Real Sex: the Naked Truth About Chastity, Lauren Winner’s newest book, is wonderful. It’s edgy and insightful, fresh and biblical. A convert to Christianity, Winner is coming to terms with the Christian story of sexuality, explaining her journey toward chastity. A few selections today.
Winner scours through studies and anecdotes trying to discover why some teens find the courage to hold off on sexual intercourse:
“One might hope that the strongest predictor of teenage virginity would be church involvement–but it’s not. A recent study of teenage girls shows that the strongest predictor is actually participation in team sports. The girl who plays lacrosse or soccer is more likely to remain chaste than the girl who attends church and youth group.”
Why?
“At first blush, team sports and sexual abstinence seem to have nothing to do with each other. But in fact, the relationship makes sense: through soccer and tennis and field hockey, those girls are learning how to inhabit their bodies in good, robustly physical ways. They are seeing their bodies change and excel and face challenges and, sometimes, fail them. Their sports teams are communities that are teaching them how to live–not as sex objects, but as bodies that are graceful and disciplined and strong. They are learning, through those tennis matches and lacrosse games, that their bodies should be celebrated, because their bodies do great things. This doesn’t mean, of course, that if only the church sponsored more softball leagues, everyone would stay on the chaste straight and narrow. But it does mean that the church ought to cultivate ways of teaching Christians to live in their bodies well–so that unmarried folks can still be bodily people, even though they’re not having sex, and so that married people can give themselves to sex freely.”
It’s so easy for the church to slip into a bit of Gnosticism–sending signals that the body is evil, or at least mostly problematic. These signals just don’t fit the Christian story: of bodies being created by God, of Jesus coming in a real body, and of bodies being raised and glorified to live forever.
About communal sex:
“But the Bible tells us to intrude–or rather, the Bible tells us that talking to one another about what is really going on in our lives is in fact not an intrusion at all, because what’s going on in my life is already your concern; by dint of the baptism that made me your sister, my joys are your joys and my crises are your crises. We are called to speak to one another lovingly, to be sure, and with edifying, rather than gossipy or hurtful, goals. But we are called nonetheless to transform seemingly private matters into communal matters.”
About how we dress:
“There is, it seems to me, a certain power in modest dressing, an assertion that though my body is beautiful, I am more than a sex object designed for your passing entertainment. But the power of dressing is also the power of narrative. For our clothes tell stories, and it would be naive and irresponsbile to pretend otherwise. Clothes tell stories about sex and chastity, to be sure, but they also narrate a stance toward our environments; our dress suggests a set of priorities. That is why we enjoy clothing so much, of course–because we reinvent ourselves and our narratives when we try out a new look. So the question for Christians is not an absolute one about skirt length, but rather something about communication. What stories do we want to tell ourselves and others through our choices of clothing?”
About sex in marriage:
“One hopes that satisfying sex characterizes the majority of American marriages. But the tips and steps and easy how-tos for married folk seem to misdiagnose the problem. The problem is not only that new moms are exhausted and collapse into bed at night wanting only sleep. The problem is also that we think we need to aspire to Hollywood sex; we think husbands and wives, when they’re doing it right, will approximate the unbridled passion of Halle Berry and Billy Bob Thornton in Monster’s Ball. We’ve defined sex as something unsustainable–bodice-ripping, stupefying, and nightly. . . . Good sex, to be sure, is characterized by physical pleasure. It is also conditioned by moral context. And, as I suggested in the last chapter, it is inextricable from domestic routine. Moms and dads do need to be intentional about making time for sex, but Christians can perhaps remind the broader culture that good sex, by definition, is part and parcel of, not antagonistic to, ordinary marriages and domestic life.”
Winner discusses four lies that our culture tells about sex: it can be wholly separated from procreation; you shouldn’t marry for sex; how you dress doesn’t matter; and good sex can’t happen in the humdrum routine of marriage. Then she covers three lies that the church sometimes tells about sex: that premarital sex is guaranteed to make you feel lousy, that women don’t really want to have sex anyway; and that bodies (and sex) are gross, dirty, or just plain unimportant.