By Muriel Porter (HarperCollins 1996)

Book Review/Essay by Rowland Croucher

‘Pleasure and play have remained the most difficult concepts of all for theologians to embrace, whether in sexuality or anywhere else!’ (p.120).

Muriel Porter’s book, writes The Bishop of Edinburgh, the Most Revd. Richard Holloway in his Foreword, ‘is a scholarly study of a paradigm shift in the Christian understanding of sexuality.’

If, according to Hans Kung (Christianity) there have been five major paradigms in the history of the Christian faith, we are now experiencing a sixth, according to the Bishop, and Dr. Porter.

Her thesis: ‘It is manifestly clear… that mainstream Christian churches have changed their minds substantially on fundamental issues of Christian sexual theology and practice. Theologies of sexuality change – they are not fixed in stone. But it is also clear that theological exploration alone, or in isolation, has never been the primary motive behind these changes. Moral consensus, rather than theological imperative, has clearly been the driving force behind the Church’s radically altered stance on divorce and contraception in recent decades. And it is moral consensus that is now pushing Christian thinking toward a radical shift in its attitude to de facto and homosexual relationships, which have become the latest issues in sexual morality to challenge the status quo.’ (pp.121-122).

In summary, Dr Muriel Porter’s polemic is aimed at traditional Christian sexual morality, which, she says, has severely disadvantaged single people, homosexuals, Catholic priests who might wish to marry, and Catholic couples who want to practise contraception (or remarry). The conservative Christian standard of faithfulness within marriage and chastity outside marriage left only two options – either to be married or celibate. The Church has been obsessed ‘with simple certainties and simplistic rules… Its asceticism has been ‘life-denying’ (p. 137). Churches have changed their minds about clergy marriage, divorce, and contraception. ‘No sex outside marriage’ is a rule that ‘may well have had more to do with the protection of women and property in a pre-contraceptive age than with intrinsic values’ (p.125).

So because ‘the Church has changed its mind often on issues of sexuality’ (p.2) (for example, the Protestant Reformers defended clerical matrimony; but to devout Catholics, a married priest was – and is – a contradiction in terms) it’s now time for the church to change its mind again, says Dr. Porter. Because of the availability of safe and reliable contraception, there are very few virgins in church weddings anymore. Indeed, the ‘traditional wedding’ with its powerful symbol of the white dress and veil, is a relatively recent invention: historians date modern marriage practices from the middle of the 17th century. The Hardwicke Marriage Act of 1753 was motivated by the upper class parents’ need to control clandestine unions. ‘Even into the nineteenth century, working-class people still usually began sexual intimacy once a promise of marriage had been given’: about one fifth of British people lived in a de facto relationship usually as a prelude to marriage. Among working classes little shame was attached to premarital pregnancy… (p.11)

Back before this, the church played little part in marriages in the first millennium of Western Christianity. Canon law upheld betrothal / mutual consent as the key basis for a valid marriage, rather than consent witnessed by a priest. Until the second half of the nineteenth century the church was not a major player.

In the Bible itself there are contradictory paradigms – in the Genesis stories and Paul’s teachings. The first creation story offers a vision of male-female equality; in the second the woman is a ‘help meet’ for the man. Paul writes that in Christ there is neither male nor female, but elsewhere argues that wives are to be subject to their husbands. Paul compares marriage to the relationship of Christ and his church, and seems to express a preference for singleness and virginity. Paul of course was teaching and writing in a milieu where Aristotle’s notion of women as incomplete males was commonly believed. Aquinas in the 13th century codified this concept, and, more seriously, viewed women as the source of sexual sin. Tertullian before him saw women as ‘Eves’ – they were the ‘devil’s gateways’ to bring sin into the world. The debate – both in Judaism (which Dr. Porter does not mention) and in Christianity as to whether women had souls (!) found expression as late as 1588 where ‘there is a recorded case of an English clergyman in Essex seriously defending the proposition that women did not have souls’ (p.18). Rules for the purification of women after childbirth were laid down in Leviticus 12:2-5; the Church of England Prayer Book of 1549 had a rite for ‘the purification of women’. Throughout Christian history, says Dr. Porter, there have been two models of womanhood – the virgin and the whore.

Hence the developments of Marian devotion and clerical celibacy. According to Augustine, virginity was vastly superior to marriage, and sexual desire is the direct result of original sin. So marriage is ‘good’, virginity is ‘better’. Indeed Augustine attributed three ‘goods’ to marriage – procreation/offspring, fidelity, and sacrament. Marriage is at best a concession to the weak (despite the ministerial ideal in the pastoral epistles of clergy being exemplary married men). It is thus understandable that the Catholic Church has opposed all forms of contraception (the 1968 ‘Humane Vitae’ is still in force). But the Reformed churches also opposed contraception until relatively recently.

For the first 1000 years of church history marriage of priests was not actually forbidden. Clerical marriage was declared invalid for the first time in 1139, and the Council of Trent (1563) ruled that those who promoted clerical marriage are ‘anathema’. Now why? Simple really: ‘Underlying Rome’s insistence on celibacy is the question of power. The celibate man is the Church’s man with no other focus to his life except the Church… Economically, psychologically, and spiritually he is the Church’s man, tied to it through a network of dependency’ (Paul Collins, ‘Mixed Blessings: John Paul II and the Church of the Eighties, Penguin, 1986, p.77). Indeed the celibacy law has never worked (only one-third of English clergy kept their chastity (p.88) when they were supposed to be celibate.

Of course, a serious concomitant of all this is that the Catholic Church’s teachings on sex and marriage have been the product of celibate male theological reflection!

So, in summary, ‘for the best part of 1500 years the Christian Church’s standards of sexual morality, and its attitudes to sex, were plain. Women were by their very nature impure, the cause of sin, and a constant danger to male sanctity… Sexual activity, even within marriage – and for the express purpose of procreation only – was always defiling… the sixteenth century reformers began the long and as yet incomplete process of turning that code upside down’ (pp. 37-38).

Some Renaissance people (Le Maistre 1432-1481, John Major 1470-1550 etc.) started to propagate the naughty (my phrase) idea that ‘sex for pleasure’ might be OK. English priest/scholar/humanist John Colet (1466?-1519) even suggested chastity was not possible for everyone – which of course flew in the face of the traditional dictum that prayer, fasting and other forms of self-discipline could ensure celibacy! Erasmus claimed that marriage was of value equal to that of celibacy – and even suggested that the unmarried state was ‘unnatural’. For him pleasurable sexual activity within marriage was of no offense to God, and marriage’s greatest joys lay in companionship and domesticity. Marriage is ‘the primary sacrament’ the one ordained first. Martin Luther was a little more ambivalent: he saw marriage as permissible, of course, but as a difficult and unpleasant way of life. Still entrapped within an ancient dualism, Luther believed marriage was the ‘proper medicine’ for the sex urge. His text was Paul’s ‘it is better to marry than to burn’: in this sense he was still unreformed. For Luther, the true celibate was one in a hundred thousand! (See the review of books like David Rice’s Shattered Vows on our homepage for proof of widespread concubinage among Catholic priests in today’s world). Luther saw the celibacy rule as having a corrupt, even financial rationale, ensuring the full control of church property and income by church officials rather than clerical families (p.49).

Of course, Luther was the target of official vitriol: apart from any other consideration, under canon law the marriage of monk and nun… was akin to incest (p.53).

Clerical marriage was a reality in England as early as 1534, but was first legalized there in 1549. On the Continent clergy had been openly marrying since 1522. Again, the rationale for the English law was not theological but ‘rather a concern for the godly living of the clergy’ and ‘an admission that marriage was the only way to control wayward human urges’ (p.65). But then the turbulent years following Henry VIII saw this law revoked by Queen Mary, to be reinstated by James I in 1604. ‘The first generations of married clergy in the sixteenth century were subjected to the full onslaught of the hatred and suspicion of human sexuality bred by the long centuries of the exaltations of celibacy’ (p.75).

The Reformers placed celibacy above marriage, but only Anglicanism, unlike other Protestant traditions, has continued to retain a respect for clerical celibacy. The Reformers almost to a man understood the sex drive as being diseased, influenced by ‘Church fathers’ like Augustine of Hippo, who believed that the one purpose of the sex-drive was procreation. Sexual attraction, desire and passion all came into the category of ‘burning’. ‘Sex for sheer love or pleasure was “whorish, adulterous love” that was always and everywhere defiling’. (p.81) But they also claimed that it was God-given, and that marriage was holy! (p.78). Their text: Hebrews 13:4: ‘Marriage is honourable in all, and the bed undefiled’ (AV). For the Reformers marriage was not commendable for the clergy for loving companionship and support, for help in ministry, or for the joys of children and family life. It is promoted solely for the prevention of sexual sin, based on the premise that clergy are no different from other men, having the same physical needs and “infirmity”.’ (pp. 84-5). Tyndale was an exception: ‘To take a wife for pleasure is as good as to abstain for displeasure’ (p.80).

The incongruity of it all is, of course, that while marriage for medieval priests was a ‘continual and unforgivable defilement’, any form of sexual immorality could always be ritually absolved, ‘allowing even the most debauched priest to fulfill the Church’s cultic requirements’ (p.89). The Protestant Reformation ‘brought a growing demand for the introduction of harsher penalties against sexual offenders’. And yet the official Church of England homily against whoredom did not call this vice a sin, but a ‘pastime, a dalliance’ (p.93). In the 16th and 17th centuries the clergy’s ‘attitude to sexual activity was generally ambivalent… it was casual sexual activity without commitment or obligation, rather than sex before marriage per se that was the object of their primary concern’, not least because of its financial costs to the community (p.94).

The council of Trent, in 1563, not only declared as ‘anathema’ any who claimed that clerical marriage was valid, but went further and ‘condemned any who suggested that marriage was better than, or even on a par with, virginity and celibacy.’ (p.99). And yet it must be noted that Trent’s teaching against sexual enjoyment within marriage would have been quite acceptable among most Protestants. The Reformers had a favorite euphemism for sex – ‘ the use of the woman’. ‘Women are seen as little more than sex aids for providing relief for male urges.’ (p.101). However, a married priesthood encouraged a higher view of women than had previously been the case’ (p.102).

Until fairly recently, the Church of England’s Book of Common Prayer gave priority to ‘procreation’ and ‘remedy’ rather than ‘mutual society’. (Interesting that contemporary Australian Anglican liturgies place procreation as the third ’cause’ of matrimony – a quite radical reversal of the traditional position.)

But the Church of England, alone among the reformed churches, retained the (13th century onwards) Roman Catholic concept of total indissolubility of marriage (though the ‘no divorce no remarriage’ line is not inflexible – annulments are possible (pp.105,112). The early church had ‘been quite ambivalent about divorce and remarriage, and this continued until the early medieval period. Adultery was generally the only permissible grounds for divorce – and was available only for the wronged husband. (p.105). ‘If a woman committed adultery the husband lost the certainty of the paternity of the sons who would inherit his property and name. The adultery of the husband was relatively unimportant, because the offense was one of property rather than of sexual propriety or even trust. This was in keeping with ancient marital laws. Theologians have demonstrated the overriding principle of protection of property obtaining in Judaic rules against adultery.’ (p.106). However, ‘marriage breakdown in traditional European society was almost inconceivable for most people, because the family unit was integral to the economy… Family members were interdependent in pre-industrial society; a person on their own was highly vulnerable… As industrialization and urbanization revolutionized European society, opportunities for life outside marriage increased. So the level of tolerance dropped. Husbands and wives no longer had to tolerate the intolerable in a way that earlier generations did. A corresponding demand for divorce and remarriage was inevitable’ (p.107). It wasn’t until 1923 that English women were given equal access to divorce on grounds of simple adultery – undeniable evidence that for most of Christian history adultery has been condemned principally because it damaged a man’s property rights’ (p.108). (It wasn’t until 1937 that grounds other than adultery – like wife-beating – were added for women! Until the second half of the nineteenth century wife-beating had not been punished in law – ‘a circumstance based on the principle that a husband had the right to “moderate correction” of his wife’ p.111).

The Australian Family Law Act 1975 has abolished all other grounds of divorce bar separation for twelve months. In Australia today about 40% of marriages can expect to end in divorce. One hundred years ago the figure was below 1%. Why? Simple: today there are choices: in the past this was not so. And even the Australian Anglican Church has two remarried men in active Episcopal orders (p.116).

Chapter seven moves the discussion to homosexuality. ‘On the basis of a few isolated verses of Scripture, the Church has built a teaching that, almost universally, has condemned homosexual practices as at least immoral and at worst a perversion and abomination. No distinction has been made in the tradition between monogamous, loving same-sex relationships and homosexual activity that is exploitative, abusive, or promiscuous. Even homosexual orientation has been presented as sinful in some interpretations of church law’ (p.125). Her argument: we’ve assigned the prohibitions against women teaching (1 Timothy 2:11-15) to the first century: why not the homosexual verses as well?

Dr Porter sees the rigorism about sex as analogous to the modern ecclesiastical debate about baptism/initiation – it’s a mechanism for control. ‘The church always seems to lose the plot when it succumbs to the seductive temptation to exclude… It ceases to be the community of the Incarnate One, and becomes instead a sect of the legalists’ (p.129) Such double standards inhibit the church from examining itself.

Gay clergy are in a specially vulnerable situation. All mainline denominations have them. They are either, says Dr. Porter, to remain celibate – which may be difficult for some (most?) of them; or they maintain a relationship in secrecy – also a heavy burden; or engage in a life of occasional promiscuity. ‘If gay clergy were permitted to live in open monogamous relationships committed to the best standards sought by partners in heterosexual marriage, the gift to the Church as a whole as well as to the wider community would be incalculable… In a time when the Church rightly condemns Western society’s obsession with the pursuit of sexual pleasure as an end in itself’ and the fruitless search for perfect romantic happiness, it would offer real alternatives for the full range of human need’ (p.135). One of the few ‘conservative’ concessions she makes to traditional morality… but she naively (in my view) believes that today’s obsession with sex is really a backlash against ‘centuries of unhealthy sexual suppression and anti-women attitudes’ (p.137). This begs the question: what caused such breakouts in other times and cultures?

Similarly for heterosexual Catholic priests: ‘it forces them to live a “double life” with all the pain and hypocrisy that that entails’ (p. 133).

The church prefers to condemn many men and women to a life alone, even though the ‘biblical teaching is clear that it is not “good”.’ (p.131). Nowhere do I find Dr. Porter distinguishing between psychological and sexual intimacy. She seems to assume that ‘not being alone’ means ‘being in a sexual relationship.’ Certainly intimacy is essential for human fulfillment, but it is possible to enjoy non-sexual intimacy. And it is not proven that sexual activity is essential to human psychological survival. Dr. Porter (eg. on p.133) assumes that sex is a ‘need’…

Conclusion: ‘As so many of its adherents around the world would insist, the Roman Catholic Church must very soon confront the reality of the innate goodness of human sexuality… The Christian Church, over its 2000 years of history, has changed its mind often on issues of sex and marriage. There are no “certainties”; there are no tablets of stone. It is time that that was recognized, and the Church was freed to offer Christ’s promise of life, in all its fullness, to all people.’ (p.142) …..

The Church has changed its mind of matters of human sexuality, driven by psychology, economics and the need to preserve institutional authority. It’s time, says Dr. Porter, for the Church to change its mind again. Surely (if I’ve read her right) sex is not wrong between committed people – and legalized marriage or gender are not too significant. ‘Commitment’ equals the traditional notion of ‘betrothal’. The marriage ceremony is of secondary importance to the reality of commitment. Dr Porter is critical of her archbishop for declaring that the Church “cannot endorse living together outside marriage as God’s will.” This, she says, is a harsh judgment, and one that ignores the long and valuable tradition of ‘betrothal’ in Western society – a tradition that persisted well into the 19th century.’ (p.123).

Dr Muriel Porter is a historian, not a theologian or psychologist or pastor. So the historical material is well-researched. It is sometimes surprisingly repetitive for a small book (there are a lot of ‘as we have noteds’). I have a hunch that a lot of her PhD stuff has been used to pad it out here and there. The bibliography is excellent.

I’d have liked a fuller discussion of homosexuality. With Tony Campolo, I believe we have to do more than simply bid homosexuals be celibate, but a lot more work has to be done by Christians on the issue of a compassionate sexual ethics for homosexuals.

Dr. Porter offers only negative rationales for traditional or conservative approaches – nor is there a rationale for the authority of Scripture at all… Which is the biggest weakness in her approach. The book concentrates on ‘what the Church says about’ this and that: but what does God say? How has God made us sexual? What are the Biblical teachings on all this? In an age which is more lenient about permissive consensual sex than almost any other in history, can we trust selfish humans to make right choices in these matters? She assumes that the Church’s sexual constraints are driven by institutional factors rather than God’s desire both to encourage humans to find joy in each other or to protect humans from each other…

And in any case (I want to do more thinking about this one) the Protestant Reformers were less revolutionaries than reformers. Their thinking about sex was less a ‘paradigm shift’ into a new way of thinking, but rather an attempt to recapture what the Bible was saying all along…

But, yes, the times they are a’changing. All the mainline churches are now turning a blind eye to premarried cohabitation and sexual experience. A minority of conservative churches may debar sexually active young people from church membership, but I’ve not heard of any clergy – even very conservative ones – refusing to conduct a wedding service for a couple if they’ve had genital sex before the wedding day. Most evangelical/fundamentalist churches would frown on people living in a de facto relationship being active church members. But homosexuals – now that’s another matter!

In summary: I like the approach, except that the polemic is uni-directional. It’s a polemic in favour of liberalizing dogmas about human sexuality. I would have liked a chapter or two with arguments about faithfulness and commitment. That’s the main thing lacking here. The Bible is both a divine and human document. As God’s Word it gives us guidance and direction for living; as the product of human beings it is to be interpreted within the context of the times in which God’s word was mediated through prophets, apostles and others. It is interesting that in terms of one aspect of Dr. Porter’s thesis – the issue of divorce, there are ‘exception clauses’ (by Moses, Jesus and Paul) catering to human weakness. There are also differing degrees of culpability in both Leviticus and the New Testament in relation to sexual behavior outside formalized marriage (however that formalization happens from culture to culture). The Bible has nothing to say about certain ‘modern issues’ like homosexuality as an orientation, masturbation, pre-marriage sexual permissiveness. (PS. I’d somewhere like to read a reasoned defense of polygamy/polyandry where there’s an imbalance of genders in any adult population. I think the Western church has not done justice to that subject).

If fornication in the Bible and in Christian history did not apply to ‘betrothed’ couples, the conservatives have got some explaining to do. But if the liberals are going to blame all or most sexual permissiveness on the guilt and repression caused by a reactionary Church, they’ve got more thinking to do too! Conservatives generally lack imagination; the liberals lack authority. Conservatives make absolutes out of relatives: liberals (like Dr. Porter) have difficulty finding absolutes anywhere. As I said on the Homosexuality issue: a plague on both their houses!

Rowland Croucher