 

I pray you will learn to love yourself and take care of yourself—resting when you need to, laughing when you need to, STUDYING when you need to (!), saying “no” when you need to, crying when you need to, speaking up when you need to, and listening to the wise counsel of others when you need to.  

I pray you find a community of faith that gives you room to stretch and grow and screw up and start over. 

I pray for you. Often. 

But most of all, I want you to know that your love for a Church that doesn’t always love you back astounds me. 

It challenges and inspires me. 

It moves me to push past my own petty grievances against the Bride and just show up—even when it’s hard, even when it’s not all figured out. 

I want you to know that I look up to you. 

I have seen in you the sort of faithfulness, persistence, honesty, forgiveness, and patience I long for in my own life. May I wrestle through my own questions of identity with the same integrity and courage as you do. May my love for those with whom I disagree be as remarkable as yours.

I don’t know much about what it’s like to be you. But I value those times we’ve spent talking over coffee and exchanging emails. We always seem to find one another when I’m on a college campus, and I’m beginning to think it’s because we’re the same kind of people—broken, wrestling, hopeful, brave…ragamuffins and misfits just taking it one day at a time. 

I love you, and I am honored to be your sister in Christ. 

Hang in there. 

I’ve got your back. 

- Rachel 

On Mixed Orientation Marriages: Four Stories

As we’ve been discussing homosexuality as part of our yearlong series on Sexuality & The Church, I’ve been surprised by how many readers have contacted me about their mixed orientation marriages, both past and present. So today I wanted to yield the floor to several people with first-hand experiences in this area, each with a different story. 

Leigh Ann Taylor – Divorced (& Remarried) 

I had the privilege of meeting Leigh Ann when I visited Blacksburg, Virginia a few months ago and was struck by her warm, encouraging spirit. She and her ex-husband, Joe Cobb, have co-authored a book entitled Our Family Outing, which tells the riveting, heartbreaking, and hopeful story of a family that must face the reality that their husband/father is gay. When Leigh Anne met Joe, she never imagined that thirteen years into their marriage he would come out as a gay man. When Joe came out to Leigh Anne, he never imagined that thirteen years after their divorce, he and his partner James would choose Leigh Anne to be the godmother for their second child. I recently spoke with Leigh Anne: 

First, share with us your story. When did you find out that your husband was attracted to men, and what happened after that? 

Joe and I met when we were in seminary.  We fell in love shortly after we met and were married less than a year later.  Although I told him my whole dating history after we were engaged, he was vague about his.  Thinking that there might be some abuse in his past, I didn’t probe.  If I had, I would’ve learned that he’d been attracted to men since he was 10 years old and that he’d been in a sexual relationship with a man while he was in high school and college. 

He kept his secret and we were married for 13 years.  We became parents to two children, and we both had active careers in ministry.  In our twelfth year of marriage, both of us were on the staff of a large church in Kansas.  I was perpetually exhausted from juggling work and caring for two preschoolers, Joe was absent and totally focused on work.  I became depressed.  I got myself to the therapist and asked Joe to go too, so we could work on the emotional chasm in our marriage.  I was completely unprepared for what he said to me after his first visit: "I don't know if I'm gay or straight and I've been with a man."  

After I recovered from the shock of his confession, I was surprisingly relieved.  I finally understood why our marriage was suffering, and it wasn't me.  I said to Joe, "I'll stay with you as long as you’re in therapy to figure out if you're gay or straight.  When you come to some peace about that, we'll figure out what to do about our marriage."  I was hopeful early on that we would be able to continue our life as a couple, but as his therapy progressed, Joe became certain that he had to be with a man to be whole and I became certain that I could not stay married to gay man.  Soon after we divorced, the kids and I moved to Virginia so I could have the support of my family as I started a new season in my life.  Joe stayed in Kansas for two more years until he was asked to surrender his credentials as a pastor.  He moved to Virginia and has been a regular part of our kid’s lives ever since.

Tell us about your current relationship with Joe and his partner. 

In the 15 years since our divorce, we’ve both remarried. Joe and James and my husband Hugh and I make a pretty awesome parenting team for our two children, who are now 19 and 21 years old.  We get together in each other's homes for the kid's birthdays, milestones, and for holidays. Joe and James have two children, a son, 3 and a daughter, 5, who are James' biological children, born through a surrogate and an egg donor.  I am James’ son's godmother.  The older children adore the younger children and visa versa. My husband Hugh is a champ about it all, "I don't get it, but I don't have to. They're great guys and we're all part of the family."

One thing I loved about your book, Leigh Anne, is how you shared with readers some of the prayers you prayed as you journeyed through this experience of finding out your husband is gay, struggling through therapy, divorcing, and remarrying. They are beautiful prayers, applicable to all of us, even if our circumstances are different from yours. Tell us, what are some important things you learned about self-care through all of this? 

For the first time in my life, I learned that I really did have to put my own oxygen mask on before I could assist anyone else.  I still remember that moment in the produce aisle, when I said to myself, "Avocados....I like avocados."  I started in the vegetables aisle and moved right on up to a new bicycle and a fancy coat with a faux-fur collar!  I stopped waiting around for someone else to "make me happy” and found that I was quite capable of doing that for myself.  I was single for a long time and struggled with loneliness, but I learned from experience that I was far happier at home reading a novel than I was dating the wrong person.  When I took care of myself, I was able to be more calm and loving toward the children and best of all, when I met my husband Hugh, I had a lot more to offer to our relationship than just my need.

The most important thing I did to take care of myself was daily journaling and prayer.  I literally wrote my way to mental health in my prayer journal. 

And do you have a favorite, go-to prayer that helped especially during this journey with Joe? 

 "God be in my head and in my understanding.  God be in my eyes and in my looking.  God be in my ears and in my listening.  God be in my mouth and in my speaking.  God be in my heart and in my thinking.  God be at my end and at my departing."

I prayed this at the beginning of the day, taking a deep inhalation when the first half of each sentence and a deep exhalation on the second. I imagined Jesus breathing peace into me, just as he did the disciples. This prayer was and is a lifeline for me.

Another memorable part of the book is when you share the letter you wrote to your children explaining to them why you and Joe were getting a divorce. It was touching, heartbreaking, and (surprisingly) hopeful. Are there any words of encouragement you can offer to parents in mixed orientation marriages for whom divorce seems inevitable? 

Joe and I actually made a new vow when we signed our divorce papers, "to speak and act in loving ways toward one another and about one another," for the sake of the children and for our own wholeness, for the rest of our lives.  We released each other from the vows we made at our marriage with a blessing as we opened ourselves up to the possibility of new relationships, in which we could be whole.  To those for whom divorce seems inevitable, is there a way you can release each other from your marriage vows but hold on to the love that drew you together in the first place? Can you imagine what your lives would look like if love and honor remain the cornerstone of your relationship?

What advice do you have for other women (or men) who are either considering entering into a mixed orientation marriage or have recently learned that they are in one? 

If you’ve recently learned that you’re in a mixed orientation marriage, please reach out with the truth of your story to someone you trust.  A therapist is a good place to start.  Be gentle with yourself and do the things that bring you comfort.  Though this feels like a death, and it is in some ways, it’s not the end of everything.  It’s a transition and there is life on the other side. It may not be the life you thought you were going to have, but it has the potential to be better than you ever dreamed. Pray. Pray. Pray.  You are not alone.

Be sure to check out Leigh Anne and Joe's book, Our Family Outing.

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John – Married 

John and his wife Anna are both 30 and live in the Denver area. (Additional details have been withheld to protect their privacy.) You can follow John on Twitter here. 

Share with us a little of your story. How did you and your wife meet, how long have you been married, and did you both know ahead of time that you were entering a mixed orientation marriage? 

My wife and I have been married for almost seven years. We originally met in high school. We were involved in the prayer club at the public high school and ended up going to the same youth group and church. At that point in my life I was aware of my sexual attractions for guys, but I was of the belief that it was sinful. I was "saved" when I was 14 and immediately starting sharing my testimony of "being set free from homosexuality". I was very enthusiastic in my newly found faith and really loved opening up, especially with other "on fire" Christians my age, about my story and my "struggles" with homosexuality.  So my wife, Anna, knew this about me before we were ever involved in any kind of romantic relationship. 

After knowing each other and being involved in the same church for several years, we started dating and got married. Basically, as a charismatic evangelical, I had an "ex-gay" paradigm for understanding my own homosexuality. My wife was of a similar faith at that time and I was able to communicate what I believed about this particular issue. So all in all, we sorta knew what we were getting in to, but neither one of us understood it or labeled it as a "mixed orientation marriage". We thought of it as a marriage between a man and woman as God intended, accomplished through his grace even in the midst of my "same-sex" attraction. It is probably important for you to know that about three years ago, our understanding and beliefs about homosexuality underwent a major shift. Our "faith" has also recently been deconstructed.

What are the biggest challenges of a marriage like yours? What are the biggest rewards? 

We have had several challenges along the way. They have ranged from my struggles with compulsive sexual behaviors at times (though I have never had sexual contact with anyone outside of our marriage nor have I put my wife/family at risk for any STDs), to run-of-the-mill communication problems. My wife has endured long seasons of dealing with my anxiety, depression, and detachment. I have at times felt stuck and unable to really be me. 

On the other hand, we have also enjoyed so many things together. We have created three amazing and beautiful children. We have shared the joy of life's accomplishments together, we've faced questions and doubts together, we have had each other to cry with. I think our marriage offers us the unique ability to have a marriage that really doesn't have to follow some of the "heterosexual" rules and expectations--especially when it comes to gender roles. The best part, and bottom line, is that we love each other and enjoy "doing life" together.

What do you most want us to know about you, your marriage, and your spouse? 

What I most want people to know about me, in regards to my marriage, is that I am not living a lie. At the time we got married, I was as truthful with myself, my wife, and with everyone else, as I knew/understood to be at the time. Even now, my marriage to my wife is just as real and a part of me as my being gay. Sometimes I get asked why I remain married, and again, in addition to loving my wife, the truth is we are committed to each other. I understand true love to be the kind of love that endures all things and doesn't end. What I want everyone to know about my wife is that she is the most kind, loving, patient, gracious, intelligent person I know. I think she is beautiful, and I very much want to and enjoy spending my life with her. And no, my wife is not gay! We get asked that a lot. Also, we are aware that our marriage is not "typical" when compared to a heterosexual norm, and we are really okay with that and mostly really enjoy it.

What advice do you have for other couples who are either considering entering into a mixed orientation marriage or have recently learned that they are in one? 

I think in most cases, I would strongly discourage anyone from getting into this kind of marriage, if they aren't already in one. There are so many contributing factors for how folks end up here and, in my experience, it's usually because the gay spouse believes their homosexuality to be wrong and something they are either ashamed of and hide altogether or something they believe will change or go away. There is no reason at all, that I can think of, for a healthy whole gay person to enter in to a marriage with someone of the opposite sex. 

It's a bit harder to offer advice to folks who have just discovered they are in a mixed orientation marriage, or are coming to terms with being in one, because the circumstances are always so different. What I have found is that each couple in this situation really has to do what is best for them...whatever that might be. I know some couples who continue to live together but sleep separately. Some have "open marriages," while others truly have no better option, given their circumstances, than to divorce. Basically, do the best you can with what you have. I happen to have an amazing wife, a beautiful family, and the best I can do is remain here with them and do my best to love them better and better each day.

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"Doxy" - Divorced (& Remarried)

"Doxy" is a longtime reader of the blog.

Share with us a little of your story. When did you find out that your husband was attracted to men, and what happened after that?

Some background may be helpful. My ex (I’ll call him “Paul”) and I attended the same fundamentalist Christian school and church, although we only began dating toward the end of college. (We both went to a large, urban public university in the southern city in which we grew up.)

I want to say up-front that Paul was my soul mate. We shared so many loves—ideas, music, politics. He always treated me as if he thought I was the smartest, most amazing person on the planet. He was firmly convinced that I could hang the moon if I wanted to—and because he believed so strongly in me, I slowly learned to believe in myself. This was a great gift, especially given what I would term the “anti-woman environment” in which we had grown up.

When we were dating, Paul confessed that he had had some sexual experiences with an older, male relative. He framed these experiences as “just playing around,” and the only reason he even confessed them was because this relative had become bitterly jealous of our relationship and was engaging in stalker-like behavior.

As part of my studies in college, I had read the Kinsey studies about how common homosexual experiences were among straight men—and I fancied myself something of a sophisticate at the ripe old age of 21. I figured Paul’s experiences were just a blip on the radar screen, and he did nothing to discourage that perception. We talked about fidelity and monogamy, and we seemed perfectly in sync on the need for both in marriage.

We were married in our home church in front of 400 people we had known for most of our lives. Then we promptly moved away so that he could attend law school and I could begin graduate school.

Over the course of the next three years, he became more open about the fact that he was attracted to men. He admitted that people in the church with whom he had discussed his same-sex attractions had urged him to get married and to avoid both gay people and pornography. They were sure that he would be “cured” if only he would commit himself to heterosexuality and ask for God’s guidance—but it wasn’t working.

At the same time, Paul was also very clear that he loved me and was happy in our marriage. But I began to feel more and more worried about our relationship—especially the sexual aspect of it. Our sex life had always been good, but I was increasingly troubled by the notion that maybe he was fantasizing about men when he was with me, that maybe he HAD to fantasize about men in order to be with me...

And then, as law school graduation loomed and we were planning our post-school life, the inevitable happened.

Paul fell in love with another man.

I started hearing a certain name more and more in his conversation. He got that glow you only have when you are newly enraptured with another human being. It seemed as if his feet hardly touched the ground, and he was distracted and giddy.

I had never asked Paul point-blank if he had been faithful to me during our marriage. I had gotten a law school education by osmosis, and one of the first things law students learn is “Never ask a question to which you don’t already know the answer.” The truth is that I hadn’t wanted to know—but I knew I couldn’t remain in a state of willful ignorance any longer.

So I screwed my courage to the sticking place and said: “How have you managed to remain faithful? Or have you?”

The answer hurt worse than I believed possible. Not only was he having an affair with the object of his affections, but it turned out that Paul had been having sex with other men the entire time we had been dating and throughout our marriage.

This was in the late 1980s, when the AIDS epidemic was decimating the gay community. An AIDS diagnosis was still considered a death sentence then, because there was only one treatment at that time (AZT) and it was more of a stop-gap measure than anything else. I had been having unprotected sex with my husband all the while. (For the record, both of us were—and continue to be—HIV-negative.)

I was devastated. I had honestly never suspected him of anything until he fell in love and couldn’t hide it anymore. The fear of getting AIDS paled next to the realization that I had been betrayed by the man I loved most in the world.

For the next few months, I teetered back and forth between the belief that we could somehow repair the damage and make our relationship work and the urge to bolt out the door and never look back. One minute I was tearfully begging him to stay with me. The next, I was feeling anger for which the word “rage” was a very pale description.

Paul actually didn’t need to be begged. He wanted to stay married—but he also wanted to have his boyfriend too. He had always been something of a sunny optimist, and he truly believed that the three of us could take a house by the sea and be happy together.

As much as I loved him, I could not be that person. I took a job in another city on the other side of the country, and our marriage was over.

What do you most want us to know about you, your marriage, and your ex? 

My marriage was a real marriage, and it was a very good relationship in many ways. My husband loved me. We had a good sex life. We were good for each other. Paul believed in me so much that he made me believe in myself, and I tried to return the favor. He was—and is—a sweet, kind, and generous man who is beloved by many.

But none of that was enough. Because no matter how much we wanted to make it work, the very core of his heart could never belong to me. He could not love me the way I needed and deserved to be loved by a husband. And I could not give him what his heart, soul, and body cried out for.

I was—and remain—angry at religious leaders who tell same-sex-attracted people that they can, and should, “choose” heterosexuality and marry an opposite-sex partner. I have no idea how my life would have been different if Paul had not been steered to marry me as a means of “becoming normal”—but I suspect that the heartbreak of another failed marriage 15 years later might have been avoided. In trying not to repeat the mistakes I made with Paul, I went too far in the opposite direction and found myself in a relationship that nearly drove me to suicide before God stepped in and helped me find my way out.

The price we both paid for our mixed-orientation marriage was high—and so much of the damage was caused by the church and by people claiming to speak for God. In all things, however, God was gracious—turning our personal tragedy into something redemptive and healing.

I came to recognize that being gay was not a choice, so I delved deeply into biblical scholarship and theology to find what the Bible had to say about homosexuality. The answer was: very little. Certainly nothing like the extent to which it talked about loving your neighbors and recognizing those who love God by the way they live their lives. Since I saw LGBT Christians being faithful to God, and I saw their relationships bearing such good and holy fruit, I could no longer sit by and let the whole world believe that all Christians think being LGBT is sinful. So I became an ardent LGBT ally and advocate. I hoped that social acceptance of LGBTs would lead to an acceptance of their relationships—and prevent anyone from ever again being coerced into a marriage to appear “normal.”

I may have lost a husband, but I did not lose my friend. Over time, Paul and I managed to build a very strong friendship on the wreckage of our marriage. We are still in regular touch with one another. We call, e-mail, and visit, and my children call him and his partner of 20 years “Uncle Paul and Uncle Steve.” We still joke—as we always have—that we will end up in the nursing home together, racing our wheelchairs down the hallways.

I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if we did.

What advice do you have for other women (or men) who are either considering entering into a mixed orientation marriage or have recently learned that they are in one?

If you are a same-sex-attracted person who is considering entering a mixed-orientation marriage, I would say “Please don’t!” Being married will not make you straight. If you are primarily attracted to people of your own sex, you will be denying yourself the possibility of being TRULY known and loved, for all that you are.

And you will be denying your opposite-sex spouse the same thing. No matter how much you love each other, there will always be something missing for you both. Marriage is hard enough—entering into it when you cannot honestly commit to it mind, heart, soul, and body is a recipe for heartbreak for the two of you, your families, friends, and any children you may have.

(I am well-aware that there are bisexual people who can and do commit to an opposite-sex partner and remain faithful in marriage. My advice is directed to people who are primarily attracted to members of their own sex.)

If you are a straight person who is considering knowingly entering a mixed-orientation marriage, I would caution you to reconsider. You may not have experienced the terrible feelings of insecurity you can have when your spouse is out with other people of the same sex, while you sit at home and stare at the clock. You might not know how it can feel to be in an intimate moment with your spouse and to suddenly wonder if you are truly desirable. Both of those things were soul-crushing for me, and for other straight spouses I’ve talked to since then.

But mostly, I caution against it because you will be denying yourself the possibility of knowing the kind of all-out, no-holds-barred love I believe that God wants us to experience in marriage. You deserve that. We all do.

Finally, if you have recently discovered that you and your spouse have different orientations, my advice is:  “Take your time before making any big decisions, and try to be kind to one another.”

Recently, I told a friend that, if Paul and I had been married for over two decades before I found out that he was gay, the decisions I would make might well be different. It was (relatively) easy to walk out at age 27 without any children. Would I do that now, at age 49 with two kids, two dogs, and a mortgage? I honestly don’t know.

I would ask: Do you both want to remain in the relationship? What matters most to both of you about your marriage? What will you do if your spouse says that having sexual relations outside the marriage is a part of the bargain? What can you live with? What is completely off the table?

These are not easy questions to answer. You will need a lot of support, whether you choose to stay together or not. There was no Internet when I learned my husband was gay, and I had to walk through the dissolution of my life by myself—now you can find thousands of others who are in your shoes and who are also looking for help and understanding. I would say the most important thing at first is don’t rush into anything. You need time to think, to weather those first storms of emotion, and to seek help.

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Josh and Lolly Weed – Married 

In addition, you may be familiar with Josh and Lolly Weed, a Mormon couple that has been open with the press about their mixed orientation marriage. They recently participated in an extended interview with the Mormon Stories podcast, which you can watch here. 

Note: I realize each of these stories is about a gay man and a straight woman. I reached out to several couples, and these were the ones who responded. Check out the comment section for links to additional resources.

Sexuality and the Christian Body, Part 2: “Grace & Election” (by Richard Beck)

A couple of week’s ago, I shared Part 1 of our friend Richard Beck’s thoughts on the book, Sexuality and the Christian Body by Eugene Rogers. Richard has graciously allowed me to share Part 2 (which originally ran on his blog) today, and I am so grateful. Really. Richard has been incredibly generous to share these posts in their entirety with us. (You may want to thank him next time you're on his blog.) 

As an aside, I hope this post will also inspire you to check out Rowan Williams’ important essay The Body’s Grace. I’ve been told on multiple occasions that we can’t have a series on Sexuality & The Church without discussing that essay, which is exactly what Richard does here, in the context of Rogers’ book. 

For those who feel a bit overwhelmed by reading two deep theology posts, Richard has distilled much of the theological content in a compare and contrast format in a post on his blog entitled “Same Sex Marriage in the Image of God?” There he presents both sides of the debate clearly, simply, and charitably.

Sexuality and the Christian Body, Part 2: “Grace & Election”

by Richard Beck 

A second major theme in Eugene Rogers' book Sexuality and the Christian Body is his interaction with and elaboration upon Rowan Williams' essay The Body's Grace. If you've not read The Body's Grace many consider it to be the most significant theological treatment of human sexuality in the 20th Century. You can decide that for yourself. Regardless, agree or not, The Body's Grace is considered required reading for theology students taking up the subject of human sexuality. So, before getting back to Rogers it might be helpful to sketch out some of the main moves inThe Body's Grace.

Williams opens the essay with the question: "Why does sex matter?" One part of the answer is negative: Sex matters because it is where our personhood is most exposed and vulnerable. This makes sex both tragic and comic:

 Nothing will stop sex being tragic and comic. It is above all the area of our lives where we can be rejected in our body entirety, where we can venture into the "exposed spontaneity" that Nagel talks about and find ourselves looking foolish or even repellent, so that the perception of ourselves we are offered is negating and damaging (homosexuals, I think, know rather a lot about this). And it is also where the awful incongruity of our situation can break through as comedy, even farce...

[Sex] is potentially farcical--no less for being on the edge of pain.

The reason sex can be so painful and tragic is that we expose ourselves to the perceptions of another. And this exposure carries great risk, psychically and spiritually. Consequently, we may choose to remove our sexuality from the communal sphere where there is so much risk, vulnerability, and exposure. Sex, then, becomes solitary and non-relational. Williams suggests that this retreat into isolation, removing sex from the perceptions of others, may be the best theological definition of sexual perversion:

 "Sexual "perversion" is sexual activity without risk, without the dangerous acknowledgement that my joy depends on someone else's, as theirs does on mine. Distorted sexuality is the effort to bring my happiness back under my control and to refuse to let my body be recreated by anther person's perception. And this is, in effect, to withdraw my body from the enterprise of human beings making sense in collaboration, in community, withholding my body from language, culture, and politics."

In light of this, healthy sexuality is allowing my personhood to be shaped by the perceptions of others. Sex is to enter into a communal space where there is giving and receiving, a mutuality, a sharing of selves and perceptions. This is why sex matters. It is a location where we discover our humanity through our being with others. Williams writes:

 "I can only fully discover the body's grace by taking time, the time needed for a mutual recognition that my partner and I are not simply passive instruments to each other. Such things are learned in the fabric of a whole relation of converse and cooperation; yet of course the more time taken the longer a kind of risk endures. There is more to expose, and a sustaining of the will to let oneself be formed by the perceptions of another. Properly understood, sexual faithfulness is not an avoidance of risk, but the creation of a context in which grace can abound because there is a commitment not to run away from the perceptions of another."

I'd like to grab a part of Rogers' argument at this point. What Williams is suggesting is that human sexuality is akin to a spiritual discipline. More, Rogers suggests that human sexuality is a form of monasticism, of living in close community, exposing our bodies and personhood to the perceptions of others and allowing those perceptions to affect and shape us. In both monasticism and marriage there is a "mutual kenosis," a shared self-emptying. Here is Rogers on this point:

 "Marriage, like monasticism, allows eros and the body to mean more...[M]arriage shares with celibacy the end of sanctifying the whole person through the body, of permitting the body something more to be about, something further to mean, something better to desire, until finally it gets taken up into the life in which God loves God. In this process of desiring ever more, one incidentally or intentionally gives up--lets go of, gets rid of--the petty things that one used to want, and in that way the life of ever-greater desire is one of asceticism, and asceticism in which self-control serves self-abandonment. In this way too the end of marriage and monasticism is one."

This might seem to be an odd claim, that sexuality and celibacy are two sides of the same coin. That eros can be a form of asceticism. But if you've ever been married and have tried to "work out" life in the sexual sphere I'm sure you can understand. Rogers' description of mutual kenosis is very apt. More from Rogers describing the relationship between eros and agape:

 Both these forms of community--monasticism and marriage--require time to complete the transformation of human beings by the perceptions of an other. Both the married and the monastic need somebody who loves them to call them on their faults from whom they cannot easily escape. The transformation is not only, or even primarily, the experience of falling in love (eros), but that is the intensity and the clue to the importance of something else: the experience of living with someone, the neighbor, who won't leave one alone (agape).

This view of human sexuality fits very comfortably with scripture. As Paul writes in 1 Corinthians: "The husband should fulfill his marital duty to his wife, and likewise the wife to her husband. The wife's body does not belong to her alone but also to her husband. In the same way, the husband's body does not belong to him alone but also to his wife."

Our bodies are not our own. They are "community property." I share my body with my wife. And it doesn't end there. My body belongs to the community of faith. I don't wholly control my own time, money, efforts, or talent. The community has a claim on me. Ultimately, because these loves--for my wife and for the world--are simply reflections of my love for God. As Paul writes: "You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your body."

Monks are "not their own." And neither are the married. As Rogers notes, monks learn this lesson directly: By giving up eros for the love of God (agape). The married discover this more indirectly: Eros demands that I make my body available to the other (agape). But the lesson is the same: You are not your own.

Now all this talk about discipline, kenosis, monasticism and asceticism might sound kind of dreary. But this is where the language of grace comes in. As both Rogers and Williams note, marriage doesn't make any sense, theologically, without the pre-existent language of grace. Love, sex, marriage, friendship. These only mean what they mean because of God's grace. So what is grace? Williams offers this vision:

 Grace, for the Christian believer, is a transformation that depends in large part on knowing yourself to be seen in a certain way: as significant, as wanted.

The whole story of creation, incarnation, and our incorporation into the fellowship of Christ's body tells us that God desires us, as if we were God, as if we were that unconditional response to God's giving that God's self makes in the life of the Trinity. We are created so that we may be caught up in this, so that we may grow into the wholehearted love of God by learning that God loves us as God loves God.

The life of the Christian community has as its rationale--if not invariably its practical reality--the task of teaching us to so order our relations that human beings may see themselves as desired, as the occasion of joy.

I mentioned in Part 1 that I found Rogers' book a wonderful read in relation to my own marriage. A part of that was Rogers reminding me of Williams' account of grace, of finding myself in my marriage to be "an occasion of joy." True, it's not always like that, but if you've ever experienced grace you know the feeling. Just think of the last time--whether with friends or family--where you, in your personhood, were greeted and experienced as an occasion of joy. That feeling is grace. And the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus is aimed at teaching us this: That is how God feels about you. You are God's occasion of joy.

As physical creatures, we tend to experience this grace in the presence of others. And that is what I was talking about above. These human experiences--love, laughter, sex, friendship--only make sense in light of God's grace. God's grace animates these experiences, we know ourselves to be loved by God through these experiences.

And this is where the body's grace comes in. Can my physical body be experienced as "an occasion of joy" by another? And for myself? Again, recall how risky sex can be. Can grace be experienced here, in the physical sphere, where I am maximally exposed--physically, emotionally, spiritually?

Yes it can, but again, this grace must participate in the life of the Trinity. There must be mutuality and communion. And when this mutual kenosis is present, Williams writes, we find in sexuality an experience of grace, the body's grace:

" For my body to be the cause of joy, the end of homecoming, for me, it must be there for someone else, must be perceived, accepted, nurtured. And that means being given over to the creation of joy in that other, because only as directed to the enjoyment, the happiness, of the other does it become unreservedly lovable. To desire my joy is to desire the joy of the one I desire: my search for enjoyment through the bodily presence of another is a longing to be enjoyed in my body.

In this, sex might be the quintessential form of spirituality: Eros (desire) can only be experienced by agape (self-sacrifice). True love is only experienced when my joy is achieved by surrendering to your joy. In this, the sexual union models the life of the Trinity. The love of the Son is given to the Father and the Father gives it back to the Son through the Spirit. Each empties into the other, an eternal flow of self-emptying love--back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. The tides of kenosis and love. Gifts given and received--back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. Father, Son and Spirit finding each other to be occasions of joy.

This, then, is a sketch of Williams' essay The Body's Grace. And what it provides us with is a vision of how sexual love reflects the Imago Dei. Sex of this nature is holy, a participation in the Triune life of God. In his book, Rogers takes this Trinitarian vision of human sexuality and then folds it into a theological account of marriage.

We might say that a part of what Rogers is doing is asking a question similar to the one Williams asked. Where Williams asks, "Why does sex matter?" Rogers is asking "Why does marriage matter?"

Rogers' answer also follows the path of grace. Marriage is an experience of grace, of being found to be an occasion of joy. And as with sex, this marital grace can only make sense if a pre-existing language of grace precedes it. God's marriage to his people is what makes sense of human marriage.

So how does the bible describe the grace found in "God's marriage"?

Rogers argues that it is fundamentally described as a matter of election. God's grace is experienced in God's own choosing of a people. God chooses Israel to be his bride. And in this choice Israel is found to be an occasion of joy. Israel experiences God's grace.

In short, what makes marriage a reflection of God's nature is that it models God's election:  I choose you.

And again, this is where my own biography wells up. Jana and I have a little exchange we share when we are experiencing grace in our marriage. I say, "Thanks for saying 'yes.'" And she responds, "Thanks for asking." We experience grace because it is an occasion of joy to be chosen. To be selected. And this grace is not just for the married. We experience the grace of God's election whenever we are chosen to be an occasion for joy, by friends and family. As Williams describes, this is grace because we feel desiredand wanted.

Marriage, then, reflects the nature of God in that it participates in (incarnates) God's election and marriage to Israel. This is the grace of marriage: I choose you.

If this is so we can see why procreation isn't what makes marriage a marriage, theologically speaking. No doubt reproduction is a part of human sex. But marriage? Marriage is about God's election of Israel. As Rogers notes, it would be sort of odd to model Christian marriage after Adam and Eve. Do we really want marriage modeled after those two? Ummmm. No.

So Adam and Eve aren't the model for marriage. No, God and Israel are the model for Christian marriage.

And that marriage is one of election and covenant faithfulness. And, interestingly, the best biblical example of this faithfulness, read aloud in countless marriage services, is Ruth's pledge to Naomi:

 Don't urge me to leave you or to turn back from you. Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God. Where you die I will die, and there I will be buried. May the LORD deal with me, be it ever so severely, if anything but death separates you and me.

The fact that we use this pledge for marital covenants (!) highlights that this is what marriage is about. God's election and covenant faithfulness--incarnated in Ruth's pledge to Naomi--is what makes a marriage a marriage.

More, as noted in my last post, if we recover our identity as Gentiles (as Rogers insists) we soon realize that we are not a part of this marriage. God married Israel, not us. Yahweh is not our God. Yahweh is Israel's God. So, as Paul helps us see, we have to be adopted into this family. And "in Christ" we are adopted. We are "grafted in."

This identity as "adopted children" puts further strain on attempts to place reproduction at the center of Christian marriage. We are not God's "children of the flesh." We are not circumcised. We've been adopted through baptism. And what this again highlights is God's election. His choosing us. What makes us family isn't DNA but the free choice of God. Also known as grace. And this is how family is understood in the church: We are not biological relatives, but we are all "family" through God's choosing us in Christ.

And according to Rogers this understanding goes a long way in explaining why "non-standard" families can be full reflections of the Imago Dei: Sterile couples, step-families, adopted children, gay marriages, etc. These are all marriages and families that reflect the life of God. They are not incomplete or failures. They fully reflect the Imago Dei. Why? Because they model God's marriage to Israel, God's election: 

I choose you.

And that is an occasion of joy.

***

Be sure to check out “Same Sex Marriage In the Image of God?”  over at Richard's place and the rest of our Sexuality & The Church series here. 

Richard’s blog, Experimental Theology, consistently falls into my personal Top 5 list and I can’t recommend it enough. Richard is a psychologist, and so his reflections on theology, the Bible, church, community, and spirituality always include some new angle I never considered before. (For example, recently he’s been discussing “the impossibility of Calvinistic Christian psychotherapy!”) I  had the privilege of meeting Richard and his awesome wife Janna when I visited Abilene Christian University a few years ago. Richard is Professor and Department Chair of Psychology there. He and Jana have two sons, Brenden and Aidan. Richard's area of interest--be it research, writing, or blogging--is on the interface of Christian theology and psychology, with a particular focus on how existential issues affect Christian belief and practice. Richard's published research covers topics as diverse as the psychology of profanity to why Christian bookstore art is so bad. His books include Unclean: Meditations on Purity, Hospitality, and Mortality and The Authenticity of Faith: The Varieties and Illusions of Religious Experience. 

Go subscribe to Richard’s blog now. You will thank me later. 

Sexuality and the Christian Body, Part 1: “Contrary to Nature” (by Richard Beck)

Within about four minutes of announcing our yearlong series on Sexuality & the Church, I realized I was in over my head. You just don’t realize how many books there are to read, angles to take, and people to interview until you’ve gone and committed to yourself to exploring a multi-faceted, hot-button issue like this one. 

So I emailed Richard Beck (and some others writers I respect) and asked for help. Richard’s blog, Experimental Theology, consistently falls into my personal Top 5 list and I can’t recommend it enough. Richard is a psychologist, and so his reflections on theology, the Bible, church, community, and spirituality always include some new angle I never considered before. (For example, recently he’s been discussing “the impossibility of Calvinistic Christian psychotherapy!”) I  had the privilege of meeting Richard and his awesome wife Janna when I visited Abilene Christian University a few years ago. Richard is Professor and Department Chair of Psychology there. He and Jana have two sons, Brenden and Aidan. Richard's area of interest--be it research, writing, or blogging--is on the interface of Christian theology and psychology, with a particular focus on how existential issues affect Christian belief and practice. Richard's published research covers topics as diverse as the psychology of profanity to why Christian bookstore art is so bad. His books include Unclean: Meditations on Purity, Hospitality, and Mortality and The Authenticity of Faith: The Varieties and Illusions of Religious Experience. 

Last year, Richard posted a review and some reflections on Sexuality and the Christian Body by Eugene Rogers—a book that has been recommended to me for the series, but which I just haven’t found the time to read. (Also, it costs 40 bucks.) Richard did such a good job discussing it on his blog, I asked if I could repost Part 1 of his reflections here. (You can read Part 2 over at Experimental Theology.) I hope you learn as much as I did. 

Sexuality and the Christian Body, Part 1: “Contrary to Nature”

by Richard Beck 

Recently, I finished Eugene Rogers' book Sexuality and the Christian Body. I thought I'd devote a few posts to some of the main ideas in the book for any who are interested.

The book is a theological argument advocating for the inclusion of same-sex marriages into the Christian communion. Consequently, I don't expect everyone to agree with Rogers' argument. Regardless, what I found encouraging in Sexuality and the Christian Body was a vision of marriage that inspired me in my own marriage to Jana. More, Rogers offers a view of marriage that also lifts up singleness and celibacy. In short, regardless as to what you think about Rogers' views on same-sex marriage, his theological treatment of marriage is, from a theological perspective, very inspiring. Or at least I found it so.

A key notion in Rogers' book is that the vast majority of Christians need to recover their identity as Gentiles. This is important for a few different reasons. First, this recovery highlights the fact that we are not "by nature" children of God. We've been chosen and adopted. In the language of Paul we've been "grafted into" the tree of Israel. Second, this action of God, grafting in the Gentiles, highlights how the grace and election of God determines the people of God. We are not God's children because of nature. We are God's children because of election. This places election at the center of Christian notions of marriage (and celibacy) rather than a Darwinian focus on procreation. Marriage is grace, not biology. Finally, a recovery of our identity as Gentiles helps us understand why God's actions toward the Gentiles was such a shock and offense to the Jews (both Christian and non-Christian). Importantly, this shock was very much focused on issues of holiness and morality.

Early in the book Rogers has us consider what he calls "the standard argument." The argument is standard because it has been used throughout history, at various times and places, to argue for the moral inferiority of a marginalized class of people. Gender and race have been common targets. And a common example of this moral inferiority is evidence of sexual licentiousness. Thus, in the Middle East today we see the standard argument applied to women. Women are sexually promiscuous and, thus, require a variety of social restraints to keep them in check. This is also why women are blamed for adultery. The woman's lust for the married man causes him to falter. A woman is a Jezebel, a temptress.

The standard argument was also applied to blacks in the American South during slavery and segregation. In particular, the black male had a voracious sexual appetite for white women. And blacks generally were considered to be more promiscuous than whites.

In both cases we see how immorality generally, and sexual licentiousness in particular, get attributed to natural kinds (e.g., race, gender). In the Old and New Testaments this same reasoning was applied to the Gentiles. As a natural kind the Gentiles were considered to be naturally prone to immorality and sexual deviance. Paul gives us the standard Jewish view of the morality of Gentiles in Romans 1:

Therefore God gave them over in the sinful desires of their hearts to sexual impurity for the degrading of their bodies with one another. They exchanged the truth of God for a lie, and worshiped and served created things rather than the Creator—who is forever praised. Amen.

Because of this, God gave them over to shameful lusts. Even their women exchanged natural relations for unnatural ones. In the same way the men also abandoned natural relations with women and were inflamed with lust for one another. Men committed indecent acts with other men, and received in themselves the due penalty for their perversion.

Furthermore, since they did not think it worthwhile to retain the knowledge of God, he gave them over to a depraved mind, to do what ought not to be done. They have become filled with every kind of wickedness, evil, greed and depravity. They are full of envy, murder, strife, deceit and malice. They are gossips, slanderers, God-haters, insolent, arrogant and boastful; they invent ways of doing evil; they disobey their parents; they are senseless, faithless, heartless, ruthless. Although they know God's righteous decree that those who do such things deserve death, they not only continue to do these very things but also approve of those who practice them.

The important thing to note in this passage is that this is a description of the Gentiles as a natural kind. They are naturally depraved and deviant. Consequently, they engage in acts that are "contrary to nature." In all this we see another example of the standard argument, an argument that has been applied to all sorts of despised groups. Women. Blacks. Jews. And homosexuals in our time. What is important to note in all this is that it's not just that Gentiles do unnatural things. It is, rather, that they are morally inferior by nature.

This understanding helps us recover the moral shock of God's excessive grace in Galatians 3.28:

There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.

We tend to read this passage as a condemnation of slavery and as a call for egalitarian gender relations. No doubt that is a part of the story. But what Rogers argues is that what we are seeing in Gal. 3.28 is a fusion of natural kinds. More, we are seeing a fusion of the morally inferior with the morally superior. In the 1st Century slaves, women and Gentiles were all considered to be morally inferior to the highest natural kind: The male Jew. For example, each group was characterized by the sexual perversions we've seen Paul describe in Romans 1.

So what we are witnessing in Gal. 3:28 is something really quite shocking. Galatians 3:28 isn't about slavery or gender relations. It's about morality and holiness. More, it's about God's fusion in Jesus Christ of natural kinds, kinds that were believed to represent either holiness or depravity.

And the shock of God's actions goes even deeper. Later in Romans the phrase para phusin ("contrary to nature") reemerges. Only this time it is applied not to homosexuality but to God! In Romans 11.24 Paul describes the action of God in grafting in the Gentiles to the tree of Israel (the vision of Galatians 3.28):

 After all, if you were cut out of an olive tree that is wild by nature, and contrary to nature were grafted into a cultivated olive tree, how much more readily will these, the natural branches, be grafted into their own olive tree!

Does Paul know what he's doing here? Is he intentionally pulling para phusin from Romans 1 to make a parallel to God's grace in Jesus Christ? The Gentiles behave "unnaturally" and God, in his grace, does something just as "unnatural," he overrides the category of natural moral kinds to create one body in Christ. Surely the readers of Romans would have heard the overtones between Romans 1 and Romans 11, that their biases about what is "natural" or "unnatural" have been unnaturally reconfigured in the Kingdom of God.

How does Paul's argument apply to the case of modern day homosexuality? Rogers is clear that Paul is not offering his arguments in Romans to legitimize same-sex unions in the church. But what he does argue for is that Paul's arguments in Romans 1, Romans 11 and Galatians 3 are broadly isomorphic with the arguments offered to exclude same-sex unions from the church. That the arguments being made by the Jews to exclude the Gentiles are the same arguments being used to exclude same-sex couples from the life of the church.

In light of this, what we see in Paul is how the grace of God undermines the standard argument, an argument that there are kinds of people who are, by nature, morally inferior. And that these morally inferior natures cannot be "grafted into" in the church.

This is by no means the end of the discussion, but it does suggest that God does some very strange things when it comes to "nature." In fact, God himself often acts "contrary to nature" to erase our judgments about what is or is not natural or unnatural. This suggests that in the same-sex union debates we may have to rethink "nature" in light of God's election. God has chosen the Gentiles, by nature sexually deviant in the eyes of the Jews, and has grafted them into the tree of Israel. God overrides the standard argument in the minds of the Jews and, in doing so, also acts "contrary to nature." Such actions on the part of God should give us moderns pause when we reason about "nature" in the same-sex attraction debates.

How can you be certain of what is natural or unnatural worshiping a God who acts para phusin?

***

Leave a comment with your thoughts if you like, and then be sure to jump over to Richard’s blog for Part 2: “Grace and Election.”

You might also like Richard’s previous guest post, “A Non-Zero-Sum Conversation Between the Traditional Church and the Gay Community”

Check out the rest of our Sexuality & The Church series here.