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A gift worth waiting for
Coming of age in the late '60s and early '70s meant coming of age during what is arguably one of the most tumultuous times in America in terms of defining social conscience.
The war in Vietnam, Haight Ashbury, Watergate, flower power and free love are all hallmarks of that historic, though thankfully short, era.
The war in Vietnam ended, after a fashion. Valuable lessons were learned on those killing fields and in the aftermath that followed. Lessons on restraint and tolerance were learned during that era, and democracy was tested internally as America discovered that she could hold even her president accountable.
Much of the excess from that era has faded to nostalgia, and images of hip hugger bell-bottom pants, the tie-dye shirts, long, straight blond hair held in place by a two-inch headband, all underscored by oversized flowers painted in primary colors on VW vans and cheekbones, set the stage for a humorous look back.
The memories are not all fun and games however. Indeed many are bittersweet, representing a loss of innocence never to be regained.
Civil unrest had its place and it purpose in the deep South, bringing the country to an awareness about the unfair treatment of people of color. We took that same energy to the fight against the war in Vietnam, and then took that same militancy to our own streets, warring against the "establishment" both with fists and with words, with the battle cry "Make love, not war."
A difficult time to come of age. A time when freedom of expression meant, for some, casting off the shackles of marriage, choosing rather to exercise their right to procreate whenever and sometimes wherever they so desired, and indeed, with whomever they desired.
This freedom of sexual expression has continued. Even in small town America, in our little conservative corner of the world, we offer a taste of the seamier side of city life on the east side of town. This new freedom has produced a culture that says, in effect, "If it feels good do it," or to quote a popular song from that era, "If you can't be with the one you love, love the one you're with."
Our health classes teach, along with the scientific processes of procreation, methods of birth control and ways to protect oneself from sexually transmitted disease. The hidden message seems to be one of indulgence. The urges are there and as long as steps are taken to prevent unwanted pregnancies or STDs, feel free to satisfy the urge. A kind of "They're going to do 'it" anyway, let's at least make sure they're protected." mentality.
Guess what. It ain't necessarily so.
The human race is not, as some would have us believe, just one step up the evolutionary ladder from common animals. We are not slave to our physical urges, we are not helpless against primal urges. Perhaps life would be simpler if we were just one step up the evolutionary ladder. This must be the allure of evolution, the lack of accountability. "I couldn't help myself. I am but a product of natural selection, only responding to some latent instinct from my forebears."
Balderdash. (Isn't that a great word? And it includes many of same letters found in its contemporary counterpart.)
Our original divine design included a gift. The gift of pleasure in procreation. An intimate gift, a gift meant to be shared with one, and only one. A gift unique to a unique relationship.
After all, we are called to be many things to many people. Children first, to our parents. Brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles and cousins. Then parents ourselves, and then grandparents. We are friends, confidants, comforters, teachers, workers and bosses. We are cheerleaders and chastisers, heroes and, sadly, sometimes we are the victims, in need of healing and comfort ourselves. We share parts of ourselves, at one level or another, with everyone we encounter in a day. We spend a smile in line at the grocery store with the clerk who wears the pain of her tired feet plainly on her face. We spend a moment on the floor with our grandson, putting puzzles together. We send messages of joy or sorrow, meant to be shared with heart friends. We expend precious life energy fulfilling the requirements of our jobs. We are many things to many people.
But we are called to be lovers of only one. We bring all of our other selves to that unique relationship as well, but only in that relationship do we share the deepest intimacy of who we are, physically and emotionally.
And that is what makes the cheapening of this gift so offensive. This is not a casual pastime, to be shared just because it feels good. Not a casual intimacy, meant to be passed around, from backseat to backseat or in the locker rooms of our lives. Nor is it meant to be paraded and pranced. It is a gift, a privilege, a promise.
The message of purity, of abstinence, of waiting, is that it is a gift worth waiting for, it is a promise worth keeping. It counters the message of our culture, and gives us the right and the reason to just say no.
Too late, some of us might say, the lesson is learned too late, for I have wasted my life in living the lie. To those I bring again the promise of full restoration found in forgiveness, found in the healing of all human hearts, found at the cross of the Lord. There the promise and the gift is given anew, the marriage bed restored, the promise fully realized.
"For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and they will become one flesh." Genesis 2:24 (NIV)