A Short Essay on Sexual Theology     

Introduction

“In the beginning. . .” everything God made was “very good” and, as Christians, we recognise and assert that everything God makes is good.  We are in awe of the Psalmist’s “wonderfully and fearfully made” human being, divinely constructed and loved by God, and redeemed at a price through Christ, revealing the unique solidarity between himself and humankind.  It is odd therefore, that for a people confessing an all holy, unconditionally loving and wholly creative God who made us, there seems so little positive and celebratory sexual theology.  Rather, the body appears to be seen as carnal and ‘bad’, while the spirit is perceived as transcendent and ‘good.’ It is a duality view initially based on Paul’s writing, for example, “. . . the flesh lusts against the spirit and the spirit against the flesh” (Gal 5 : 17); and expounded by early Christian thinkers such as Augustine: ‘So my two wills, one old, the other new, one carnal, the other spiritual, were in conflict with one another. . .’

In recent decades, theologians and anthropologists have begun questioning traditional concepts of Christian understanding of sexuality, considering whether such negative regard for the human body and its functionalities has validity today.  The purpose of this essay is to look at some of the aspects of this and to consider a few key points raised by three theologians and their respective works: Rowan Williams, The Body’s Grace; James Nelson, Embodiment; and Elizabeth Moltmann-Wendel, I Am My Body.

In the light of Old Testament emphasis of the goodness of Creation and the Second Testament’s focus on God’s solidarity with humanity via the Incarnation, Christian theology concerning the human body and sexuality should be entirely positive.  Unfortunately, quite the opposite is true, with a large proportion of Christian theology regarding the body’s, physicalities, desires and functions as separate from – and consequently less significant than – the essential person.  The body seems to be only grudgingly perceived as redeemable by God’s grace, while the spirit is considered transcendent and therefore closer to God.  This ‘double standard’ reveals a warped theology in dire need of review, so it is appropriate to raise questions such as what is the positive significance of our physical bodies in Christian theology?  And how should the contemporary church incorporate the dynamics of Biblical embodiment in its teaching about Christian living? 

A theological focus on embodiment brings back into perspective Christianity’s distinctive characteristic of God’s taking on flesh and thus confirming and healing the body’s nature.  As Moltmann-Wendel  notes, ‘This was a scandal in the religions of the ancient world – and is an unresolved challenge in the present world.’  In taking embodiment as a central a theme of Christianity we move away from a Western Augustinian theology that begins with the Fall and its affects rather than Creation and God’s pleasure in his creation.  Embodiment recognises the destructive tendencies in human beings, viewing conflict and hostility as the inability to relate fully or understand the need for relationship between human beings or between humans and their environment; without negating the problem of sin, which is seen as something to be clearly identified and dealt with.  Moltmann-Wendel emphasises the need for a holistic theology in order to fully appreciate human embodied existence in the same way the incarnate God in Christ is appreciated.  Certainly the second person of the Trinity becoming flesh is a reflection of God’s significant regard for us in our embodiment and not something to be neglected.

As human beings we experience physicality within the time and space of a physical world, and it is in understanding our bodies’ limitations and possibilities that we come to know and understand the world.  Because of this, our view of other people, events and the world will be as clear or distorted as our perception of ourselves.  Nelson comments, ‘If in a false spiritualisation of my selfhood I deny my embodiedness, I will also tend to minimise the personal significance of activities which I carry on through my body [and] my relationships to other body-selves are diminished in their personal meanings.’  Entrenched ideas concerning things like security and dirtiness affect the way we regard our bodies and environment, thus bodily boundaries become important to us and we may become anxious when we perceive them to be crossed.  In short, our world-view corresponds to our perception of the body and our view of the body corresponds to our world-view in relation to its cultural, political and religious dictates. 

Nelson points out that, ‘views of the cosmic order and of the nature of society are expressed in beliefs and rituals concerning the human body, and this is especially reflected in practices and rituals pertaining to purity and order.’  The Levitical holiness codes illustrate this well.  As laws divinely-appointed for the Israelites for communal living and for expressing commitment to God’s covenant, not only is faithfulness to Yahweh required but also separation from idolatry and all associated practices.  Correlations between perceptions of God’s holiness and human physicality are constant, confirming in turn what is religiously acceptable and what is taboo.  The point being that what is religiously taboo is not compatible with holy living and results in disqualification from temple worship.  Any Israelite viewed as ‘polluted’, or ‘polluting’, is simply in the wrong, regardless of moral intention or personal responsibility, and is separated from the rest of the community for fear of further contamination; the separation being temporary (isolation) or permanent (exile or execution), depending on the severity of the disorder.

Recognition that our bodies mirror and symbolize our perceptions of the world, and vice versa, needs to be central to Christian sexual theology.  From here, we can more realistically consider contemporary issues ranging from sexual roles, gender identity and various sexual oppressions/abuses, to questions of liberation, holy living, sexual fidelity and appropriate boundaries.  The primary focus of Scripture, according to Williams, is our being desired by God, who longs for us to desire him; this is the fulfilment of what it means to be fully human and fully satisfied.  From this viewpoint, it becomes clearer why sexual imagery is used in the Bible without inhibition and with celebration and blessing in mind - the Song of Songs being a prominent example.  What remains unclear is why human sexual desire is then so rarely viewed as a matter of grace, if it is accepted at all beyond clarified or conditioned exegesis.  We are taught through subjective interpretation that, sexual desire must only arise in specific ways, in certain circumstances and only between certain people; with marketing and advertising providing further ‘guidelines’ regarding how we can only be sexually desirable if we look/dress/smell/weigh/spend money the right way!  Unsurprisingly, desire incorporates various vulnerabilities, possibilities and risks, since they involve exposure to another human being’s perception.  Williams recognises that for desire to work fully it must be experienced mutually by both people involved, not simply be directed from one person towards another.  He comments insightfully, ‘For my body to be the cause of joy, and the fulfilment of desire for me, it must be there for someone else, be perceived, accepted and nurtured. . . Only in the mutuality of creating joy and enjoyment in and for those involved does desire then become unreservedly loving.’

Meanings of sexual expression are conveyed by social consensus in much the same way language and cultural traits develop, so a sexual act may actually have a range of meanings, depending on the context.  For example, penetrative intercourse may be wholly pleasurable to both partners sharing the intimacy, expressing love and commitment, but in the context of rape or incest, the same act becomes dehumanisation, exploitation and violation.  Sexual meanings vary therefore from expressions of love to procreation, from romanticism to eroticism and fetishism, from personal identity to religious dimensions; personal responsibility towards self and others is similarly present.  Consequently, it is naive to assume sexual activity affects only the physical self and not the other faculties making up the essential being; emotions, mind and spirit all play their part, and may be built up or torn down.  This is why human sexuality matters, as Williams emphasises, ‘Distorted sexuality is the effort to bring my happiness back under my control and to refuse to let my body be recreated by another person’s perception. . . to withdraw my body from the enterprise of human beings making sense in collaboration, in community [and] from language, culture and politics.’  Moltmann-Wendel agrees, and confirms, ‘Disembodiment is lovelessness.  Insecurity, coldness, power and weariness are hidden behind abstraction.’

Only in taking time with each other, in mutual recognition and trust, can partners learn they are far more than passive instruments and that sexual joy is more than the basic physicalities of sexual intimacy.  This is what Williams regards as the body’s grace and it is here that sexual faithfulness becomes not avoidance of risk but openness to creativity, where it discovers its true potential.  He does note, however, regarding sexual fidelity, that it would be entirely detrimental ‘to legalise it in such a way that it stands quite apart from the ventures and dangers of growth and is simply a public bond, enforceable by religious sanctions.’      

Commitment and faithfulness remain central for understanding the full potential and grace of sexual union.  What damages a perception of its efficacy for relationships are socio-religious demands and assumptions that it can only be real if confined to a certain pattern, for example, the insistence of heterosexual marriage being the only ideal.  The irony of this is inescapable, as Williams points out, ‘an enormous number of sanctioned unions are a framework for violence and human destructiveness on a disturbing scale.’  Sexual union is not freed from moral danger or ambiguity merely by satisfying formalised socio-religious criteria.  Similarly, a view of the body as being separate from the essential person, thus something to be either subdued or mollified with immediate gratification, is a major cause of sexual oppression within which desire is bound up with fear and hostility.  However, while we need to acknowledge that sexual disorder is prevalent in a range of human dysfunctions, it should not be assumed to be the basis for all human pathologies.

Reflection on human sexuality further raises the question of why so much religious and social anxiety exists concerning same-sex relationships and where this anxiety originates.  Ironically, while mainstream churches hold that same-sex relations are a problem because of the language of creation and redemption; more liberal and inclusive churches would say that same-sex relations should not be a problem precisely because of such language.  Williams wonders whether the problem might be to do with the fact that same-sex relations necessitate thinking directly about bodily actions and sexuality in a way that heterosexual unions do not.  As the effervescent Quentin Crisp pointed out, ‘When heterosexuals think about homosexuals and what they do in bed, they can imagine themselves doing it - and they don’t like it!’    I would suggest this is simply a reflection of a heteronormativity so deeply ingrained and so surely anchored that consideration of anything outside of it must, by default, be viewed with contempt and suspicion.  Certainly it is fair to say that the church’s teaching and guidance on heterosexual activity is weak at best, throw homosexual activity into the mix and it is met with something between total confusion and apoplexy.

Comic and tragic aspects of sex and its general embarrassments necessitates (for some) having an ultimate goal for its justification.  For heterosexual partners the greater purpose behind which to hide, if so chosen, is procreation, enabling direct thought about sexual desire to be circumvented.  With same-sex relations there is only the confrontation of the reality of desire, pleasure and joy for their own sake, without any ‘greater purpose.’  Yet precisely this meaning - of something other than procreation - is used as a major motif for sexual metaphor in the Bible when referring to God’s relationship with humanity.  For example, in Hosea, God is portrayed as a tormented and humiliated lover concerning unfaithful Israel; sexual attraction is favoured over procreation in 1 Samuel 1:8, when Elkanah (Samuel’s father), says to his barren wife Hannah, “Why are you downhearted? Don't I mean more to you than ten sons?"  The Second Testament also refers to marital sex without use of procreation as its primary purpose.  Paul, for example, speaks of partners surrendering individual ownership of their bodies (1 Cor 7: 4); and points out that, “…in loving his wife a man loves himself” (Eph 5: 28-29), encouraging relational elements and creativity in the partnership. 
We frequently speak of God as love, but are afraid to speak of God as lover.  We sing the chorus ‘I am my beloved’s and he is mine, and his banner over me is love,’ from the passionate and highly erotic Song of Songs, yet fail to recognise God as lover.  As Sallie McFague astutely observes in her work, Models of God, ‘But a God who relates to all that is, not distantly and bloodlessly but intimately and passionately, is appropriately called lover.  God as lover is the moving power of love in the universe, the desire for unity with all the beloved, the passionate embrace. . . that draws us into each other’s arms.’ 

Irrefutably, there is a great deal found in the Bible to move us away from assuming reproductive sex is the norm for a Christian sexual ethic.  When portraying the costly relationship between God and humankind some biblical writers use sexuality to describe the intricacies, intimacies and difficulties encountered.  Therefore, those who refuse to consider the reality of same-sex love because it necessitates thinking about physical and bodily desire and joy for their own sake should be slower to claim that Scripture legitimises procreative heterosexuality as the only norm.  In the same vein, when some Christians opine that same-sex couples do not procreate, and this is why they cannot be of God, they are automatically dismissing those heterosexual couples who do not want or cannot have children, and more elderly men and women who choose to marry and are beyond child-bearing age.

According to Nelson, bodily meanings and sexual orientation, while rooted initially in genetics, entail ‘a social learning process through which we come to affirm certain sexual meanings in our interaction with significant others.’  He therefore suggests that a symbolic interactionist interpretation of sexuality complements Christian sexual theology, because it is compatible with major biblical perspectives on human nature.  In traditional biblical thought, human nature is not static but rather, it is dynamic, unfolding and developing.  Groups and institutions convey sexual meanings to us, including the family, church, legal system, medical world, and the advertising industry.  Communities exist through shared symbols, language, communication, and meanings, which are the essence of human sexuality and reflects our need for communion with one another.  As a community of faith expressing the grace of God, the church is relied upon to teach those sexual meanings consistent with Christian living.  At the same time, being a community seeking truth and transformation, the church must be open to fresh experiences of God’s presence and interaction in all areas of life, including sexuality.  In this sense, a symbolic interactionist approach is a useful tool for the church. 

At its heart, sexuality is the desire for and expression of communion, of the self with others and with God.  Accepting the wholly ‘otherness’ of God and therefore the human capacity to transcend the self to be in relationship with the divine, it is important to acknowledge and celebrate the sexual dimension in our relationship with God and recognise the unique and deep intimacy experienced between the (loved) human being and the (loving) God.  A failure to look beyond the dichotomy of finite humanity and infinite divinity, ‘results in the fading of an experiential awareness of divine immanence [and] when immanence fades, even God's transcendence becomes less real,’ comments Nelson.  In short, God becomes less realistic to us as does the possibility of an authentic relationship with Him.  Where sexual communion is authentic between partners, mutual giving and receiving exist without blurring individual uniqueness or creative differences.  Therefore, sexual communion reflects communion with God, indeed it is this depth of nurture that reveals the reality of the closeness of God in sexual communion and all other integral human experiences where growth, respect and wholeness become both the goal and the outcome.

Conclusion

Christian faith is an incarnational faith and God is uniquely made known through human presence and interaction, in particular when we express the grace and teaching of Jesus Christ, the Incarnate One.  Consequently, body language provides the building blocks of Christian theology and our sexuality is basic to our capacity to know and to experience God.  Sexuality is therefore too important to be relegated to a mere sub-heading within Christian ethics.  We need to continue asking what Christian theology has to say about the sexual body regarding sin, salvation and holy living, and pursue an understanding of what it means for us as embodied beings to participate wholly in the reality of God.  As Moltmann-Wendel concludes, ‘. . . our bodily life represents God’s life on this earth [and] the beginning and end of all God’s work is embodiment.’  In terms of conversation, the church manages to speak seriously and mindfully concerning the social impact of politics, economics, materialism, and most aspects of human societal living.  It is high time sexual theology was given the time and space it so crucially requires for an embodied people who love and serve an embodied God.

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Bibliography

Augustine, Confessions. [Trans Henry Chadwick],Oxford Paperbacks, Oxford, 2008.
Sallie McFague, Models of God: Theology for an Ecological, Nuclear Age.  Fortress Publications, Philadelphia, 1987. 
Elizabeth Moltmann-Wendel, I Am My Body.  From: Theological Aesthetics, A Reader [Ed. Gesa Elsbeth Thiessen], William B Eerdmans Publishing Co, Grand Rapids, 2004.
James Nelson, Embodiment: An Approach to Sexuality and Christian Theology.  Augsburg Publishing House, Minneapolis, 1979.  
Rowan Williams, The Body’s Grace (A paper produced for The Lesbian and Gay Christian Movement, 1989).  Archived on www.igreens.org.uk
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