Ka-chunk, crank crank crank...can of worms now open!
UnSpace last week featured a
thought experiment. Suppose a pastor is counseling a couple that wants to marry, and finds out that the bride-to-be is genetically male but has complete androgen insensitivity syndrome (CAIS) and has spent his/her life as a female. Should he perform the wedding?
This question brings somewhat closer to home the issues I was trying to raise in my
post about God and nature two days ago. There are actually a lot of people out there who are in between genders, and they come in all manner of variations. Some have even
organized to oppose efforts to assign them surgically to one sex or the other. Rob Carr later
says that, in his mind, the very existence of such people invalidates arguments against gay marriage, because "Nature is not confined to simple categories of man and woman."
By coincidence, the pastor at the church I attend is in the middle of a two-part sermon about sex. (This is within a six-part series on that triumverate of temptation, "money, sex and power.") Last Sunday he outlined a general Christian theory of sexuality, a lot of which I liked. I agreed with his disenchantment with the way our current society deals with it, at once magnifying and trivializing it. I liked the paraphrase of Paul on how the body is a temple of God, and should be treated with commensurate respect. I liked the acknowledgement of sexuality's power and potential both for good and for destruction. I understood when he said that adultery can be one of the most painful things on earth.
As a lot of Christians are wont to do, the pastor appealed to Adam and Eve as a paradigm for how things were meant to be. God created man and wife, told them to be fruitful and multiply, sex was wonderful until sin came along. Unlike some, the pastor did not identify original sin with sex (that popular spin isn't actually in the Bible). But he identified that as the point when it all started to go bad.
I couldn't tell if the pastor took the story literally or not (I suspect not, but you never know). Either way, though, many Christians do look to the story as a description of what God intended for us, before it all went horribly wrong. The innocent monogamous heterosexual union of two people who were literally made for each other was God's original design.
In a funny way, this Christian account of sex reminds me of its cultural archenemy, the sexual revolution. That was also an attempt to bring sex back to its supposed state of nature, and thereby cleanse it of its shame and darkness. Its idea of the natural state was less like turtledoves and more like chimpanzees, of course, but it shared the utopian dream that if you lose the dishonesty, jealousy and power plays, you could somehow return to paradise.
Very few sexual revolutionaries that I know of actually managed to live by the ideal. The time-tested institution of marriage is more suited to human nature, I think, and I am willing to buy the Christian assertion that it is the best home for most people's libidos. Heck, I feel I was made for it myself, despite my lack of actual experience with marriage.
But as Rob says, nature isn't that simple. Christian sexual utopianism also takes leave of reality at a certain point, and hermaphrodites are a good example. Although there is no conclusive evidence on this, it seems to lend credence to the idea that people can be born homosexual: if nature can make people physically in between genders, couldn't it mentally make all sorts of kinks as well?
I don't know what the Christian Assembly's position is on this sort of thing, exactly -- I suppose that will come in the next sermon. But I am somewhat familiar with Catholic thinking on these things, and as I understand it the Church admits some people are born different, in various ways. But the solution for those people is celibacy. What bugs me about this is the way it makes sex the exclusive privilege of those in the fat part of the bell curve. If you're gay or intersexed, if your spouse left you -- or doesn't get along with you -- if you don't want to have children, if you just haven't met the right person, and may never do so (like in my case), sex is not for you.
I wouldn't even mind this so much if it were just about intercourse. I can understand being sparing with the procreative act, what with all its mental and physical consequences. But it seems like a lot of these, er, nonstandard Christians are sentenced to fight the fact that they have libidos at all. I can't help thinking of this tragicomic
anecdote that appeared last month on Sed Contra, in which a homosexual (or as they say on that blog, same-sex-attracted) guy tried to confess to masturbating, only to get in an argument with the priest over whether it was actually a sin. Now, masturbation is a crude, second-rate sort of sex, I grant you, but it bothers me that someone who does not seem to have the option of heterosexual marriage can't even get the second-rate stuff. It's the ideal, or it's nothing. I also don't know where sexual fantasy, without any action, fits into this. I sort of elliptically tried to get at this with Telford Work a few months ago, but his
response didn't quite address the subject.
But anyway, the point is that arguments that God meant human sexuality to be this way or that way tend to run up against nature. Sex comes in a great variety in nature, and trying to draw from animals, whether doves, chimps or anything else, tends to oversimplify things.
It's not like I know the solution to this. Another post this whole thing reminds me of is Eve Tushnet's
response to Andrew Sullivan a while back. He wondered, "Why can we not leave the dark and difficult realm of eros out of fundamental moral teaching? ...More specifically: Why can we not hold up marriage and committed loving relationships as the goal but not punish and stigmatize the non-conformists or those whose erotic needs and desires are more complex than the crude opposition to all non-marital and non-procreative sex allows?"
Eve answered, "This is, no doubt, great news for the Mickey Sabbaths of the world; and the 30-year-olds who hang around DC high schools and impregnate my pregnancy center's 15-year-old clients ("but we're in love!"); not to mention those who seek to grope a goat (a dark and difficult goat, no doubt, but aren't they always). One of the reasons we should be grateful for the Church's guidance in the "dark and difficult realm of eros" is precisely that it is so dark and difficult, and it is good to have a light. Sex and eros often appear centripetal--driving us toward one another--but when they are not linked to caritas, promise-making, and loyalty they become centrifugal, alienating, isolating, and ultimately they can fragment our sense of self."
The annoying thing is, I sympathize with both of them. I understand Andrew's feeling that you should have an ideal of marriage without sexually freezing out everybody else. But I agree with Eve that simply leaving it out of moral teaching is untenable. If morality is anything, it's a philosophy of human relationships, with each other, with nature or with God; and sex is right in the middle of human relationships. It's also true that with "noncomformists," except those with physical deviations such as hermaphrodites, we only have their say-so about how they were made. Separating them from garden-variety sleazeballs is not so simple.
So for all the words I've expended on this post, I come to no conclusion. But since I am confronting everything Christian these days, it seems I have to deal with this one as well. And what God intended seems more perplexing than ever.