04-26-2002





























Putting virginity in its place


By Sarah Kramer

and Daniell Krawczyk

Staff Writers

A couple of weeks ago we attended the Reformed Engaged Encounter held at Camp Geneva. Though we went into it with our best attempt at a positive attitude, we realized two important things. First, a wedding is only a day, but Reformed Engaged Encounter lasts a lifetime. Second, and more important to the wider Calvin community, Christians tend to ignore the problematic aspects of physical intimacy, including the ambiguous nature of virginity.

One of the minor themes of the ``encounter'' was how horrible the relativistic world is. Why do people get divorces? Apparently it's because they enter marriage without a real commitment to each other thanks to their ``secular'' worldview. They apparently say to each other: ``Let's stay together for as long as it feels good.'' These same people are also said to say: ``I'll do what ever feels good to me; I have no God.'' The moral of these tales was that there is a clear right and a clear wrong answer to all of life's big questions: Should I have pre-marital sex? No. Should I stay with my spouse until death does us part? Yes. There is black. There is white. And it takes a fool (or a secular humanist) to not see the difference.

However, as many of us in serious relationships can attest, things are much more complicated than the promise, opal, pearl, diamond pathway, especially in the area of sexual expression. For some, the solution is to avoid all physical contact, including holding hands (which for all intents and purposes at least eradicates any ambiguity as to clear limits). For the rest it becomes a matter of drawing the line and fumbling towards the wedding day, while being told, ``It's simple, just don't have sex before marriage.''

Confession time: In high school, Dan was a youth group junkie. One of the unfortunate byproducts of this addiction (for which no one ever held an intervention) was two separate True Love Waits retreats. At these retreats they wielded Dobson's 12 steps of physical intimacy as if it were part of the armor of Christ, letting everyone know that the proper pre-marital line should be drawn after ``passionate kissing'' and before ``hand to breast.'' Though if you can't handle kissing, you should draw the line even earlier.

Five years later the two of us are sitting in a room with twenty-two other engaged (but definitely not engaging) people, being given an even more vague definition of what is ``acceptable'' and what isn't. Rather than even acknowledge the rather gray areas that constitute steps 8 to 11 (simulated intercourse, mutual masturbation, oral sex) we are told that instead of asking what is too far, we should ask ourselves ``Does this honor God?'' (Think about that the next time you try touching a breast.) Hence, everyone is back at the starting line left to figure out their own personal guidelines.

The concept of virginity is fraught with problems. Sure, we all know the penetration equals fornication equation, but as columnist Dan Savage aptly points out, this definition doesn't really cover all the bases. What about sexually active lesbians, or the trend of becoming a ``born-again'' virgin, and the large number of ``technical'' virgins who will have attained orgasm long before the walk down the aisle?

We're not suggesting however, that everyone abandon celibacy and start getting it on, but rather that virginity needs to be seen as an emotional state as well as a physical one. Rather than looking at the risks of STDs and unwanted pregnancies (which for the most part can be effectively circumvented by the proper use of birth control and condoms), a greater danger is the emotional damage that can come from having sex prematurely, both on an individual and relationship basis.

Moreover, there seems to be the notion that once the marriage begins, all the emotional barriers to sex that were created prior to the wedding night will automatically be erased and all will be well. This is an erroneous view that is often reinforced by the church and many abstinence materials.

Confession time again: When Dan was in elementary school he knew he was a good Christian because he never swore. He knew he was better than his little brother (who had once called him a s--head) since he'd substitute innocuous alternatives (shiphead?) with the same intentions. Now he has friends that equate sexual purity with a developed Christian lifestyle.

This leads to three of the dangerous aspects of virginity that we think are popular at Calvin. One, the spiritual identification of one's self as ``virgin.'' Two, the superiority complex that develops when one thinks of one self as being more ``pure'' than another. And three, a belief that the physical act of intercourse as being entirely separate from other acts.

It's not unusual for perceived ``holiness'' to be directly proportionate to a lack of sexual experience. Once your self image is built around the concept of virginity, though, it's hard to abandon it. So much in fact that you start to flex your definition of virginity so that you can remain in it. (Side note: Whenever we hear someone speak of a one-time ``accidental penetration,'' we wonder what exactly the accident refers to. Is it the Z axis they forgot to include in their calculations or the fact that they got themselves into that situation in the first place?)

These problems stem from the fact that many Christians are unwilling to frankly discuss the issue of sexual intimacy with others, and in some cases with their partners. This is not to say that everyone needs to get into who did what with whom, but rather to acknowledge one's sexual drives and the continuum of sexual expression that stems from that. Until we do so, we'll merely be awkwardly fumbling in the dark ending up frustrated and bothered.