Whispers from the past at Triangle Park

This morning I'm writing from the corner of West Main and Broadway in downtown Lexington, Kentucky. "The heart of the Blue Grass!" as they say. Due to my kids spring break, I'm spending a few days letting my parents do the "grand parent" thing. (Which means free child care for yours truly.) Now this intersection has a ton of sentimental value in my life. Across the street is Rupp Arena where my beloved University of Kentucky Wildcats lay the smack down on any opposing rivals. I've watched 25 years worth of college and high school basketball games at Rupp and have therefore stood at this intersection en route to Rupp on countless occasions. Not to mention I've attended a ton of street festivals and eaten at just about every restaurant in this city block. This really is one of Lexington's signature spots. But this intersection carries with it a memory that trumps all others. At this intersection, you'll find the fountains at Triangle Park.

In 1994, Donna and I had been dating for just under a month when we decided to go sit on the lawn near the fountains for an afternoon of hanging out together. What I didn't anticipate that day was the conversation that would accompany this casual outing. After an hour or so of talking and laughing together, I had this startling realization that the person I was with had no real knowledge of who I was. All she knew of me was what she had observed in our brief time together during events at our church and what I had portrayed to her in my actions.

She had no idea about my past! She had no idea about the trail of relational wreckage that marked the past 10 years of my life. She had no insight to the sexual escapades, the lying and cheating, the lack of integrity and character that had been a part of my relational MO. I had never functioned in an abstinent relationship in my adulthood and so she also had no idea that I was scared to death of the notion of being in a relationship where the physical dimension was not used to dictate or create stability or intimacy between me and the other person. That was until she saw the beads of sweat on my forehead.

As I sat at Triangle Park that afternoon, the magnitude of my past and the potential of my present swept over me like a thick fog. I realized that Donna was special and what was happening between us was special. I realized that if the potential that I sensed existed between us was really going to be unleashed, I had to come clean with who I was. So wiping the sweat from my brow (literally) I said, "We need to talk...". And for the next hour, we shared everything about our past. The good, the bad and the ugly. All of it. I really thought there was a chance she would walk a way once I was finished. My perception of myself was so low. But she didn't. In fact, it took our relationship to the next level. I felt connected to her in ways I had never been connected to anyone before. With Donna, I didn't have to pretend I was someone that I wasn't. I could honest and open about my struggles and my doubts. Our relationship, 16 years later, is still marked by this quality.

In conversations over coffee, I frequently get asked about sexual intimacy within a relationship. In these discussions, I sometimes get accused of being prudish and legalistic in my thinking about sex outside of the context of marriage. But as I was sitting across the street re-living my moment of transparency from 16 years earlier, I had one dominating voice whispering to my soul and it seemed to be saying this.

If you and Donna had not put sex on hold until you were married, you would have had very little talk about that evening. In other words, if I had refused to allow the life and thinking of Jesus to disrupt my life and my thinking in this area, my present choices would have been no different than my past choices. Our relationship would have been a similar version of an all too familiar story. One where our relationship was defined more by the physical than by the spiritual. One where the sex would become the CURE ALL for any sort of self disclosure about our past. One where sex would take priority and precedence over conversations about parts of our life that could cause problems for each other in the future. One where sex has the tendency to cloud our judgment about our character, our compatibility and our moral and spiritual constitutions. One where sexual fulfillment became more influential than the wisdom of a God that designed our not only our bodies, but also the desires that come with them.

The scriptures insist that sexual union is an intermingling of two peoples souls. That within the context of sex, there is a "oneness" that occurs and that this oneness is designed to be the seal of a life long covenant between two people. (Genesis 2:18-25) I believe this to be true in spades. I believe that when two people make the decision to have sex, they are experiencing something deeply profound and meaningful in that their bodies are testifying to what is right and true in a marriage. Yet, when this is done outside of the context of marriage, your bodies begin making promises that your hearts and souls have not resolved itself to keep. Essentially, you are doing something with someone that was meant to be done with THAT person and that person only..... for a lifetime.

As a community that prides itself on asking difficult questions, as a church that has a reputation for an openness to new thinking about Jesus, the scriptures and God's interaction with humanity, I find it ironic the amount of resistance I receive from others towards even considering this as a viable option in moving forward in relationships. It's as though there is this pervasive attitude that without sex, there is no point to having the relationship to begin with. But as a person who has experienced it from both sides, I've experienced first hand, how this not only reduces the relationships potential to explore a deeper sense of transparency, but it also causes someone to lose out on opportunity to trust God's wisdom for this particular dynamic of their life together. The Proverb, "There is a way that seems right to a man but in the end leads to death.", comes to mind. I guess I've seen so many relationships die. And usually, they are slow and painful digressions impacting more than just the two people within the relationship itself. I've watched people leave Watershed too because of the awkwardness and pain that exists when a sexually active relationship ends. It literally tears our Watershed Community apart. And so as a leader of this community, I have question whether or not culture and humanity in general has been getting it right on this front.

My premise is that we are not. That the wisest choice for two people to make would be to put that part of the relationship on hold until marriage. Sounds old fashion and archaic I know. But this is the direction to which the scriptures point. And if we are really honest with ourselves, our current thinking is just not getting us the results we really hope for in our relationships today.

If you are interested in hearing a more comprehensive talk or discussion on this topic, I would encourage you to revisit our Stogies and Stilettos series. Especially, the past two years worth. Peace on your week.