on sex, or rather, not having sex

First, the warning: Serious adult themes ahead. Be aware.

Next, the disclaimer: This post is about a book I'm reading and how it's changing my approach to sex, or rather, (as per the title) my approach to not having sex. My opinions may not be your opinions and that's okay. I hope we can share a mutual love and respect anyways.

Now, for the good stuff.

Having grown up in the evangelical Christian world, and having spent the previous 4 years at Wheaton College, that bastion of evangelical higher learning, it should not be a surprise that I have decided to save sex for marriage. I have not, however, kissed dating goodbye. I have more or less "frenched dating hello," as the joke at Wheaton went.

Right, so that's part of my life. I chose the abstinence route and have found it empty and dissatisfying. There has to be a better, more consequential, less teenaged way to describe the commitment I am now choosing to make. I'm drawing a line in the sand right now, at age 22. I just don't know what to call either side of the line, and I feel like I need to identify it clearly as I step.

There's your background. Here's the book: Singled Out: Why Celibacy Must Be Reinvented in Today's Church. The co-authors are both unmarried women, one of whom was actually a brilliant professor of mine at Wheaton (for the record, I worked harder but learned more in her classes than any other!).

This book has helped me define either side of my sand line: Abstinence and Celibacy. I don't mean to say this is what the book says. I mean to say this is a personal conviction to which the book has helped me arrive.

It's like this. What is the chorus of abstinence-promoters? "Wait." Which I will do, of course. But that punch line is predicated on the idea that something is coming next. Namely, marriage. And what's a Christian girl to do when marriage comes later than she expected? Or never comes at all?

The answer then, as I see it, is celibacy. Ah, yes, the term previously reserved for ascetics and that most holy calling of marriage to Christ. ONLY NOT. Celibacy is the new abstinence, people! We're talking everybody from Lutherans and Agnostics and Non-denominationalists and Catholics to those rebels who simply counter our sex-crazed culture are jumping on the bandwagon.

Celibacy (and this idea does come from the book) is a personal commitment you make in the face of the general attitude of life around you. Abstinence is an outward statement, i.e. sign your pledge card, and celibacy is a more mature, internal conviction.

The thing about either short-term or long-term celibacy is that it doesn't really have a place in the evangelical church at the moment. That section of the Church universal is mostly family-oriented. Which is fine, except if you're a middle-age single Christian. Then it could be difficult to truly connect with a group of believers who are, by and large, married with kids. Which is why things need to change.

Personally, I want to be counter-cultural. I enjoy bucking the system (she writes, from her flat in the middle of Nigeria on a laptop running on battery because there's no electricity, ignoring her itchy palms that may or may not be a symptom of tapeworm). See? I like bucking the system. And the "system" I've grown up in uses sex as the primary advertising tool.

Wouldn't I just be the worst consumer in the world if a product's sex appeal did not appeal to me because I was not motivated by sex? What a way to mess with economics. What a way to buck the system!

Celibacy is going to change the face of sexual purity. It's a conscious choice I make, not an unfortunate set of circumstances that has befallen me because I am unmarried. Celibacy is more than just waiting for what comes next. It's not waiting at all. You see, the place I am (which one could call "singlehood") actually has something beneficial to teach me, and if I limit myself to just waiting, or am more focused on what comes next, I might just miss the lesson I have to learn right here, right now.

That lesson, it seems, is that as a single Christian woman, I have a divine, integral purpose in the Body of Christ. My sexuality is a God-given part of me, yes, but it does not make me who I am (i.e. single vs. married or virgin vs. sexually active). Whether or not I get married, whether or not I raise children, whether or not I have sex, I am purposed. As I make the transition from abstinence to celibacy, I may slip up: I may lose my focus on the place I am by looking ahead or by "just waiting". But I don't want to lose sight of that bigger calling, ever. As I stand on the Celibacy side of the line, I need the Body of Christ to support me while I support the Body of Christ.

Bottom line: Read the book. Draw a line in the sand. And if you cross over, let me know. You won't be standing alone.