When Sexual Purity Becomes an Idol

If you grew up in youth group in my generation, you were likely exposed to the Christian sub-culture movement "True Love Waits". It was a powerful message than ran counter to the sexual ethic of the "rest of society".

True Love Waits had a simple premise: pledge to wait until you are married to have sex. But around this simple premise grew a whole industry as authors and musicians and Christian-trinket-makers got on board with the movement. If you signed a pledge card, there were rings you could wear to show your commitment. Artists wrote songs about waiting. (One of my favorites was Maybe Tomorrow by Nouveaux. I think Rebecca St. James had a whole album about it, but I never really got into her music.) And then there were the endless books and stories of the beautiful love stories that resulted from couples who waited on God and prayed for their spouses and were blessed with beautiful marriages.

It was never explicitly promised - that you would have a great sex life and a great marriage if you just followed the sex rules, but all of the motivation seemed to be oriented around that premise.

Fast forward. I think it's been 23 years since I signed my first purity pledge card. I'm not married. That "promise" hasn't materialized for me. Even more than that, it hasn't been a perfect cake walk of that naive exuberance I had when I was 12. I've stayed "pure" but I've endured my fair share of disappointments and heartaches in the relationship realm. I am not the unsullied bright-eyed teenager who asked her parents for a purity ring, even if I've avoided all the things that I was supposed to avoid.

Sex sermons today have come a long way from what they were when I was in youth group. I'm incredibly appreciative for how my pastors in particular handle the topic in a way that balances grace and truth.

It becomes a hard topic to listen to, though, because I feel myself just saying "yeah, yeah, I know all this... but I still got hurt. This may be wise, but it doesn't keep us safe."

A few things that I must preach to myself as I find myself going to that destructive place in my mind:

1. If our "purity" is motivated by a desire to get something in particular, we are not walking in obedience, but are instead attempting to put God in our debt through obedience. This is the equivalent of making purity an idol. In Greek society, people would sacrifice to Athena if they wanted wisdom or to win a war, or to Artemis if they wanted good favor with hunting, or to other gods to curry their favor. Their sacrifices were less about honoring the gods they sacrificed to, and more about seeking after what those gods could provide. We do the same thing when our obedience is motivated by a desire to get anything. And when we find ourselves frustrated that things haven't panned out a certain way because of what we've done, this can be a good indication that we are motivated by the wrong thing. (Very important side note: I would argue this is the case for a lot of our good behavior, and there is so, so much grace for this.)
2. We can't avoid getting hurt. CS Lewis writes that "God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains: it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world." If we make the efforts to complete avoid all pain, we also shut off that important aspect of a growing, thriving relationship with God where those moments that bring us the most hurt are also moments that provide the most opportunity for growth. This is a hard truth to swallow, but I'm glad that there is not a set of rules I can follow to do everything perfect and avoid getting hurt, because this same set of rules would leave me a hollow version of who I am.
3. Finally... I looked back on those painful memories that I would have hoped to avoid. And in those memories, I am actually really glad for a commitment to sexual purity, because if any of those situations would have had a complicating physical factor, the degree of pain would have increased exponentially. I had been framing those memories in this way: I tried to do everything not to get hurt, and I still got hurt, despite following "the rules." But there's another way to frame them: how much additional hurt did I avoid by walking in obedience in that area?

Our pastor preached on sex this morning, and I found myself going to all those places. But above it all, I am so thankful that my salvation rests not on my ability to follow the rules, but because there was One who followed the rules, and the spirit of the rules, perfectly, and imputed his righteousness to me. I am so thankful that my hope rests not on trying to obey the right rules for the right reasons, but on one who accomplished it all for me.

Choosing Joy, Choosing Gratitude

When you are single, there is a constant unending stream of opportunities to feel bad about your "status in life."

See a couple in front of you holding hands? I have no one to hold hands with.
Wedding invite? No one will ever love me that way.
New baby being born? I will probably never have kids. I'm going to die without anyone to visit me in the old folks home.
Instagram / Facebook date nights and Man Crush Monday? Everyone else is totally in love and has the perfect life.

If you're paying attention, there is barely a moment that goes by that doesn't remind us that we are all alone in the world. :'(

Someone sent me a blog a few weeks ago, and as I started reading it, I was amazed at how well the blogger described singleness and the challenges of singleness. The circumstances of his singleness are very different than the circumstances of my singleness, but I found myself just eating up how well he described the frustration of it all.

Until I realized how depressing that is.

Every moment we are faced with an opportunity to be discouraged. Life does not have a shortage on disappointments and challenges. And we are "wronged" constantly. If you don't believe me, just go to a busy street and try to cross at a crosswalk.

(First World Problems)

If you want to be a victim and feel like the world has wronged you, you will always have some sort of "proof" to justify this position.

But isn't that kind of miserable?

A few weeks ago, I was getting ready for work in the gym and surrounded by mirrors at every angle. (Side note: why do gyms have mirrors everywhere AND terrible lighting?!?) I caught a glimpse of my less-than-skinny arms in the mirror and just cringed. "I hate my body" just slipped into my mind accompanied by a deep sigh of frustration.

And then I caught it.

Wait a minute.

I had just finished my workout where my trainer put me through the rigor of throwing things and lifting things and oh-so-many of the dreaded planks and squats and lunges. My body is strong, and injury free, and so I am in the process of getting stronger. I have two strong legs that can walk wherever my feet will take me. And run, too. Even a full 27.2 miles once (26.2 for the marathon and another mile for running around people)... And I decided I hated it because my arms didn't look how I wanted them to?!?

I made a different decision in that moment: gratitude.

I started a list of things that I was thankful for about my body. Things like what I referenced above: that I was free of injuries and that it allowed me to run and walk. Shallow things like the definition of my calf muscles and the fact that my ears don't stick out.

We are constantly talking to ourselves, and WE are in control of what we say. We are in control of what we say in the moment and we are in control over what habits we allow to build about what we tell ourselves.

Paul addresses this reality when he tells the Corinthians to "take captive every thought and make it obedient to Christ." (2 Cor. 10:5b NIV) He further expounds on this concept in the entire book of Philippians, which was written from prison, and yet is a book completely focused on joy. He sums the book up in Philippians 4:11, saying "Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content." The entire book of Philippians, in fact, gives us a blueprint for joy:

• Chapter 1: the gospel - living it and sharing it
• Chapter 2: community - dying to self
• Chapter 3: perspective - nothing matters but knowing Christ
• Chapter 4: decision - choosing where to focus our thoughts

As believers, we have more reason than anyone to choose joy and gratitude. We have an unwavering hope that the best is yet to come.

It sounds so easy, and yet it can be overwhelmingly hard. I definitely still struggle to choose joy and gratitude and find myself constantly going down a bad path. I hear myself telling myself terrible, discouraging messages on an all-too-frequent basis.

But. I will never end that cycle until I stop and choose joy.