anyone lived in a pretty how town
(with up so floating many bells down)
spring summer autumn winter
he sang his didn’t he danced his did

 one day anyone died I guess
(and noone stooped to kiss his face)
busy folk buried them side by side
little by little and was by was
-ee cummings

When Adam was created, God presented him with a gift.  It was not the gift of sexuality, for that would have been pointless to the only human in existence.  It was the gift of his wife Eve.  And with her came a relationship that was able to express the beauty of the unity in which they were to live.  This distinction may seem an inconclusive one to make, but it is certainly not.  Cognizant sexuality as a bond between a man and a woman was given to us not as an end in itself, or as but as one of the more glorious reminders that in our unity we are fundamentally different from the creatures we were put in authority over.  We were not made simply to be born and live and die, like the animals having the rudiments of thought and joy untroubled as Dostoyevsky said, but rather were designed to walk through life together as sentient participants in the journey of life.  That is why loneliness is one of the most difficult burdens a person can bear.

This gift of another human being did not make Eve his possession.  She was made for him, but he was just as surely made for her.  I can think about it in terms of unity, but even then I am forced to admit that my own body does not belong to me, so neither does the wife who is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh “belong” to me.  Our sexuality reflects this, because it is something you cannot properly receive unless you are giving it away.  When I blindly pursue my own gratification I am costing myself the most wonderful part of what conjugal delight was meant to be: that is, sharing that delight with another.  Is that not what God did?  He certainly could have held back all the male and female magnificence in which he made us, coming up instead with some sort of little gray lifeless gnomes that scuttled around a barren world; but instead he took pleasure in sharing his very breath with us, creating us in his own image.  Even though it meant giving life to a race whose downfall would be our pride, in which folly the sons of God saw that the daughters of men were beautiful and married any of them they chose, yet it could have been no other way.  For redemption to be a viable solution, there has to be something there worth redeeming.  That something is the immortal soul, and to think that such a being could be created merely to indulge our desires is the ultimate contempt of which we so often find ourselves guilty.

Sex is a relationship that by its very nature transcends the physical.  Why do you think it is that lovers and poets (is there any true differentiation between the two, other than that the former feels what the latter expresses) must resort to metaphysical flights of fancy to describe their feelings?  It is only in the realm of the spirit that you can begin to do justice to the feelings that arise when two hearts are being knit together in the timeless spinning of love’s warp and woof.  I can remember when I would drive to Richmond every chance I got for the chance to spend time with my beloved.  The drive there took about five minutes (or at least it felt like it), the visit lasted for eons, and I would get home with only a few hours to sleep before I had to get up and go to work in the morning.  But the excitement of getting to know Lynn better and enjoying her company was worth every bit of the inconvenience.  I could not express the depth of that longing and satisfaction with any measure belonging to the four dimensions in which we live and move; it could only find its voice in my imagination.  Any lover can tell you this.

It is, I believe, impossible to think about love in the context of human courtship and marriage without including the idea of togetherness.  The greatest joy of finding that one person who shares your deepest dreams and fondest hopes is found in the prospect of walking hand-in-hand with them down the road toward those goals.  This feeling begins with a sudden wild surmise, when you first discover that your feelings are reciprocated, and it swells into a longing for closeness that is be fulfilled until the consummation of the union.  And even then it is only the beginning.  For the desire of the lover for his beloved is not for a few minutes of ecstasy, but for a lifetime spent with her.  It is not to find out everything there is to know about her in an hour, but to maintain a posture of mutual curiosity (that is to say, humility) toward “my sister, my bride” that will pass unfaded into eternity.  The purpose of the relationship, then, is not the pleasure of the moment, but rather the journey into unity with each other and with Christ.  Pleasure was meant to be an indicator that our togetherness is working; if it is sought apart from that and, God forbid, found apart from that, it can only bring heartbreak.

I love to watch a good dancer (which in case anyone was wondering, I am most certainly not).  They move purposefully and boldly, yet stay in perfect time with the music and with their partner.  There can be no doubt that they are feeling deeply what is being expressed with their body, but the articulation of those feelings is strictly governed by the rhythm and the tempo of the song.  In many ways this is a good picture of how our sexuality is supposed to work.  In the context of our marriages the fire of passion needs to burn clear and hot if we are going to meet each other’s needs, but our hearts are not given free rein to do what we will.  And the Gospel speaks into this as it does into all areas of our lives.  We are called, as Rick said last Sunday, to love our spouses well; but that love must not be confined to any one of the physical, emotional or spiritual realms to the exclusion of the others.  We are called to mirror the freedom of the children of God with our love; but that freedom must be used for the flourishing of others.  We are called to surrender our own desires and preferences for the good of another; but more than that, we are called to surrender our guilt and shame and find the joy of true holiness in the righteousness of One who stands in our place.  In the most beautiful of the Biblical paradoxes, our greatest freedom comes when we are most closely in step with the Lover of our souls.

If we have received the gift of togetherness, then our delight cannot be intended merely for ourselves.  If sexuality can be reduced in its entirety to the physical act, then it is no longer worthy to express what we were created for.  If a few moments of bliss is the highest good we seek from our togetherness, we declare ourselves to be of no greater worth than the animals we were set to govern.  But if we are judged under the law of freedom, then mercy triumphs over judgment.  This is the picture of love we are given to copy, stroke by laborious stroke, through our life on this earth.  It is the great consolation of every saint that though his canvas be sadly smeared with numerous attempts at depicting beauty, there is an original that is always kept before our eyes, and that will be unveiled at the Last Day.  It is the life of Christ himself, who redeems our love with his own self.  In him we are not just anyone, and we will rise again with him to take up these bodies once more in the glory of the Resurrection.

Author: Jeremy Vogan

My name is Jeremy Vogan. I live in Staunton, VA with my wife and four kids. I love to write, and seek to honestly explore the intellectual and emotional implications of following Jesus as a deeply broken person in a twisted, cruel world that is full of veiled beauty and meaning. Writing is part of how I faithfully look for Jesus Christ to someday make all things new. I'd enjoy hearing your feedback! JV