The word sacred can sound a bit dusty and intimidating. Like an old cathedral with signs everywhere saying “do not touch” and “please be quiet.”
We might call something sacred if it has been dedicated to a specific religious practice or deemed worthy of reverence, probably by someone important.
But it can be hard to find a shared understanding of what is sacred. And as Vancouver becomes increasingly non-religious, even the idea of something being sacred at all is often brought into question.
What does it mean to call something sacred? In the Christian worldview, sacredness has a source. Something becomes sacred because of its association with the Divine.
For instance, the Christian practice of Communion remembers Christ’s death through wine and bread, which we eat and drink as an internal acceptance of him and a physical sign of our need for God.
Communion is sacred because we’re following the recorded words of Christ, who gave this practice to his followers. In each church tradition, there are also ceremonies that set the bread and wine apart – marking them as different from ordinary food and drink.
Sex is another act that Christians treat as sacred. Marriage sets two people apart by their commitment to partner with, care for and be faithful to each other. The ceremony is the Church’s way of affirming the sacredness of their commitment, including their promise of sexual integrity.
But what makes sexuality so important?
In popular culture and everyday conversation, very little about sex is treated as sacred. The two exceptions might be the value placed on mutual consent and the freedom for individuals to decide what is right for themselves without judgment or taboo.
Yet most would agree that personal choice and de-stigmatized sexual expression aren’t sufficient guardrails. We still need laws that govern sexuality. For instance, laws against abuse, laws protecting children, laws giving rights to spouses if the legal/social agreement of marriage is broken and laws about what sexual content can appear publicly.
These laws underscore something important: sex is not a neutral, purely recreational activity that people can sort out for themselves.
Sex is one of the most intimate forms of human interaction. It’s loaded with relational, physical and psychological layers. And even more soberingly and beautifully, heterosexual sex has the reproductive potential to create new human life. All these layers make sex fiercely potent – with great capacity for both delight and harm.
Thus our attitude toward sex needs to go far deeper than personal truths or preferences. Instead, we should refresh our understanding of the worth and dignity of the person, and let that understanding inform how we view sexuality – especially to protect those who are vulnerable.
The importance, or sacredness, of sex stems from the profound worth of every person.
The idea of each person’s ineffable worth is embedded in the Christian story of humanity. Like other ancient cosmologies, Genesis uses allegory and poetry to make statements about origin and purpose. God creates men and women, mysteriously making them in God’s image. Whole books have been written on what being made in God’s image means, but the crucial claim is this: God bestowed on humans a unique specialness by causing us to reflect God’s nature in some way.
In the beginning, women and men are at peace with each other, with God and with creation. As Abigail Favale writes in The Genesis of Gender, “This is the true telos or purpose of the human being: to become a reciprocal gift, to give love and receive it in turn.”
In this worldview, we are beings made with love and meant for love. We are meant to receive love and to express love to others. We are worth kindness, compassion, respect, tenderness and intimacy. We should not agree to less. And everyone we meet demands that same kind of treatment too because each of us, in our very nature, is meant for love.
Regardless of whether we call sex sacred, let’s not separate our thinking about sexuality from our respect for the profound worth of each person. If we believe in the dignity of self and other and treat people with the same kindness we’d like to receive, it will transform the way we live out our sexuality.
Ilana Reimer has written for several publications, including Ekstasis, Comment, Breaking Ground, Faith Today and Mutuality. Her newsletter, Counterparts, reflects on gender, sexuality, and human dignity. She grew up near Ottawa, Ontario and has recently begun a new adventure in Vancouver with her husband, Geoff.
She has written this comment as a member of The Bell: Diverse Christian Voices in Vancouver.