This review was originally published in the Journal for Spiritual Formation and Soul Care, Vol. 11 No. 1 (Spring 2018): 112-115.
Over the past few years, a staggering mass of print and online media have been devoted to erotic relationships between people of the same sex, and the certification of these relationships in civil and ecclesial marriage. In view of this vast discourse, and the fierce debates endemic to it, does an additional angle need to emerge? Todd Wilson, senior pastor of Calvary Memorial Church and chairman of The Center for Pastor Theologians, argues yes in Mere Sexuality. Among many good Christian perspectives, he discerns an abundance of attention to the biblical, personal, and practical dimensions of same-sex relationships, but a dearth of theological focus and historical context. Thus, Wilson aims to offer an introduction to “mere sexuality”, a shorthand reference “to the themes that have characterized the Christian vision of sexuality down through the ages … in other words, the historic consensus” (34). At its core, this vision is a reaffirmation of the crucial importance of sexual difference for theological anthropology in general, and human sexuality in particular.
In Chapter 1, Wilson reflects on the veritable sea change in public opinion about the ethical legitimacy of same-sex erotic relationships, not only within U.S. society at large, but also among American evangelical Christians. He identifies three major reasons for this shift: the loss of functional biblical authority stemming from hermeneutical pluralism, the refashioning of moral intuitions due in significant part to the greater visibility and proximity of gay and lesbian persons, and most fundamentally, “a truncated vision of human sexuality” that underlies the first two factors: “We’ve lost sight of a positive Christian vision for why God made us as sexual beings in the first place” (32). Wilson’s prescription for curing this theological and social myopia is “to recover the moral logic behind Christian sexuality: how babies relate to marriage, and marriage to sex, and sex to identity, and identity to being male and female – and how all of this relates to the person of Christ” (38).
Wilson begins his theological corrective in Chapter 2 by attending to the sexuality of Jesus, retrieving it as a primary locus theologicus by wresting it from ancient and contemporary versions of Docetism. The incarnation of Jesus entails the biologically sexed embodiment of the Word as a human male, as well as his development within and delivery through the body of a human female: “God the Son embraced male and female sexuality to the core. He didn’t sidestep human sexuality” (46). Furthermore, the resurrection of Jesus involves the continuation of his embodied human maleness. Thus, “he enshrined sexual difference for all eternity. God affirms his intentions in creation and promises that they will continue forever” (48). Finally, the celibacy of Jesus belies cultural scripts that seek ultimate meaning and fulfillment in sexual activity.
Tackling the relationship between sex, gender, and the Imago Dei is the subject of Chapter 3. Contrasting sex as biologically given with gender as socially constructed, Wilson laments the contemporary conflation and deconstruction of these two. He turns to Genesis 1 and argues “that being male and female is essential to being created in God’s own image” (69), which yields a vocation of appreciating and embodying our “distinctive yet complementary strengths” (74). This prioritization of sex difference is also crucial for marriage, the focus of Chapter 4. Wilson problematizes the companionate view of marriage that romanticizes the couple and overemphasizes physical pleasure. To counteract this widely held reductive vision, he urges reclamation of the comprehensive, exclusive, permanent one-flesh union displayed in the creation narrative. Wilson presses further in Chapter 5, as he delineates the twin purposes – union and procreation – of married sexuality: “in the biblical vision, sex is a blessing not because of the pleasure it brings but because of the purpose it serves: to unite lives and to create life” (97). Because same-sex erotic relationships can neither embody the one-flesh union of sexual difference, nor issue forth offspring, they fall outside the boundaries of mere sexuality.
In Chapter 6, Wilson demonstrates his awareness of the controversial implications of mere sexuality, namely that “it is especially difficult for persons who experience consistent same-sex attraction. It would seem to leave same-sex-attracted individuals with no legitimate, biblically sanctioned means of expressing their sexual desires” (111). Wilson considers the high potential of celibate loneliness to be “perhaps the strongest argument against mere sexuality.” Yet rather than rendering it a practical defeater for the historic consensus, Wilson instead sees this challenge as an opportunity for reformation of church practices toward revitalization of deep friendship.*1 This dovetails into Chapter 7, which expounds upon patience, the key virtue of mere sexuality. Patience is central to spiritual and sexual formation, including the pain of suffering, the longing for healing, and the hope of redemption. The conclusion urges faithful, creative expression of mere sexuality, which “must be done with joy, with tears, and with hope” (136) to be effective. Finally, there are two appendices: a brief account of the biblical convictions that animate the project (all based on 1 Corinthians 6:9-11), and a longer narrative by Joel Willitts, who movingly describes the anguished complexities of surviving childhood sexual abuse.
Wilson sounds several clear, winsome notes in his account of mere sexuality, including: a ringing affirmation of creation, embodiment, and sex; attentiveness to the significance of the person of Christ for theological methodology; strong pastoral instincts that both demonstrate and call for deeper sensitivity to the lived experiences of sexual minorities; clarity about the high stakes of the conversation in and for society; and confidence in the church’s historic witness, which indeed needs to be recovered afresh and humbly heeded in a confused and confusing era.
Nevertheless, several concerns with the book need to be registered. First, there are a few factual mistakes. Although these are relatively minor and do not affect the substance of his argument, the appearance of historical*2 and biological*3 errors partially erodes Wilson’s credibility. More seriously, he demonstrates a disquieting penchant for making broad, inadequately substantiated assertions. Some of these include: the claim that marriage is “the most basic of human communities” (36), which might strike the New Testament authors as odd, given the cosmic significance of the church; the identification that “God’s first call on our lives is to acknowledge rather than deny our sexuality” (70), which is an unusual gloss of Genesis 1 and could unintentionally prioritize knowledge of sexuality over knowledge of God;*4 the unnecessary antithesis between the unitive-procreative purposes of sex and pleasure (97), which runs against the grain of wisdom literature’s strong endorsement of physical delight; and the reduction of “the multibillion-dollar-a-year porn industry [to] the idolization of pleasure” (99), which obscures the centrality of power in the exploitation and commodification of women and children.
Perhaps the book’s most significant shortcoming relates to the ambitious aim to which Wilson set himself at the outset: “This book provides an introduction to the historic Christian vision of human sexuality, yet does so in conversation with this century’s main challenges to that vision” (17). The book’s highlights, where it comes closest to realizing this goal, occur when Wilson opens up space to hear from those who have been most affected by the challenges of same-sex attraction (Wesley Hill) and sexual abuse (Joel Willitts). Yet when other challenges (such as transgender or intersex) are involved, Wilson often resorts to generalizations.*5 He acknowledges that other Christians have written about these topics, but either refrains from engaging their work*6 or dismisses their arguments without explanation.*7 In this regard, Wilson does not fully follow through on the journey he asks others to make: “Keep reading to the end. Because only by coming to terms with the whole will you be in a position to make a responsible judgment” (20). Indeed, along with patience and hope, a humble commitment to full engagement with the complexities of human sexuality is vital for spiritual formation.
Footnotes:
*1 He draws extensively from Wesley Hill’s writings, including Washed and Waiting: Reflections on Christian Faithfulness and Homosexuality (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2010) and Spiritual Friendship: Finding Love in the Church as a Gay Christian (Grand Rapids, Brazos, 2015).
*2 He writes that the Defense of Marriage Act was signed “a decade ago” (27). The passage of the law occurred in 1996, twenty-one years before the publication of Mere Sexuality.
*3 His list of characteristics of male embodiment – “grows armpit hair, has a ring finger longer than his index finger, a deeper voice than most women, and a penis” – is both too restrictive (i.e., many male bodies have an index finger longer than their ring finger, due to the relative amount of testosterone present in their mother’s amniotic fluid) and too expansive (i.e., many female bodies also grow armpit hair).
*4 His surprising substitution of “sex” for “Aslan” as “not safe but good” (102) is even more problematic in this regard, ironically undercutting his critique of the idolization of sex.
*5 E.g., “It’s a lifestyle choice. The argument is that whether you’re anatomically male or female doesn’t matter all that much for your identity. These biological features, and how we express them, aren’t fixed; they’re negotiable” (63). Yet for people experiencing gender dysphoria, conflict between internally perceived gender and biological sex is both unchosen and very painful. Cf. also “The tragic developmental anomaly of intersex notwithstanding, there really is no third option” (70). Yet this is precisely the question that merits careful theological work.
*6 As in the case of Mark Yarhouse, Gender Dysphoria: Navigating Transgender Issues in a Changing Culture (Downers Grove: IVP, 2015), (177n13).
*7 As in the case of Megan K. DeFranza, Sex Difference in Christian Theology: Male, Female, and Intersex in the Image of God (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2015), (176n13).