[Note: This is a blog post, but do not be surprised to see this in print at some point in the future.] No, this will not be graphic. But I got your attention, didn't I? I had a conversion experience to Jesus at 18, but truthfully, my life up until 21 (my baptism) was pretty sketchy. I drank too much, swore like a sailor, [So, not everything has changed!--ed.] and generally wouldn't have been convicted by the Romans, the Herodians, or anyone else for being a Christian.
The only thing I knew about sex in those teen years was that I wanted to have it. Some dudes in the neighborhood had actually schemed to have me lose my virginity when I was 15. She was willing, but I got scared. Then she got mad, which struck me as weird. Then again, there's your "toxic masculinity" right there: We can't admit that we're scared, and young, and this is probably wrong. And think of how broken this is. That young woman--God bless her--had learned the lesson that if you didn't have sex with boys, you were a "prude". If they didn't want to have sex with you, they were probably gay, and you are ugly. I avoided all that, that time. Other degradations I did not avoid, but intercourse, I avoided.
I got to college. I met this one neighbor in the dorms. We'll call her "E." She was sweet, beautiful, and kind. Blonde. I have always been sort of funny, so I can't say I don't know how to flirt. Maybe not much success, overall, but I can be charming! E invited me to her dorm room. I'm not exactly sure what would have happened, but this is college, man. If she presses the point, I'm de-flowered, man. I'm glad I didn't go, but then, I didn't understand the Christian teaching. I absolutely would have had sex that night. I guess I got scared again. I made some excuse, I think. Did I know it would have been wrong? Maybe. Other sins I committed, I definitely understood.
I saw E a bunch of times after that. Sometimes, I've regretted not going to her place. That's really dumb, upon reflection, but when you're in a wheelchair, and dating is weird, and you don't know what these AB (let the reader understand) girls are thinking, you think this might be your only shot, if you know what I mean. There is something powerful and intoxicating about being desirable. Of course, we know it's pretty great to sexually desire someone else, but reciprocation makes the world go round.
Anyway, it's really easy to think, "No one will ever want me, because I'm a cripple." We've talked about this before. It's not true, but it seems true a lot of the time. And I know now that being desired is not the end-all, be-all of being human. In fact, the Church teaches us that celibacy is superior to marriage. We're scared of this, because we're binary people, and we mistakenly think that if you say celibacy is better, you hate sex. Or that you're judging people who don't agree. And, if you hadn't noticed, we've had a disturbing number of clergy--who are absolutely supposed to know and live better than the rest of us--ruin many lives, and in some sense tarnish the splendor of the Church, with their predations. Nevertheless, the truth remains the truth. Sex is for marriage, and marriage is not the highest vocation.
I think it fair to say that Jesus has a ton of mercy for sexual sinners. One reason why is that the sexual act within a marriage is a picture of Christ and the Church. He calls Himself the Bridegroom, and we the baptized are the Bride. This is of course shocking, but that's precisely the point. Everything that is sin in the world is a twisting of something good. In the worst evils, we may have to look pretty hard, but I think we know this. Evil has no existence in itself.
Illicit sex or sex acts are usually sins of weakness, and though Our Lord never sinned, He is able to sympathize with our weakness. Part of his whole reason for coming to us was to set us free from our sins, and the tendency toward them. He walked in this world; he ate with sinners of all kinds. It's sort of odd that people feel judged by the Church, and by Christians, because we should understand sin better than anyone. On the other hand, a lot of people feel judged by others, and what they are actually experiencing are the pangs of conscience. "Only God can judge me!" That's true. What's awfully presumptuous is to assume you know that is going to go well for you.
In short, "it is not good for the man to be alone" has many dimensions. One of our cultural dimensions is the belief that the sexually active are powerful, that they are more human than the sexually inactive, no matter the reasons. It might just be easier to contemplate the parts of culture that don't give this message. We have to swat away the lies surrounding this. And if we have a disability--even quite a severe one--we have to believe that even a broken body is a good body, as my friend Amanda Beck would say. It is meant to be a sexual body, even if there is a proper time and place for that expression. Even if we choose not to use this capacity for any number of reasons, that's a choice we make. No mere person has the right to tell you or me that we are less than someone else, because we look different, or move differently, or even experience emotions differently than others.
Some activists are pretty crude on this point, but I'll agree: Sex is good! Sex is pleasurable. It is interesting to contemplate: I am a crippled person, a sexual being, in the world God made, redeemed by His Son Jesus Christ, and sanctified by the Holy Spirit. Commonality, yet also difference. Difference that we have yet to understand, or fully account for.
The only thing I knew about sex in those teen years was that I wanted to have it. Some dudes in the neighborhood had actually schemed to have me lose my virginity when I was 15. She was willing, but I got scared. Then she got mad, which struck me as weird. Then again, there's your "toxic masculinity" right there: We can't admit that we're scared, and young, and this is probably wrong. And think of how broken this is. That young woman--God bless her--had learned the lesson that if you didn't have sex with boys, you were a "prude". If they didn't want to have sex with you, they were probably gay, and you are ugly. I avoided all that, that time. Other degradations I did not avoid, but intercourse, I avoided.
I got to college. I met this one neighbor in the dorms. We'll call her "E." She was sweet, beautiful, and kind. Blonde. I have always been sort of funny, so I can't say I don't know how to flirt. Maybe not much success, overall, but I can be charming! E invited me to her dorm room. I'm not exactly sure what would have happened, but this is college, man. If she presses the point, I'm de-flowered, man. I'm glad I didn't go, but then, I didn't understand the Christian teaching. I absolutely would have had sex that night. I guess I got scared again. I made some excuse, I think. Did I know it would have been wrong? Maybe. Other sins I committed, I definitely understood.
I saw E a bunch of times after that. Sometimes, I've regretted not going to her place. That's really dumb, upon reflection, but when you're in a wheelchair, and dating is weird, and you don't know what these AB (let the reader understand) girls are thinking, you think this might be your only shot, if you know what I mean. There is something powerful and intoxicating about being desirable. Of course, we know it's pretty great to sexually desire someone else, but reciprocation makes the world go round.
Anyway, it's really easy to think, "No one will ever want me, because I'm a cripple." We've talked about this before. It's not true, but it seems true a lot of the time. And I know now that being desired is not the end-all, be-all of being human. In fact, the Church teaches us that celibacy is superior to marriage. We're scared of this, because we're binary people, and we mistakenly think that if you say celibacy is better, you hate sex. Or that you're judging people who don't agree. And, if you hadn't noticed, we've had a disturbing number of clergy--who are absolutely supposed to know and live better than the rest of us--ruin many lives, and in some sense tarnish the splendor of the Church, with their predations. Nevertheless, the truth remains the truth. Sex is for marriage, and marriage is not the highest vocation.
I think it fair to say that Jesus has a ton of mercy for sexual sinners. One reason why is that the sexual act within a marriage is a picture of Christ and the Church. He calls Himself the Bridegroom, and we the baptized are the Bride. This is of course shocking, but that's precisely the point. Everything that is sin in the world is a twisting of something good. In the worst evils, we may have to look pretty hard, but I think we know this. Evil has no existence in itself.
Illicit sex or sex acts are usually sins of weakness, and though Our Lord never sinned, He is able to sympathize with our weakness. Part of his whole reason for coming to us was to set us free from our sins, and the tendency toward them. He walked in this world; he ate with sinners of all kinds. It's sort of odd that people feel judged by the Church, and by Christians, because we should understand sin better than anyone. On the other hand, a lot of people feel judged by others, and what they are actually experiencing are the pangs of conscience. "Only God can judge me!" That's true. What's awfully presumptuous is to assume you know that is going to go well for you.
In short, "it is not good for the man to be alone" has many dimensions. One of our cultural dimensions is the belief that the sexually active are powerful, that they are more human than the sexually inactive, no matter the reasons. It might just be easier to contemplate the parts of culture that don't give this message. We have to swat away the lies surrounding this. And if we have a disability--even quite a severe one--we have to believe that even a broken body is a good body, as my friend Amanda Beck would say. It is meant to be a sexual body, even if there is a proper time and place for that expression. Even if we choose not to use this capacity for any number of reasons, that's a choice we make. No mere person has the right to tell you or me that we are less than someone else, because we look different, or move differently, or even experience emotions differently than others.
Some activists are pretty crude on this point, but I'll agree: Sex is good! Sex is pleasurable. It is interesting to contemplate: I am a crippled person, a sexual being, in the world God made, redeemed by His Son Jesus Christ, and sanctified by the Holy Spirit. Commonality, yet also difference. Difference that we have yet to understand, or fully account for.
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