(Not So) Small Comforts on Sexual Purity

Years ago, I asked a friend, in his 70’s at the time, “At what age did you finally outgrow the temptation to lust?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I’ll let you know when it happens.”

He hasn’t gotten back to me on that one yet. I’ve lived long enough now to know that he won’t. So let’s acknowledge two things. God expects us to be sexually pure. First Thessalonians 4:3 puts it bluntly: It is God’s will that you should be sanctified; that you should avoid sexual immorality. On this matter, the Bible is unequivocal, exceptionless and clear.

The other thing we have to acknowledge is that, for many of us, sexual purity is devilishly difficult to maintain. In the U.S., even talking about sexual purity is considered culturally prudish, puritanical and out of fashion. It is not just intolerant to speak of the biblical standard – that sexual relations are reserved for a biological male and a biological female who are married to each other – it is hate speech.

Not only is it taboo to talk about purity, but in a remarkable polar reversal of values, sexual libertinism is absolutely glorified. Film critic Michael Medved, in a speech at Gordon College, described how the media beautify what is not beautiful. “Having attractive people do immoral things in sumptuous surroundings tends to make those activities look attractive.”

In virtually every movie or television show, ridiculously beautiful people effortlessly navigate the complicated terrain of human sexual relationships. And they’re doing it in Hawaii. Or a Better Homes and Gardens bedroom. And it’s never awkward and there is hardly ever any guilt or regret or fallout. Nobody gets hurt or feels used or finds the experience anything but fulfilling.

That’s a lie.

In real life, people do get hurt when God’s good gift of sexual intimacy overflows its banks. There are consequences. There is enormous regret. And healing, if it comes, often takes years.

So, yeah, in this climate it’s difficult to maintain sexual purity. That’s why I think 1 Thessalonians 4:4 may be one of the most merciful passages in the Bible. Right after Paul tells us it is God’s will that we avoid sexual immorality, he writes, Each of you should learn to control your own body in a way that is holy and honorable. How is that merciful?

That Paul had to address this issue with people who lived prior to the printing press, television, moving pictures and the internet, highlights the agelessness of sexual struggle. We didn’t start this fire and we aren’t the first to feel its burn. Like Paul said in 1 Corinthians 10:13, this overtaking temptation is common – to people and to eras.

Another mercy in Paul’s letter to the Thessalonians is the revelation that we aren’t going to come by sexual purity naturally. We have to learn how to live right.

We should have already known that. Young parents spend hours on the floor coaching their babies to put one foot in front of another in what amounts to a controlled fall. We had to be taught to coordinate our hands, eyes and mouths to feed ourselves. Somebody had to teach us how to use the bathroom. We had to learn how to ride a bike, drive a car, play an instrument, dance a routine, hit a baseball, catch a football or find a golf ball in the woods. Virtually everything that has to do with how we use our bodies requires training. Why would that not include the most intimate bodily activity of all?

Purity, then, starts in the brain, not the body. I suspect that our efforts to tame what Frederick Beuchner called “the ape that gibbers in our loins,” fail because we focus on the loins instead of the thoughts that lie beneath.

If you are in the company of those of us who have failed, the comfort is that you have company. Long before temptation streamed through fiber optic networks onto the very device on which you now read these words, people were fighting and falling to this temptation like outnumbered soldiers in an enemy killing field.

If you have tried and failed to tame this feral part of your nature, the comfort is that purity can be learned. It may be that you were never taught or what you once learned has been forgotten. Either way, knowing that we can learn to control our bodies in a way that is holy and honorable gives us a place to start.

But the greatest comfort is this – you can be forgiven. You can be set free from the guilt of yesterday’s sin and live into the hope of tomorrow’s freedom. Jesus was tempted in every way – EVERY WAY – as we are, yet was without sin. And even though he knew no sin, he became the very sin that has conquered you, has conquered me. It stuck to him like skin and he took it to the grave. Three days later, he walked out of that tomb. But he left the sin – yours and mine – behind. Nothing about that comfort is small.