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"On Adultery"
Sermon by Catherine W. FitzGerald August 14, 2005, Presbyterian Church of Chestnut Hill
As I frequently do, I called my friend and colleague in Michigan a few weeks ago to ask her if she had any thoughts on the seventh commandment and adultery. "What's there to say?" she answered me, "Don't do it!" It seems fairly simple, what else is there to say? It is true, the commandment does not mince words-don't commit adultery. "What the commandment says in its immediate negative form is that whether monogamy or polyandry or polygamy [pertains], violation of spousal units thus established is a crime against God and humanity," writes Robert Jenson, theologian and professor at St. Olaf College. The inclusion of such a commandment within the Decalogue illustrates both the serious nature of this "crime" as well as the sober reality of our proclivity toward temptation. Despite popular hope, no magical transformation occurs when we take our wedding vows. To think that marriage would, in itself, equip one for fidelity is laughable at best, and dangerous at worst. The existence of this very commandment within our Scriptures indicates the realness of our situation-that fidelity is a challenge. Now, one might argue that it was slightly less challenging during the time Decalogue was given to Moses and the Israelites: after all, polygamy was the tradition of this period. But honestly, does having more spouses really sound easier??? The truth is, no matter what our current marital configuration, the temptation of adultery has always been and will always be prevalent. All kidding aside, I want to take a moment to recognize the sensitivity of this subject. There are no doubt some congregants for whom this topic will elicit feelings of pain, anger, and/or guilt. I want to remind everyone that God's work was ultimately redemptive, and it is my hope that with God, those who've been victims, those who've been violators, and all of us sinners, would find the redemption of God's Word in our lives. As was previously stated, adultery is a crime against God and humanity. It breaks bonds of trust, which are extraordinarily difficult to repair. It risks relationships far beyond the marital unit. In many situations, it can both knowingly and unknowingly, affect the lives of generations to come. Adultery: don't do it. That being said, I would prefer to focus on what it is that is at stake when we turn our back on the intimacy that can accompany fidelity. God may have commanded us to refrain from adultery, but God also gave us intimate human relationships as a gift. And so, it is to the beauty of the faithful and intimate relationship that I turn to today. This relationship begins with God's very being. Traditionally Christianity has identified God's love as agape. In essence, agape is "disinterested self-giving to the other": Jesus' selfless sacrifice on the cross being the ultimate expression of God's agape. But there is another type of love written of in religion and philosophy, that of eros. Eros is essentially the "needy desire for the other." Traditionally, theologians have rejected much consideration of God's love as eros-for to claim God is "needy" seemingly contradicts our understanding of God's nature. But as Dr. Jenson points out, "…God's love for us is not agape sheerly without eros, is not sheerly disinterested self-giving. When you think about it, who indeed would want to be disinterestedly loved? By God or anyone?" He continues: "The Father would not be the Father without the Son, and so would not be God. The Father needs the Son to be God. The Son would not be the Son without the Father, and so would not be God. He needs the Father to be God. The Spirit would not be the Spirit without the Father and the Son, and so would not be God. He needs the Father and the Son to be God. And if these three were not God, there would be no God. Thus need for the other, longing for the other, eros, belongs to the very being of God." An understanding of God's love as both agape and eros gives a greater fullness to our understanding of God the Creator. Of course, any acknowledgement of the eros of God, the erotic love found in God's very being was removed from our Christian understanding by the likes of our church fathers such as St. Augustine. Augustine would not agree to be baptized until he felt himself able to embrace the path of celibacy. Harvard Divinity professor and author Stephanie Paulsell explains: "His conversion is, in part, a seduction by Lady Continence, who appeared to him as he struggled with whether or not he could give up sexual relationships…. It is only when he is sure he can live without sex that he becomes a Christian." The Apostle Paul wrote that marriage was a solution if sexual desire could not be controlled: "it is better to marry than to burn," he warns the Corinthians. (And people wonder why the church has such a difficult time dealing with sexuality in any real and compassionate way!) Paul Lehmann, of whom Cindy has spoken these past few weeks, finds some redemption in the theology of Karl Barth. According to Lehmann, "in linking sexuality with the image of God, Barth has rescued biblical and Christian faith and life from Augustine's unfortunate libidinal stranglehold." Barth contends that our reality as male and female in itself reflects the inner-triune life and representative image of God. In part, the intimacy we experience as sexual beings is a reflection of God's image. That should be restated: our sexuality, our sexual intimacy can be a reflection of God's image. In effect, when we commune with our partner in a faithful committed relationship, we reflect God's nature. But, as in all things, too often have we perverted God's image in us. "We can, to be sure, make sex mean less than faithfulness; we can even make it mean the opposite," writes Jenson. "We can make it mean 'I really like you for tonight' or 'There's one more for my list.' But then we have no gesture left to mean faithfulness, and a culture-or a person-bereft of a sign for faithfulness is incapable of it, since faithfulness is the sort of thing which does not exist without a sign." Sexual intimacy, in its God-intended form, is the deepest sign of faithfulness. An understanding of the covenant of marriage as a reflection of God's faithfulness is supported by the prevalent Biblical analogies between God's relationship with Israel and that of a husband and wife. As Jenson describes: "Israel experienced the favor of her God as his passionate love for her… it was not because Israel was the greatest of the nations that the Lord made her his own, but because he loved her." In my mind, the greatest of this love-expression, this erotic love, is found in Solomon's Song of Songs. In this poem a woman "black and beautiful" and a man, "radiant and ruddy" speak the language of eros, the language of love's desire, "cataloguing every inch of each other's body, every smell and taste," describes Paulsell. Many interpreters, Jewish and Christian alike, have found in this song human yearning for God and God's desire to be in relationship with humanity. Here is the very best of human intimacy described in the song of lovers. It oozes sexual desire, loving kindness, and acknowledgment of the risks that accompany loving intimacy. As Paulsell notes, "The Song of Songs is a song about desire, and so it is also a song about the pain of separation, of missed meetings, of absence." These two lovers have opened themselves in vulnerable intimacy-have freed themselves to unite as God created. But the lovers desire is not merely sexual-it is a true desire for intimacy on all levels. As the woman writes, "This is my beloved and this is my friend." Every marriage offers the possibility for this intimacy. "The Song of Songs," Paulsell explains, "remains a testimony to mutuality in love, to the beauty of the human body, to the goodness of sexual desire and the power of love." Intimacy through mutual vulnerability requires work, self-sacrifice, mutual care, and, of course, fidelity. Perhaps this is why Jesus proclaims in Matthew: "You have heard that it was said, 'You shall not commit adultery. But I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lust has already committed adultery with her in his heart." I don't think Jesus was overly being overly cautious in this instance. Jesus here recognizes the powerful connection between heart and mind…and I would add body. If we don't use restraint with our thoughts, if we don't use our mental faculties to curb our lustful desires for others, can we really expect our bodies to make the rational decisions? Jesus recognizes that fidelity is a challenge on all levels-and advocates for the intimacy of faithful marriage. Paulsell concludes, "the wisdom of the Christian tradition for the honoring of the sexual body has most often been found in its advocacy of the marriage covenant as the best home for sexual intimacy." And now, I take a slight detour. I'll put forth Paul Lehmann's argument here, which will no doubt give cause for reflection: he writes: "The foundational instance of heterosexuality as the liberating instance of human fulfillment must be viewed as open to and not exclusive of homosexual discoveries of human fulfillment." He gives four major reasons for this belief, among them that "the cultural revision and renewal occasioned by the Abrahamic-Messianic intrusion upon the human story is a movement from the particular and exclusive toward the human and inclusive, refusing to stop short of the whole of humankind." Paulsell echoes Lehmann's contention: "Can we cherish the discipline of fidelity and then say that it is wrong for some people to live within the bonds of faithful love?" God has given each of us the hearts, minds and bodies to engage in intimate relationships, regardless of orientation, so that in our communing with our lover (notice the singular object-lover), we reflect God's very communion with us. The fundamental reason for monogamy and faithfulness "is that our arrangements here must shape the form and intensity of our relation to him," attests Jenson. And so we return to the Song of Songs. The Song of Songs is read at Passover to remind the Jews that God delivered the Israelites from slavery not only because of God's covenant bond to them, but also because God loved the people of Israel and desired their good. There is mutuality between the lovers in this song: a longing for the beloved and a desire to be longed for. God created us in freedom and gave us freedom to be faithful to him. In this way, God longs for us and perhaps longs to be longed for. God has shown his faithfulness to us, as he has, in a sense, made himself vulnerable by giving us the freedom to choose faithfulness. Ultimately, God is our Beloved, and we are his. Our best efforts at intimacy within marriage should echo the covenant bond made between God and humanity. Stephanie Paulsell, in writing of the radical commitments made in the marriage covenant, cuts to the heart of the matter. "We live by those commitments in so many ways and in so many circumstances-in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad, in wealth and poverty-until we are parted by death. When we mark those commitments by sexual intimacy and sexual fidelity, when we devote ourselves to learning to meet the desires of our beloved, and when we teach our beloved to answer our body's longing, we taste one of the sweetest gifts God has bestowed." Embrace your sexuality with the care and gentleness it merits. Be reminded that the covenant made in marriage reflects the commitment of three-the wedded couple and God. May our relationships in this life reflect the faithfulness God has eternally bestowed upon his people. In his name, Amen. |