Article
Comment
Identity
Romance
5 min read

Celibacy, the Pope and the dating app

There’s a desperate need for a new sexual revolution.

David is a postdoctoral research fellow at Oxford University’s Theology and Religion faculty.

An advert on a Underground platform shows a person next to the slogna: Thou shalt not give up on dating and become a nun.
Bumble's controversial ad campaign.

Recent news has sparked a furore over celibacy, and, as I will explain, the need for a new sexual revolution. Feminist theologian, Sarah Coakley, points to in her book, The New Asceticism, points to why we need this new sexual revolution

“the problem with desire is that it has become so heavily sexualised in the modern, post-Freudian period as to render its connection with other desires (including desire for God) obscure and puzzling.”  

A glance at the media on both sides of the Atlantic provides evidence. Senator Tim Scott’s singleness is derided on the US news cycle, and London Underground adverts for dating app Bumble undermined the choice to be a nun or make a vow of celibacy. 

For decades, the bowdlerised notion that Freud saw celibacy as a form of suppression, has created a deeply damaging myth that if you are not having sex, you are not just repressed, you are not even human. In its inaner, but still hurtful forms, if you are celibate, you are not trustworthy, a repressed pervert, or worse, worthy of being socially excluded. Of course, bad celibacy has had terrible results in and outside the Church, but so has bad marriage, and yet we do not treat the married or marriage this way. 

You would expect to turn to the Roman Catholic, Anglican or mainline churches for a nuanced and profound contradiction to a culture obsessed with what they see merely as a ‘lack of sex.’ Instead, the Pope was recently reported to have made the comment that there was already too much “frociaggine” in some seminaries. The Italian word roughly translates as “faggotness”. Matteo Bruni, the director of the Vatican’s press office stated: “As he [the Pope] has stated on more than one occasion, ‘In the Church there is room for everyone, everyone! Nobody is useless or superfluous, there is room for everyone, just the way we are.’” 

“The Pope never meant to offend or to use homophobic language, and apologises to everyone who felt offended [or] hurt by the use of a word,” Mr Bruni concluded in the Vatican statement. 

The Pope has made other comments about celibacy, dissuading gay people from entering the priesthood just on the basis of sexual orientation. It is hard to argue that this is anything but discrimination. If the Pope wanted LGBTQI+ people to inhabit a traditional ethic, then provide a way constructively for them to do so.  

This billboard ad reveals a culture which is erotically moribund and which has lost the fact that love is inevitably sacrificial in nature.

Now to turn to the dating app world, Bumble, aware of the new rise of singleness and celibacy (around 51 per cent of the American population is single), particularly among young women, struck out against this choice with controversial adverts. 

This billboard ad reveals a culture that is erotically moribund and which has lost the fact that love is inevitably sacrificial in nature. My heart sank as I saw this billboard on the Underground. As someone who wrote their doctorate on celibacy, and has chosen to be dedicated to a love greater than sex and marriage, and who chose to be consecrated and vowed to celibacy, I felt angry at the notion that my choice, and that of millions of people, was derided as fanciful. This felt like another chip off the liberal project that I want to believe in of true diversity of opinion, and a shared city and society.

However, the value of sacrificial love at the bedrock of late modern and post-secular society was revealed as still as powerful as ever with Bumble receiving a wide response of outrage, and the marketing manager responsible being subsequently fired. 

If we are to love someone, we must learn to deny choices and narrow our field of volition where we choose them over other pressing concerns. 

In reading this I felt that some justice had been served. I could not escape the words of Pope Benedict XVI : “When Jesus speaks in his parables of the shepherd who goes after the lost sheep, of the woman who looks for the lost coin, of the father who goes to meet and embrace his prodigal son, these are no mere words: they constitute an explanation of his very being and activity. His death on the Cross is the culmination of that turning of God against himself in which he gives himself in order to raise man up and save him. This is love in its most radical form.”  

For a moment, this radical love reflected in a healthy, non-repressive celibacy, which gives itself up for God and the other, and marriage as its sacrificial counter-part, was vindicated and, for a moment, was given the value it deserves, and which Bumble, and even at times, that God’s own church, have betrayed. 

If we are to love someone, we must learn to deny choices and narrow our field of volition where we choose them over other pressing concerns. Such a view of love has been lost both inside and outside the Church. 

Only a new asceticism, as Sarah Coakley avers, can purify “desire in the crucible of divine love, paradoxically imparting true freedom through the narrowing of choices.” 

The fact we have gained such an impoverished ascetical or moral imagination for our loves does not bode well for how not just single people, but all people can flourish. A life of flourishing which does not involve sexual acts or in which a love beyond sex can be expressed in friendship speaks to a hope beyond sex and marriage, without which the human heart will remain restless and unsatisfied.  

As Pope Benedict XVI states in his essay, Deus Caritas Est: “God is the absolute and ultimate source of all being; but this universal principle of creation—the Logos, primordial reason—is at the same time a lover with all the passion of a true love. Eros is thus supremely ennobled, yet at the same time it is so purified as to become one with agape.” Our society, from Pope Francis all the way to Bumble needs a new sexual revolution, which sees that sex is a clue to this deeper love of God for which we were created and which beckons us as with a faithfulness and passion no other lover can provide. 

Article
Comment
Death & life
Psychology
3 min read

A survivor shares how we can help prevent suicide

Allowing people to voice their despair makes space for hope to grow.

Rachael is an author and theology of mental health specialist. 

 

 

yard signs read: Don't give up. You are not alone. You matter.
Yard signs, Salem, Oregon.
Dan Meyers on Unsplash.

Were there signs I missed? 

Why couldn’t they stay for me? 

Could I have done something? 

These and a million other questions fill the minds of those who lose a loved one to suicide - and there are no easy answers.  

Suicide evokes a particular loss which can torment those left behind with grief and guilt. With suicide rates reaching a twenty-five-year high, too many people are living with these unanswerable questions. 

At the heart of many of these questions is the stigma which still surrounds suicide; it was only eighty years ago that suicide was still a crime and much of the condemnatory thinking remains.  

People still believe that suicide is somehow selfish, that it’s the reserve of only those most severely affected by mental illness or that nothing can stop someone from taking their own life if they’re considering it.  

The truth is far more complex and, thankfully, far more hopeful because whilst suicide is complex - it can be prevented.  

A heartbreaking 1 in 15 people will attempt to take their own life - and most will survive, with trauma, yes but also with the opportunity to build a life that they can bear. 

Suicide prevention involves the whole of society. From government, charities, families and friends, it has to begin with shattering the myths that perpetuate the stigma. And, we need to begin by changing the language we use: Suicide is not a crime that is committed so people don’t commit suicide, they die by suicide and by moving away from the language of committing we can begin to accept that suicide is no-one’s fault - it’s a tragedy.  

Suicide is not selfish; for many people in the depths of suicidality, they believe that they are relieving their loved ones from a burden, and it can affect anyone - including those with no history of mental ill-health.  

Many have believed in the past that once someone has decided to take their own life, there is nothing that can be done to stop them, but suicide is preventable with openness and honesty.   

A heartbreaking 1 in 15 people will attempt to take their own life - and most will survive, with trauma, yes but also with the opportunity to build a life that they can bear, but they need help to do so.  

We each have a role by reaching out with kindness and creating sanctuaries. 

As a teenager, I twice attempted to take my own life and I’ve lived with thoughts of suicide for almost twenty years, but I am still here - in large part due to the kindness of others as they held hope for me when I could not manage it alone.  

Perhaps strangely, the place I wanted to be the most in the wake of my attempt was church; it was the place I felt the safest and I wanted to be in a place where I could cry and let out my conflicted and confused feelings to God because I felt there was no-one that could understand what I was going through. I remembered the character of Elijah in the Bible who begged God for death and was met with God encouraging rest, nourishment and the opportunity to pour his heart out. It was what he needed in his darkest hour, and it was what I needed in mine.  

We cannot take on the role of mental health professionals - and neither should we - but we can be prepared to hear the hardest words and to listen to someone’s thoughts of suicide because research shows us that allowing people to give voice to their despair makes space for hope to grow.  

When people are struggling with thoughts of suicide or trying to navigate the aftermath of a suicide attempt, we each have a role by reaching out with kindness and creating sanctuaries; safe spaces for those who are struggling to express their despair and receive compassion. It might look like dropping around a meal, listening to them pour their heart out, advocating for them with mental health professionals or offering childcare or running errands.  

We can all play our part in changing the culture around suicide with language, care and holding hope for those who feel that all hope is lost.