(This post is a five minute read. To listen to instead, scroll to the bottom of this page.)
The word sacred is rather under-used in daily life. It can sound a bit dusty and intimidating. Like an old cathedral with signs everywhere saying “do not touch” and “please be quiet.”
We might call something sacred if it has been dedicated to a specific religious practice or has been deemed worthy of reverence, probably by someone with authority.
But it can be hard to find a shared understanding of what is sacred. And as Canada becomes increasingly non-religious, even the idea of something being sacred at all is often brought into question.
What does it mean to call something sacred?
British writer and thinker Elizabeth Oldfield hosts a delightful podcast where she digs into that question. She asks her guests: what is sacred to you?
Some resist the word. Others want to call either everything or nothing sacred. But everyone has something profound to say about what they think matters most and why it is so significant to them.
My frame of reference for understanding sacredness comes from Christianity. In the Christian worldview, sacredness has a source. Something becomes sacred because of its association with the Divine.
For instance, the Christian practice of Communion remembers Christ’s death through wine and bread, which we eat and drink as an internal acceptance of him and a physical sign of our need for God.
Communion is sacred because we’re following the recorded words of Christ, who gave this practice of memory and fellowship to his followers. In each church tradition, there are also ceremonies that set the bread and wine apart, naming them as sacred—different from ordinary food and drink.
Sex is another act that Christianity often treats as sacred. Marriage sets two people apart by their commitment to one another above all others. The ceremony is the Church’s way of affirming the sacredness of their commitment, including their promise of sexual integrity.
But what makes sexuality so important?
In popular culture and everyday conversation, very little about sex is treated as sacred these days. The two exceptions might be the sanctity of mutual consent and the freedom for individuals to decide what is right for themselves without judgement or taboo.
Yet despite these values of personal choice and amoral sex, we still have laws that govern sexuality. For instance, laws against abuse, laws protecting children, laws giving rights to spouses if the legal/social agreement of marriage is broken, and laws about what sexual content can appear publicly.
These laws underscore something important: sex is not a neutral, purely recreational activity that people can sort out for themselves.
Sex is one of the most intimate forms of human interaction. It’s loaded with relational, physical, and psychological layers. And even more soberingly and beautifully, heterosexual sex has the reproductive potential to create new human life.
All these layers make sex fiercely potent. While “safe sex” is a worthy aim, it’s difficult to make anything as charged as sex truly safe. Where sex exists, there will always be the risk of heartbreak, betrayal, or abuse. Trust, good communication, integrity, kindness, and—I’d argue—commitment, are essential components for safe sex. And so are laws that can step in when those things lacking.
Our laws and social protocols around sex reveal a lot about whose values and rights we uphold, and whose we don’t. Which is why conversations about sex need to centre on the worth and dignity of the human person, especially those who are vulnerable.
The importance, or sacredness, of sex stems from the infinite worth of the person.
The idea of each person’s infinite worth is embedded in the Christian story of humanity. Like other ancient cosmologies, Genesis uses allegory and poetry to make statements about origin and purpose. In this story, God creates men and women, mysteriously making them in God’s image. Whole books have been written on what being made in God’s image means, but the crucial claim is this: God inferred on humans a unique specialness by causing us to reflect God’s nature in some way.
In the beginning, women and men are at peace with each other, with God, and with creation. As Abigail Favale writes in The Genesis of Gender, “This is the true telos or purpose of the human being: to become a reciprocal gift, to give love and receive it in turn.”
In this worldview, you are a being made with love and meant for love. You are meant to receive love and to express love to others. You are worth kindness, compassion, respect, tenderness, and intimacy. Don't agree to less. And everyone you meet demands that same kind of treatment too because each of us, in our very nature, is meant for love.
Maybe sacred is still a clunky, old word you aren’t ready to dust off just yet. But regardless of whether we call sex sacred, let’s not separate our thinking about sexuality from our respect for the profound worth of each person. If we believe in the incredible dignity of self and other and treat people with the same kindness we'd like to receive, it will transform the way we live out our sexuality.