Let’s Talk About Sex, Baby! A Personal Reflection on Sex-Talk and Sin

CW: This post contains frank discussion about sex, abuse, and shame.

Conversations about sex often feel taboo in the church. For me, open and honest conversations about sex were off the table. Growing up, the church seemed to hold the stance of ‘no sex before marriage’ in a “full stop, no questions asked” way. What does it mean to not have sex before marriage, though? Does it mean penetration only? Or does it include oral or any genital stimulation? What about mutual masturbation or seeing someone else naked? I found that there was no space to question: Why are we meant to wait until marriage? Where in the Bible does it say to do this? How did this theology come to be? I had all these questions, but the church was silent and unwilling to engage. 

I was greatly impacted by this silence when I was growing up. One vivid recollection I have of this impact is when I got into a heated debate when I was nine about how my parents could not have had sex because ‘sex was a sin’! You might laugh at my lack of basic biology knowledge and awareness of how I was brought into the world. I look back at this memory with teary eyes that, at such a young age, my theology of sex was so screwed-up. I am horrified that I thought sex, even between married couples, was something God deemed as gross and wrong rather than a beautiful gift.

Before I continue my story, I urge you to consider why, at nine years old, I was passionately proclaiming that sex was a sin. How I was I wrapped up in such a strong theology of sex at such a young age? No one told me that sex was a sin, but growing up in a conservative Christian church and home, I learned early that if I mentioned sex I was met with horror. Whenever there were any scenes of a sexual nature in a movie, my parents would freak out and tell me to close my eyes and block my ears. I was taught that public displays of affection, beyond handholding  (even between married couples!) was something to frown upon. Even where a lot of these messages were not explicitly conveyed, the idea that ‘sex was bad’ was obvious to nine-year-old me; why else would the church act so weird on the matter and refuse to talk about it? I do acknowledge and am thankful for peoples’ attempts to ‘protect my innocence’. However, I cannot deny the way it has affected me. 

As a teenager, the church remained awkward and silent, apart from the clear expectation that I had to ‘wait until marriage’. I saw judgement passed on those who chose to move in with their significant other before marriage. Speculation and gossip abounded from other couples asking themselves “do you think they waited?” My own evolving views on sex where greatly influenced by this particular penchant of Church culture. My position was no longer that “sex is a sin” but rather “sex is a sin until marriage.” This may not raise any eyebrows; I still maintain the theological view that waiting until marriage aligns with God’s will. But notice how in both my earlier positions, sex and sin are tied close together. Why was my position as a teenager not ‘sex is a beautiful gift from God, made to be celebrated in marriage?’  When I look back, I wish my reason for waiting in my teenage years was not out of fear of judgement and rejection from the Church but because I had a theology of sex that was well thought through and valued sex as something worth waiting for. I wish too that I was taught that my sexual desires were natural and something I would celebrate and enjoy the benefits of in marriage, not something to despise. 

“I urge you to consider why, at nine years old, I was passionately proclaiming that sex was a sin.”

Instead, I was exposed to the cold judgment towards those who were having sex before marriage and sly remarks of ‘I hope she marries him’ and praises of those who did it the ‘right way.’ The message was embedded that my ‘purity’ was found in my virginity and abstinence from all sexual acts until marriage. I truly believed that if I engaged in any sexual act before marriage, then I ought to marry the man I engaged in that act with, or be content with a life of singleness as I would no longer be desirable to any good Christian man. 

This uncompromising and unforgiving ingrained understanding of sex led to me being totally unravelled and wrecked when I was sexually abused. I felt completely trapped and worthless; my only options were to either to marry an abuser, or be left alone and labelled as ‘used goods’. I felt isolated and disconnected from the church and unworthy of the hope being preached around me. The despairing truth for me was that when the church should have been the place I turned to for care and support, it was instead the last place I felt safe sharing my sexual abuse. From all I had been exposed to, I truly believed I would have been condemned by the church, when I desperately needed to be comforted. 

A massive theological issue with purity culture is that it ties your purity to your ‘virginity’, when purity and righteousness are found in Jesus alone. The deep-rooted messages that sex before marriage is a sin can also lead those who have waited until marriage to feel ‘dirty’ once they start to engage in sexual acts. Why is this? I believe it is because sex is being primarily taught as something sinful to flee from and not revered as a beautiful gift from God, designed for us to enjoy under the covenant of marriage. I truly believe that this small change of perspective in our discourse about sex would make a difference. 

In my own tale, I realised that the church was the last place I could turn to as a teenager when I started experiencing sexual curiosity and sexual abuse. The topic was so taboo, that I felt if I was to ask any burning questions I had about sex, and how God fits into the narrative, then I would be met with ‘we don’t talk about this.’ My theology of sex was so inhibited, brittle, and shallow because there was no safe platform to discuss the subject in the church. More than that, when I examine my experiences closely, I question if many churches even have a robust theology of sex. I wonder if sex is not discussed with any depth because churches do not know how to. It is a complicated and challenging topic, but one I strongly believe the church must be more diligent with engaging in and talking about well. The way we talk about sex matters, it affects lives. The truth is, God created us as sexual beings, therefore our theology of sex matters.

I acknowledge this is a complicated topic, with a wide variety of opinions and a short reflection cannot offer anything truly comprehensive. I am simply sharing my story and what I wish I had as a young person, which was a church that was willing to engage with me about all the questions I had about sex and had a theology of sex that sex itself is a wonderful gift from God. I truly wish that the word I instantly associated with sex was not “sin” and that I was taught that my purity and worth are found in Jesus Christ alone, not a man's touch.  

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Due to the personal and vulnerable nature of this article, the contributor has chosen to remain anonymous.