Can We Talk . . . about Sex?

by Elizabeth Adams

Bishop Barbara Harris cradled her head in her hand; a young woman near me burst into tears and ran up the stadium steps. Gene Robinson and 4000 witnesses listened in silence as an objector to his consecration listed and described sexual acts that he ascribed to homosexuals. Mercifully, the litany was cut short by the Presiding Bishop, but not before the congregation, a world television audience, and Gene's own parents, partner, daughters, and infant grandchild were exposed to this expression of hatred, fear, and misunderstanding.

The highly emotional responses we've been hearing, not just from theological opponents but from people in the next pew, should tell us that an underlying issue is our great difficulty -- as a society, a church, and as individuals -- to talk about sex.

The level of vitriolic rhetoric and energy surrounding the consecration of an openly gay bishop has surprised, I think, even those who have been fighting for many years for full inclusion, recognition, and acceptance of gay and lesbians into the church community. Why so much energy? Gene Robinson himself has speculated that it has to do with the end of patriarchy, and I believe he is right. On a less theoretical level, however, it comes right down to sex: our personal attitudes toward sex and sexuality, marriage and intimacy -- and proceeds from there to our complex feelings about power and authority. The highly emotional responses we've been hearing, not just from theological opponents but from people in the next pew, should tell us that an underlying issue is our great difficulty -- as a society, a church, and as individuals -- to talk about sex.

We have an opportunity to do better. Even well-meaning individuals and parishes have encountered problems when attempting to talk about sexuality in a religious context. So without getting into the discussion of sexuality itself, I'd like to bring up four points and offer some suggestions about moving forward.

First, members of the gay and lesbian community continually repeat that it is dehumanizing to talk about homosexuality as a theory and an abstraction. It's equally dehumanizing to reduce anyone to their sexuality alone -- to define them according to one aspect of their personality and allow our focus to stay there.

A female priest recalled two nobly-intentioned New Hampshire Clergy Days back in 1996-97. The first was on the theology of marriage, with one presentation from the conservative position, holding that marriage as a heterosexual institution is inviolate, and one from a gay liberation perspective, saying that marriage has always evolved, from its earliest definition as property exchange, and is still evolving. The second event was a panel discussion about gay relationships, with panelists recounting their personal stories. Afterward, this priest remarked to the group, "Isn't it interesting that when we talk about heterosexual marriage, we talk in theory. And then when we want to hear about the gay perspective, we make them bare their souls. I want to know if next month we're going to have a panel of straight people: one who's in a happy marriage, one whose marriage ended in a horrible divorce, one who's single and can't get married, and one's who's suffered from abuse in her marriage."

These are very important points. In my own parish, some discussions of homosexuality have been viewed by heterosexual participants as sufficient, successful, and even cathartic, while homosexuals and progressive supporters have found them incomplete, theoretical, sometimes offensive, and often completely off the mark.

Secondly, we would do well to pay attention to our personal double standards when talking about sex, sexuality, and marriage. How many of us would care to have our sexual practices and activities openly discussed, let alone be grouped with heterosexuals who harm others through sexual behaviors from infidelity to coercion, pedophilia to incest?

The truth is that most of us are closeted sexual beings . . . When it comes to religion and sexuality, we need not only to tease apart centuries of repressive, patriarchal attitudes that have linked "holiness" and "non-sexuality", but to realize how complicated our personal attitudes often are.

The truth is that most of us are closeted sexual beings. Despite the prevailing culture of commercialized sexuality, nearly all of us are extremely private about our sexual lives. Many of us practice more variation that we would openly admit, and are inarticulate and inexperienced in honestly discussing our attitudes about sex, intimacy, and marriage. When it comes to religion and sexuality, we need not only to tease apart centuries of repressive, patriarchal attitudes that have linked "holiness" and "non-sexuality", but to realize how complicated our personal attitudes often are. For example, do we view sexuality as a gift from God? If so, how does that manifest in our own lives and relationships? Do we believe that sexuality is a gift given to all human beings, and that being fully human means being allowed to freely express, within the context of love, our sexuality?

Third, we need to examine the ways in which the church's definition of "holiness" has affected scores of people who are not homosexuals, but heterosexuals living lives that simply do not fit into a narrowly-defined pattern of traditional acceptability. Are we willing to consider, for example, not only sexually-active single people, but the sexual feelings of widows and widowers, or people who have never found a life partner? Many people in society do not feel welcome or comfortable in the church, while others are carrying around burdens of guilt because of perceived attitudes, old teachings, and old hurts. If we really mean to be inclusive, all of these people are part of our ministry.

Finally, we need to think about the role of the church in shaping attitudes toward sexuality in the future. In my parish, there has been considerable debate between those who want the church to function as a rigid "moral compass", and those who feel the church is a place for discussion of a broad variety of attitudes within the context of loving one another to the best of our ability. The gulf between those interpretations is vast but not, I think, unbridgeable.

When we look toward the opportunities for greater understanding of sex and sexuality that are being presented by Gene Robinson's consecration, let's make sure that we include gay and lesbian parishioners in the planning, as well as young adults and the elderly, and those who have lifestyles other than "married-with-children." And may our goal be to move away from theory, abstraction, and reduction, and toward self-knowledge, growth, and authentic relationship.

Elizabeth Adams is a writer and a parishioner at St. Thomas' Episcopal Church in Hanover, New Hampshire. She and her husband are currently working on a photo-essay about the consecration of the Rt. Rev. Gene Robinson for the Episcopal Diocese of New Hampshire. Elizabeth may be contacted by email at adams@intermedia-home.com.