Addison Road

Now that I’m back at work, I’m editing a book aimed at teens, encouraging them to remain sexually abstinent until marriage. I was afraid before I dug into the manuscript that it might be the same old “sex is evil and dirty, but the minute you marry will be beautiful and transcendent” message that Christian kids have been getting for decades (at least), but I’ve been pleasantly surprised. The argument for abstinence is presented as a decision of empowerment, as one decision among many that kids must make to reach the goals they have for their lives. (If you were not raised in the church, take it from me: this is a vast improvement.) My problem with the material is that sex — when had in a monogamous, sanctified marriage — is overly glorified as to be almost unrecognizable as just…good sex.

Editing the book has got me thinking about good sex and good Christianity. (I assure you, these subjects are not mutually exclusive.) On one hand, I’m a big, big fan of monogamy. And not just one-person-at-a-time monogamy, but one-person-period monogamy. I don’t mind divulging that I was a virgin (okay, just barely) when I got married nearly six years ago, and I have yet to regret the decision to wait until the deal was sealed. It’s hard for me to imagine negotiating the slings and arrows of marriage with the added baggage of a sordid sexual history, and I think abstinence is a wise, sane choice if one plans to commit to the long-haul with another human being. I also realize that communicating the far-reaching consequences of such a choice to inflamed, live-in-the-moment adolescents may at times require the use of extreme, ultimate language, if only to break through the hormone haze that surrounds them.

On the other hand, I don’t like the extreme, ultimate language which is often used to communicate to teens about sex. On one extreme, you’ve got the “sex is dirty” message, in which every accidental pregnancy and possible STD is gleefully examined, complete with hi-res close-ups of genital warts. On the other, you’ve got an over-romanticized ideal of sex, in which the act of intercourse with a life-long partner is equated with fulfillment, success and inner peace. Finally having sex after having “saved yourself” is billed as The Best Thing That Will Ever Happen To You, Ever.

And sometimes you get the extremely confusing combination of both extremes. (See “dirty to transcendent in 10 minutes” above.)

My problem with these extremes is that they’re not honest, and they’re not true. Yes, unwanted pregnancies and STDs happen…but plenty of people have active sex lives with multiple partners without these consequences. Yes, sex is effing rad (Really. Effing. Rad.)…but if good sex is The Best Thing That Will Ever Happen To You, you have very small dreams for your life. Seriously.

So here’s my question: How can Christians communicate about sex, especially to young people, in a way that is both honest and true? How can we communicate that the choice for chastity is good, really Good, without inflating the definition of Good to unattainable, unrecognizable and unrealistic?