Tag Archives: sexual ethics

“What if you just went to an Open and Affirming church?”

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We regularly receive questions from people asking us whether we have considered attending an Open and Affirming Church instead of our current home parish. These questions have increased as we shared our “10 Things We Wish Our Church Family Knew” post because many people were mystified as to why we would remain in a church community in which any of those concerns are present. Some people have asked us the question because they know we live in a large city where it’s easy to find a church that has adopted an official stance as an Open and Affirming Church. [We know the specific language that church communities can use to indicate a high degree of acceptance of LGBT people varies across different Christian traditions, but for simplicity we’re going to run with the term “Open and Affirming” throughout this post.]

Yet, we do not feel particularly welcome or safe at Open and Affirming Churches either. Our goal in this post is not to critique Open and Affirming Churches. We are grateful for all of the work of so many Open and Affirming Churches do to provide sanctuary to LGBT Christians and those who love them. Our goal in this post is to highlight some of the shortcomings we see with the question “What if you just went to an Open and Affirming church?”

It is important to remember that churches who decide to become Open and Affirming also have statements regarding other theologically important issues. Even though we are members of the LGBT community, we do not regard how a church approaches LGBT people as the single most important of all theological issues. We are not saying that approaches to LGBT people don’t matter. After all, we found it critical to point out areas in which our own parish community falls short when it comes to accepting us as a couple. But to put it succinctly, we are not comfortable selecting a church or, more broadly, a type of Christian tradition based upon its teachings on LGBT issues when we are more concerned with its theological views on Christology, salvation, scripture, grace, and sacraments, to name a few. Responding to our concerns about our current parish with, “What if you just went to an Open and Affirming church?” implies that we should be able to forgo all other theological concerns for the sake of being in a church where people would support the presence of an LGBT couple. We understand and respect that many LGBT individuals and couples do make the the decision to leave more conservative traditions for Open and Affirming churches, and we do not wish to make light of that decision. Experiencing constant rejection is incredibly painful. Many LGBT Christians have been able to find Open and Affirming churches that embrace teachings they consider theologically sound. Different people find diverse ways of balancing the need for acceptance in a local parish with the need for a particular theological approach. All we ask is that others who reach different conclusions than ours on this issue respect our decision to remain in our current parish and our Christian tradition instead of leave.

We are both of a very firm conviction that being in the Church is supposed to be challenging. We believe that the Church envisioned by Jesus Christ is a place where absolutely everyone has the opportunity to connect with Him. What Christ calls us to is not supposed to be easy. We doubt that His vision for the Church included its members gathering in segregated rooms, each of us choosing the room where everyone looks like us, agrees with us, and enjoys the same music we do. The question “Why don’t you just find an Open and Affirming church?” suggests that the best course of action is for us is to forsake trying to be Church with our current congregation in order to find another community where we would be welcomed as an LGBT Christian couple. Every person in our current parish, even the ones capable of making extremely unkind remarks about LGBT people and issues, challenges us to be better Christians. We are doing our best to journey with this current parish as long as we are geographically able. We are very careful to consider what might be necessary reasons to change churches. We are skeptical of the idea that a person is obligated to move to a different church because of conflict with other members. Some of the coolest stories we know have come from situations where an LGBT person was committed to doing life within one church community that previously had no positive experience with LGBT issues. At the Gay Christian Network Conference in Chicago, we heard of a church who decided to break fellowship with their denomination rather than deny a lesbian couple membership. That sort of story cannot happen if people are constantly hopping around churches.

And, if we’re really honest (and hey, we do believe in vulnerability), then we need to say that we do not feel especially welcome in Open and Affirming churches either. The Gay Christian Network has connected us with fantastic, fabulous, and generally wonderful LGBT Christians. Every year, GCN hosts a conference where we gather as an incredibly diverse group and do our best to show Christ to one another. In a way, it is like attending our own Open and Affirming church once a year. A very large percentage of conference attendees are lay members or clergy within various Open and Affirming churches. However, despite knowing and loving these people for a very long time, we have seen that many of our friends from Open and Affirming churches have an odd way of balking at the idea that we have a vocation to celibacy. We often get questions like, “Don’t you know that Jesus will still love you if you have sex?” or “Are you still recovering from your time in ex-gay ministry?” We also get statements like, “Let us know how celibacy is working out for you in 5 years.” or “You really have a great way of glorifying the fact that you hate yourself.” When we try to share our personal struggles with these friends, we occasionally hear things like “I’m sure I’d have trouble believing God loved me if I thought I could never have sex,” and “Of course you’re struggling in areas of your life. You are so sexually repressed.” It seems to us that many Open and Affirming churches have a “zone of acceptability” for what constitutes a valid LGBT relationship; since we are not sexually active, we find ourselves outside of that zone. It’s worth saying that, at this current juncture, we have had more critical questions about our lack of a sex life from people with a liberal sexual ethic than we have had biting statements about our relationship from people with a conservative sexual ethic.

We have noticed that positive change happens slowly and surely. Even in our own parish, we have seen positive change. It is clear that a lot this change has happened through various people who love us sitting down and having a cup of coffee with other people who have been immensely challenged by our presence. Both of us have also seen this kind of change in other parishes that we attended before the beginning of our relationship. We would venture a guess that virtually every church has at least one person or family willing to get to know an LGBT individual as a real person in order to try and share life together. While these friends might be precious and few, they are also the same people who show interest in getting to know just about every other person in the church community. When we have shared stories about how Helen has made us feel a bit unwelcome in the parish with our close friends, nine times out of ten our close friends will make a point to talk a bit more with Helen. Those conversations make a huge difference. Additionally, we are our own best advocates when we go to church to encounter Christ, to pray, and to participate in the life of His Church. We should never discount the power of quiet fidelity.

In summary, we are exceptionally grateful for all our friends committed to walking on this journey with us. Sometimes, the best way to support us on our journey is to listen. There is power in being heard. The question, “Why don’t you just find an Open and Affirming church?” is much more seeking a solution for a perceived problem. We hope this post has been beneficial in helping you to understand how that particular solution carries with it its own difficulties.

Comment Policy: Please remember that we, and all others commenting on this blog, are people. Practice kindness. Practice generosity. Practice asking questions. Practice showing love. Practice being human. If your comment is rude, it will be deleted. If you are constantly negative, argumentative, or bullish, you will not be able to comment anymore. We are the sole moderators of the combox.

The Good Gays and the Bad Gays

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A reflection by Sarah

About a week ago, two members of my family, whom I’ll call George and Ann, had been reading our blog and decided to ask me some questions. George, who at one time believed many conservative Christian stereotypes about LGBT people, now holds to a much more liberal perspective on the morality of same-sex sexual activity. His wife Ann has always believed in a traditional Christian sexual ethic, not only where LGBT people are concerned, but also for heterosexuals. At one time, Ann also believed that homosexuality is a choice, but I’m unclear on whether or not she still believes this. Regardless, both George and Ann like Lindsey as a person and want to be involved in our lives.

With the exception of the season of life when I was discerning the possibility of a monastic vocation, neither George nor Ann had ever heard me mention celibacy before, so they had many queries. The two major ones were: “Do you and Lindsey feel called to this way of life until marriage, or in perpetuity?” and “Why have you never mentioned this to us?” I answered the first by stating that we believe God has called us to lifelong celibacy as a couple. The second question was a bit more awkward. I didn’t see any reason for us ever to have needed to clarify that Lindsey and I are celibate. It’s not exactly the way you introduce your partner to your loved ones, and no one ever expects relatives in sexually active relationships to announce their status as such at the family Christmas dinner. I wondered why it mattered to George and Ann. In terms of respecting our dignity as human beings, what difference would it make to any member of my family what Lindsey and I do or don’t do in our private lives? If any other couple told me that they felt called to live celibacy together, I couldn’t imagine myself asking why they hadn’t mentioned it earlier. A few moments later in the conversation, Ann dropped the bomb that I had been afraid was on its way: “If I had known, I would have felt differently about my decision not to let you stay in our guest room when you came to visit.” 

I bristled. The tone in my voice changed to defensive. A minor argument ensued. New questions popped back and forth between us like popcorn kernels in a skillet. As much as I respect Ann’s right to set her own rules for her own household, her statement struck me as ill-placed; it indicated to me that simply because I’m gay, she had made an assumption about my level of sexual activity, and now, she was making new assumptions because of my celibacy. Feeling that this was incredibly unfair, I noticed the initial, knee-jerk reactions that were flooding my thoughts. If she had known we were celibate, that would have changed her mind about the arrangements for our visit? Based on her previous assumption that we were sexually active, what would she have expected to happen during our visit? Gay sex in the guest room? Does she think sexually active gay people do nothing but have sex every time they’re behind closed doors? Was I really hearing that Ann was prepared to treat me differently than she had in the past, but only because she had learned about my celibacy? Ann could tell that her statement had offended me, and she apologized for the offense. But what bothered me most was that neither liberal George nor conservative Ann wanted to talk about why I had found Ann’s statement inappropriate. Both knew that Ann hadn’t intended to offend me, and I knew it too. But that wasn’t the point. I attempted, quite unsuccessfully, to explain my perspective: that my decision to blog with Lindsey about our celibate partnership ought to have no effect on the level of hospitality family members are willing to show us, and we understand and respect that Ann might not be comfortable having any two unmarried people stay together in her guest room, but it’s hurtful to know she would consider welcoming us to stay overnight in the guest room only now that she doesn’t have to worry about “condoning sin.”

Though we eventually resolved the issue, this situation is a relatively mild example from the many occasions on which I have been viewed as a different kind of gay person once someone in my life has found out about my celibacy. I’ve experienced both conservative friends treating me more kindly and liberal friends distancing themselves from me after learning this piece of information. I’ve been told that I am brave, self-sacrificing, and faithful for choosing celibacy. I’ve also been told that I’m a person of dubious intentions who represents everything that is wrong with traditional Christianity. It’s amazing how easily interpersonal relationships can take a sharp left turn because of assumptions about what a person does or doesn’t do with his or her genitals.

Western Christian culture has a tendency to use legalistic approaches when defining morality. To many modern lay Christians, a “bad” person is bad solely because of his or her engagement in certain sinful behaviors, and conversely, a “good” person is good because of the avoidance of those same behaviors. When the legalistic mindset is taken to the extreme, vocation becomes defined in the negative: being a sexually moral single means not having sex until marriage, or not having sex at all if one remains single permanently. Being a sexually moral married person means not having sex with anyone except one’s spouse, and in some Christian traditions, avoiding inappropriate sexual activity (e.g. oral sex, use of contraceptives) with one’s spouse. In this way of thinking, a “good” gay person doesn’t have sex, and a “bad” gay person does. Many Christians also believe that simply identifying as gay means one is having sex, and being with a partner certainly means this. It’s the default assumption, and it influences the way straight Christians treat LGBT people, both celibate and sexually active. A “good” gay person is worthy of love, welcome, and hospitality, but only if he or she makes his or her celibacy known to the world. A “bad” gay person is worthy of love-the-sinner-hate-the-sin-style admonishment, frequent reminders of Christian religious beliefs about gay sex, and the message, “You would be welcome here if only you would be celibate (or choose to become straight).”

Just don’t do the wrong things and we’ll accept you. Just don’t behave badly and we’ll never have to tell you our moral convictions. Just don’t sin and I’ll welcome you to sleep under my roof. As I see it, all of this amounts to: “Just don’t be human and the rest of us sanctified beings will leave you alone.” I do not wish to downplay the importance of morality in the Christian life or the significance of the big questions in sexual ethics. Furthermore, I do not wish to imply that we should all become moral relativists with no absolutes, or that the Church would be a better place if it adopted a laissez faire, “whatever floats your boat” attitude regarding sex. But sometimes I wonder how we got to a place at which members of the Church are more concerned with monitoring for the presence of sinful behavior than walking alongside and helping each other to work out our salvation.

Before my baptism, I was heathen as any human child born into this world. The Church is a hospital for sinners, and I fit the bill just as much as any soul who walks through the doors on Sunday morning. I am not a saint, a martyr, a courageous witness, a shining exemplar, or–yes, I’ll say it–an idol because I am celibate. Taking a peek under the hood of my soul would reveal, I imagine, that I struggle with just as many sinful passions as the next person–gay or straight, sexually active or celibate. I refuse to define my life as a celibate, gay Christian by whether or not I follow a set of mechanical criteria for what counts as sex. Celebrating the heroism of celibate gays while demeaning and vilifying those who are sexually active (and those who say nothing to indicate sexual activity status) is a dangerous business, and I believe it is contrary to the Gospel. To my mind, there are no “good” gays and “bad” gays. There are only people–sinners, all of us. And saying so is not the same as sugarcoating the reality of sin or dismissing the wisdom and teachings of the Church. While it does matter theologically and philosophically what conclusions we reach on tough ethical questions, a person’s behavior–what it actually is or what we presume it to be–should have no bearing on our decision to treat him or her with dignity and respect.

Comment Policy: Please remember that we, and all others commenting on this blog, are people. Practice kindness. Practice generosity. Practice asking questions. Practice showing love. Practice being human. If your comment is rude, it will be deleted. If you are constantly negative, argumentative, or bullish, you will not be able to comment anymore. We are the sole moderators of the combox.

7 Misconceptions about Celibacy

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Since starting this blog, we’ve become even more aware than we already were of how other people can misunderstand the celibate vocation. Many people have never heard of a person living a celibate life unless that person is a priest in the Roman Catholic Church. As readers have been engaging with our various posts via comments and email, it has been suggested that we must be caving to religious oppression, that we are glorifying “lesbian bed death,” and that we are fooling ourselves into thinking that we are not actually living in sin…. to name a few. We understand that the call to live a celibate life in a partnership is indeed a queer calling. We knew from the beginning that people would have questions and misgivings.

We have already taken some time to answer the question, “Why celibacy?” and have made our first attempt at defining celibacy. Lindsey also talked about why defining celibacy as merely avoiding sexual acts is especially problematic. We think it would be helpful at this point to discuss some of the most common misconceptions about celibacy. Our intention in this post is to give a brief overview of these different misconceptions based on our personal experiences of celibacy, and we’ll likely expound upon these ideas further in future posts. Some of these myths have overlapping features, so please consider reading the post in its entirety as we tried to avoid repeating ourselves.

1. Celibate people deny their sexualities.

There are two main ways that celibate people treat their sexualities. Some celibate people do actively try to cut themselves off from sexual desire, treating all forms of sexual attraction and interest as a temptation that ought to be resisted. Other celibate people work to integrate their sexualities within their broader self-understandings. When a celibate person is integrating his or her sexuality, that individual can more readily embrace moments of attraction. Attraction becomes a useful orientating tool where God connects a celibate person to other people, to professional pursuits, to times of spiritual growth, or to opportunities for recreation. Both the specific instant of attraction and the underlying sexual orientation and gender identity that fuels attraction are treated as a great mystery, wherein God orchestrates the diverse relationships that enable a celibate person to live a richly connected life.

Both of us tend to be very outspoken when advocating for celibate people to pursue a pathway of integrating their sexualities. We have known far too many people harmed by the more surgical approaches, and we grieve deeply that so many “ministries” have encouraged LGBT people to adopt an approach of trying to excise their sexualities altogether.

2. Celibate people are only celibate because of oppressive, conservative religion.

We can definitely appreciate that some people feel forced into celibacy because of their religious convictions. However, nothing could be further from the truth for many celibate people. Often, celibate people who have chosen celibacy because of religious convictions feel that this decision is exceptionally life-giving. We plan to address the topic of involuntary, forced celibacy in a future post. Taking a brief look at history, we can see that religion has created pathways that allowed people (especially women) to choose to live celibate lives. It used to happen that families would marry off their daughters in arranged marriages. The rise of celibate communities gave an alternative to that reality. We may get back to that point in a future post as well. This particular misconception about celibacy also downplays the reasons why people might choose to live celibate lives. Many celibate people we have met report choosing celibacy because a celibate life has enabled them to love and serve the world differently than if they were married. They wanted that different way of life.

3. Celibacy is unnatural.

This misconception is quite paradoxical because it assumes that a “natural” vocation necessarily involves sex. It is sometimes pointed out to us that celibate communities cannot reproduce, eventually die off completely, and are therefore living exactly the opposite of how nature intended. One of the most common examples of this is the Shakers, who were once a thriving community of unmarried men, unmarried women, and adopted children, but have vanished almost completely in the modern world.

The claim celibacy is unnatural places the natural order of reproduction as humanity’s highest concern. However, a population of people cannot die off because a fraction of people are called to live celibate lives. If a person places an emphasis on the “natural” order of reproduction to decide what sort of relationships are permissible, then we’d like to know if and how they think about contraception and sexually active same-sex relationships. We would especially like to challenge those people who use a liberal sexual ethic to say that celibacy is unnatural because, all too frequently, many people holding a more conservative sexual ethic are quick to decry sexually active same-sex relationships as unnatural. We would venture a guess that many who dismiss celibacy on the basis of its “unnaturalness” would not say the same about homosexuality.

4. A loving God would not ask people to be celibate.

Many people, both Christians and critics of Christianity, have somehow adopted the notion that if a person feels called by God to be celibate, then that call is inherently oppressive. A lot of people think that God’s calls come in the form, “If you don’t do (insert kind of call here), then you’ll die.” In this paradigm, everything God might call a person to do would be experienced as oppression.

In particular, once people start talking about a call to celibacy, some also seem to conflate understandings of different kinds of love. Some assume that a celibate person is incapable of experiencing and expressing eros and simultaneously neglect how God might provide opportunities for experiencing and expressing agape within the context of celibacy. These people conclude that because celibacy does not provide an outlet to express eros, then a God who is love would never call a person to a celibate vocation…. or that God only calls people to a celibate vocation if those people are not particularly inclined towards eros.

However, God has infinite perspective on what will bring abundant life to every person who finds himself or herself in Christ. With regard to those living a celibate vocation, many celibate people experience a profound sense of loving connection to the world. Elder Porphyrious devotes an entire chapter in his book Wounded by Love (so named in honor of the mythical pelican who pierces herself in order to nurture her young) to the experience of Divine eros. One way the two of us think about the role of eros in the celibate life is that the Divine eros overflows and makes radical hospitality possible.

5. Celibate people are afraid of sexual intimacy.

While this misconception is not without basis because some celibate people do become so in order to avoid having sex, the majority of celibate people are not afraid of sexual intimacy. Based upon when and where we frequently hear this objection to celibacy, we think that most people who promulgate this particular misconception are sexually active themselves and do not have personal experience with living a celibate vocation. Some sexually active people may see their sexual lives as adding a necessary spark to other aspects of their lives and will go to great lengths to preserve their ability to have and enjoy sex. When a person is making a significant investment in preserving his or her sexual life, then the presence of a celibate person could be perceived as threatening.

Many organizations that are a part of the ex-gay movement also rely on this myth to challenge an LGBT person’s statement of their sexual orientation and gender identity. Ex-gay organizations can be quick to say that gay people are simply afraid of having sex with a person of the opposite sex, gay people are trying to cope with a history of traumatic sexual experiences, and gay people are unable to deal with having experienced other types of negative sexual encounters.

At this juncture, we think it’s worth mentioning that celibate people choose to become celibate at different stages in their lives. Part of the misconception that celibate people are afraid of sex comes from the assumption that all celibate people are virgins. This assumption simply does not hold true when considered against verifiable evidence. Many people choose celibacy much later in life than many people might expect. For example, there is a well-established tradition of widows and widowers embracing a celibate, monastic life after their spouses repose.

6. Celibate people judge sexually active people.

People choose celibacy for a plethora of reasons. Those reasons may or may not include the idea that sexual activity (same-sex or otherwise) is inappropriate. Even if a person’s choice to embrace celibacy is partly motivated by a belief that sexual activity is inappropriate, that does not mean he or she is intrinsically judging another’s sexually active relationship. Many celibate people affirm the role that marriage can play in drawing people towards God and towards a holy way of living.

7. Celibate people are asexual or have low sex drives. For such people, celibacy is easy.

This misconception actively defines celibacy as merely the absence of sex. People who share this misconception are often looking for some sort of mechanism that makes it possible for an individual to live life without having sex, which many believe to be an impossible reality. However, this misconception makes a blanket assumption about the kind of person who chooses celibacy without being informed by the experience of celibate people. As we have talked with many different monastics about the intersection of celibacy and sexuality, almost all of them have remarked that they expect to navigate various kinds of sexual attractions and desires until they have been lying in their grave for a few days.

Both of us know a significant number of people trying to live celibate lives. At our recent workshop at the Gay Christian Network Conference, all of our nearly forty attendees agreed that celibacy is hard. We think it’s worth pointing out that most people we know who feel especially called and gifted towards marriage would be equally inclined to say that marriage is hard.

In conclusion, we’ve tried to expound a bit on 7 misconceptions about celibacy and explain why they are misconceptions. We hope this post was helpful for you in thinking about celibacy and encourage you to share your reactions, questions, and feedback in the comments. We appreciate your readership!

Comment Policy: Please remember that we, and all others commenting on this blog, are people. Practice kindness. Practice generosity. Practice asking questions. Practice showing love. Practice being human. If your comment is rude, it will be deleted. If you are constantly negative, argumentative, or bullish, you will not be able to comment anymore. We are the sole moderators of the combox.

The challenge of drawing “the line”

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A reflection by Lindsey

Many people begin exploring celibacy by trying to answer the question, “What counts as sex?” After all, if one defines celibacy as abstention from sexual acts, then it makes sense to spend time trying to figure out when a particular gesture of affection crosses the line into sex. However, I believe that actually making a celibate vocation work involves throwing this particular question out the window.

To say things a bit candidly, many definitions of sex focus on the location of the genitals. Sex can be “defined” when Part A interacts with Part B. In these definitions, sex is entirely mechanistic. <Please say this next sentence with a good deal of snark.> All the celibate person needs to do is mind his or her genitals. </snark>

I see many problems with this approach to celibacy.

Drawing “the line” at the genitals moves the line away from the heart, into a quantifiable legal idea, and asserts that one person can rightly judge another person. Celibate couples can make odd rules that seem arbitrary or artificial. “We will never look at each other’s bodies barring a reasonable expectation for medical care.” “Never touch a person in areas covered by a swim suit.” “Maintain separate bedrooms.” For some people living celibate vocations, these sort of boundaries may naturally emerge as they settle into their understanding of celibate life. For other people living celibate vocations, these sort of boundaries may hamper and impede extremely authentic expressions of caring. Can you give a person a hug if you’re trying to avoid touching areas that might be covered by a one-piece swimsuit?

Another huge problem with trying to live this way is that everything before “the line” becomes a new line. If you know the most physical contact you will have with a person is holding their hand, then “holding hands” can take on an incredibly sexual dimension. If two people “decide” that kissing is permissible, where is it permissible? Is it on the lips, on the neck, and/or on the cheek? If a person talking about a particular topic (completely unrelated to sex) is so intellectually stimulating and just flat out sexy [Yeah, just imagine an American’s reaction to someone saying anything with a strong English accent….], is that conversation topic (or style) off-limits on the grounds that it introduces “too much temptation”? It doesn’t take too terribly long to see that this sort of exercise quickly delves down to reductio ad absurdum.

From experience, I can also say that focusing on the “NO sexual ACT-ion!!!” mandate has a lot in common with the “Don’t think of a pink elephant” command. Whatever you do, do not think of a pink elephant! I said, DO NOT think of a PINK elephant!! I even put it in bold! Why did you think of a pink elephant?!? Our thoughts are entirely malleable, based on our environment. When a person trying to explore a celibate life is thinking, “Don’t have sex, don’t have sex, don’t have sex,” there’s not room to think about what one should actually do. There’s nothing in the “Avoid sexual acts” command that helps a person learn how to extend hospitality, be vulnerable, pray, or commit to a particular way of life.

I’ve previously shared that my sexual experiences came from difficulties in knowing how to navigate these lines. Even though I didn’t break any of my “rules” about avoiding sex, I didn’t have control over how my heart would connect a sexual meaning to actions previously deemed “safe.” My previous sexual education had me convinced I was in no danger of crossing “the line” into sex. In reality, that sexual education was more focused on defining sex as the action that preceded pregnancy. I don’t regret learning that sex can be complicated, consent is especially tricky in a world that constantly promotes the pursuit of sexual pleasure, and people can connect intimately in surprising ways. But I do wish someone somewhere would have told me that zooming in on mechanics can undercut the development of a healthy sexuality.

In order to discover how to live a celibate life, I had to throw the “NO SEX!” command out the window. I had to see how people actually lived a celibate life. I needed time and space to practice finding my own rhythm as a single person trying to live a celibate life. I craved authentic memoirs of LGBT people who had run the race and found life within a celibate vocation. I also had to learn to extend myself grace for the times I had shared an intimate experience with another person and unexpectedly found myself feeling like, “You know, I really think that particular thing was not aligned with cultivating a celibate vocation.”

Trying to stay on the “right” side of “the line” nearly brought about the end of me. I had spiritual guides and mentors telling me that if was intentionally deepening a relationship with another person, I needed to look out for any signs of developing inappropriate desires. My job was to search my heart to see if there was any offensive thought within me…. and so on, and so forth….

That kind of living requires navel gazing of the worst sort, especially when any failure on my part would justify God excluding me from participating in the life of His kingdom. I’d contend that no one can live life if they are under that sort of pressure. Equally, I’d say it’s heresy. It’s heresy because it’s GOD’S JOB to search our hearts. It’s GOD’S JOB to guide our paths. And it’s GOD’S JOB to prune off the various parts of our life that are not pleasing to him.

And I’ve found a great deal of release as I’ve asked God for His help in trying to discern what my celibate vocation looks like.

Comment Policy: Please remember that we, and all others commenting on this blog, are people. Practice kindness. Practice generosity. Practice asking questions. Practice showing love. Practice being human. If your comment is rude, it will be deleted. If you are constantly negative, argumentative, or bullish, you will not be able to comment anymore. We are the sole moderators of the combox.

Defining celibacy

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In this post, we are going to make a first attempt at defining celibacy. It’s a bit tricky because many people assume that celibacy is merely abstention from sexual relations. After all, that’s what shows up when you type the word into Dictionary.com! However, we think most people would raise a mighty shout of protest if we tried to define marriage as engaging in sexual relations. Many people would call out from the rooftops that there’s more to marriage than sex. Heck, even Dictionary.com goes with “(broadly) any of the diverse forms of interpersonal union established in various parts of the world to form a familial bond that is recognized legally, religiously, or socially, granting the participating partners mutual conjugal rights and responsibilities and including, for example, opposite-sex marriage, same-sex marriage, plural marriage, and arranged marriage.”

Phew! That’s a mouthful!

Suffice it to say, we think one of the reasons why marriage gets such an extensive definition is that so many married people work as lexicographers. There is power when married people are permitted to define what marriage is. However, there is a substantive gap when married people try to define celibacy. In this post, we’re going to try to define celibacy from our unique perspective as a celibate couple. We hope you all will give us the benefit of the doubt that we’ve actually thought deeply about what celibacy means. In no way are we going to be able to say everything about celibacy or develop a comprehensive definition in this post. We just hope to start a conversation.

For us, celibacy involves a radical hospitality, vulnerability, a shared spiritual life, and commitment. We don’t mean for this list to be all-inclusive, but it seems like a reasonable starting point.

Radical hospitality seems to be a hallmark of celibate communities (e.g. monasteries). Every celibate community we have visited has guest housing. (Perhaps that’s one of the reasons why we could visit them….. they’re committed to hospitality.) For us, in our home, the practice of radical hospitality means always being willing to host a guest. Whether the guest stays overnight in our apartment, joins us for a meal, or travels with us for a ride home, the guest is a welcome person. When we meet new people, we prayerfully consider how we might be some conduit of blessing for them. So far, God’s been pretty awesome to show up in our limited efforts.

We’ve talked previously about how vulnerability is a key feature in our partnership. Vulnerability so often gets associated with marriage. People who are in the know about healthy relationships would say that being completely honest, open, and vulnerable is essential for a healthy marriage, but no one ever really talks about how vulnerability could also be essential for a healthy celibate life. In the Russian monastic tradition, monastics regularly engage in a practice known as the confession of thoughts. During this time, monastics share their innermost thoughts with one another with the goal of knowing themselves and each other deeply in Christ. One of our favorite prayers in the Eastern rite says, “Let us commend ourselves and each other and our whole lives unto Christ our God.” For us in our relationship, vulnerably sharing our thoughts and our fears is a critical piece of negotiating the really tough issues we face together.

For us, it is unmistakable that celibate communities share a spiritual life. We have observed that many people conceive of celibate people as hermits. Hermits keep to themselves and avoid connections with anyone and anything in this world. However, the hermit is likely the least common way a celibate life is lived. Much more common is an arrangement in which celibate people are living together in religious communities. After all, celibacy became a much more viable option when people were afforded a choice to join a monastery rather than enter into an arranged marriage. Because the topic of a shared spiritual life is so vast, expect to see more posts from us about how we share our spiritual life as a couple.

Lastly (for today at least), celibacy requires commitment. This means both commitment to a way of life and commitment to other people. We find this to be broadly true whether a person is committed to celibate life within the context of a monastic community, as a couple, or as a single person. We believe that human beings have meaningful relationships with other human beings. In monasteries, these commitments get clearly communicated through various tonsure services in which a person is made a fully vowed member of that monastic community. Outside of monastic communities, people have a LOT more flexibility. One of our favorite phrases to say to one another is, “I’m opting in. I’m supporting you 100%”

We live in a culture in which commitment, broadly speaking, is frowned upon. Even the promises of marriage get treated as disposable. The phrase “just friends” is a great way to cheapen the commitment shared by two people who may not be married to one another. Our culture assumes that people are geographically mobile, ready to move wherever the winds of employment may take them.

By way of quick review, we would define celibacy by focusing on four major themes: radical hospitality, vulnerability, a shared spiritual life, and commitment. We expect that virtually every post we put on this blog will have something to say about one or more of these themes. We look forward to continuing to discuss how we live out celibate lives in the context of our partnership.

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