Why Christianity is Sexier Than Liberal Democracy
[From The Chimes (Calvin's Student Newspaper), Feb. 21, 2003]

James K.A. Smith, Associate Professor of Philosophy

Jackie Tao (“Sexetera”) has provided a clear, “realistic,” and “rational” account of the “simple reality” of sexual freedom. The argument begins from the “democratic” assumption that “it is one’s right and freedom to choose when to have sex.” Further, Tao describes the adolescent fulfillment of these sexual desires as “normal” and “natural.” After all, “we have to be realistic about ourselves and our capacities;” and certainly “we should not condemn those who” satisfy them. So Tao has provided a classic American liberal defense for sexual freedom (including adultery, if he follows his logic), beginning from a notion of individual rights and freedoms. In the end, Tao’s most fundamental commitments are to liberal democracy: “the most important thing is that they should be free to make their choice.” It’s my body, Tao seems to protest. And the Calvin community, if it is going to be “rational” and “democratic,” is called to recognize this.

The problem, however, is that Calvin—despite all of the ways it has been co-opted by American liberalism—is not a democratic, public community (I’ll ask Hauerwas to back me up on that). This is a confessional community whose first confession is precisely that “I am not my own.” In fact, more specifically, the tradition begins with the foundational confession that even my body belongs “to my faithful Savior Jesus Christ” (Heidelberg Catechism, Q/A 1). Of course, Tao is free to disagree with this founding confession, just as Calvin as a community is free to reject Tao’s religious commitment to individualist democracy; after all, some of the founding documents of his religion are a little old, written to different audiences, and are subject to all kinds of different interpretations (space does not permit me to address Tao’s un-nuanced criticisms of Scriptural authority). Let’s just not pretend that the one response is “rational” while the other oppressive. It is not a matter of choosing between authority and freedom, but choosing to which authority we will submit ourselves. It is not a matter of choosing between religion and freedom. It is simply a matter of choosing which religion: individualist democracy or historic Christianity?

In addition to pointing out the religious character of Tao’s position, and thus putting both his view and the historic Christian position on at least equal footing, I would briefly supplement this by reminding us of the very positive account of sexuality informed by the Scriptures and Christian tradition.

You’ve probably heard the joke: Why can’t Baptists have sex standing up? Because it might lead to dancing! But as a Reformed and charismatic Christian, I believe that dance is to be affirmed as a creational gift of a good Creator. I’ll let you draw the conclusion…
What do I mean to suggest by this? My experience in ministry, particularly with youth groups and twenty-somethings has led me to conclude that too many of our churches lack a positive theology of sexuality. I think this stems from the fact that we have adopted a version of “Platonism” (forgive me, I’m a philosopher). In other words, Protestant fundamentalism has adopted a view of the world and our bodies that resembles Plato’s view of the body as an evil prison for good souls. As such, all of the phenomena connected with bodies—like dancing and sex—are understood as basically evil by association. As a result, the only theology of sexuality that young people get in our churches is a negative one: Don’t do it! This negative theology can become so infectious that it even spills over into marriage. Having been formed by this Platonic/fundamentalist theology, I spent my first year of marital bliss still thinking sex was somehow wrong. (As my four children tangibly demonstrate, I’ve been cured of my Platonism!)

But this Platonic or fundamentalist account is not a biblical understanding of the human person. When we begin from a theology that affirms the goodness of creation, that entails affirming the goodness of bodies, and all the aspects of embodiment associated with it—like dancing and sex. However, all of these “goods” of creation fit within a certain “order” of creation. Stanley Hauerwas, drawing on Mennonite theologian John Howard Yoder, has recently given us a rich metaphor that I think helpfully describes this Reformed emphasis on the “order of creation.” Hauerwas speaks about “the grain of the universe;” by this he means to suggest that creation has a kind of “grain” to it, just as oak or maple has a distinctive grain, or a putting green has a certain “grain.” When one tries go against the grain, we run into terrible difficulties—it does not work well. But if we recognize the grain, and move with the grain, things are much easier. What would this mean for a Christian account of sexuality? Sexuality is part of the “grain” of the universe—a wonderful, important part of a good creation. And when this gift is received, welcomed, and celebrated with the grain of the universe, we will find wonder-full experiences of joy and shalom. But when the gift is mis-used—when we go against the grain—we will experience frustration, disappointment, and hurt. The “laws” which Tao rejects are in fact guardrails which are meant to guide us into the experience of joy and protect us from the pain of going against that grain. This is why John’s first letter reminds us that God’s commandments are not burdensome or oppressive (1 John 5:3).

Let me conclude with just one other affirmation: Reformed Christianity is at root catholic Christianity, which is at root a religion of grace. Some of us will have, at times, gone against the grain of the universe and experienced the guilt that engenders. Tao wants to free us from guilt by removing the guardrails and pretending there is no “grain” to the universe. But the Christian tradition offers a different way of dealing with that guilt, one that runs with the grain of the universe: the Creator’s forgiveness, accomplished in and by the God who became flesh for our sakes (John 1:14) and is acquainted with our temptations (Heb. 4:15-16).

According to Tao, young people at Calvin have only two choices: “either to live completely under the strict law or to rebel against it and be morally rejected.” This is a fallacious suggestion that ignores the fact that within the logic of Christian faith we need not accept either of his alternatives. On the one hand, we can receive both sexuality and “the law” as gifts of a good Creator. And while living “with the grain of the universe” is by no means easy (I’m not that old to have forgotten how difficult it is!), it can nevertheless be joyously pursued as an act of discipleship and formation. In this respect, I think Tao’s account is ultimately pessimistic, since it seems to think that temptations and desires cannot be undone, only satisfied or internalized. But Christian faith offers a radical alternative: the very transformation of our character and desires through formation by Word and sacrament.

On the other hand, even when we fail (and we must confess that it is a failure), we are not “morally rejected:” we are invited by the One who can “sympathize with our weaknesses” to “draw near with confidence to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and may find grace to help in time of need” (Heb. 4:15-16).