Love is Better than a Test Drive

Today my husband and I celebrate our first anniversary. As I think back on the span of our relationship, I remember a conversation I had before Joel and I married. This friend (who is very much in love with his wife) could not understand how I could be contemplating marrying someone I had not slept with. "How can you marry someone you've never slept with?" he kept asking. "How do you know you'll even be compatible?"

I've thought about this comment over the past couple of years and every time I consider it, one thought keeps recurring: is premarital sex just a test drive?

The reason I can't seem to let go of this thought is precisely because this friend is so clearly in love with his own spouse. When he speaks of her, his entire demeanor changes, becomes more tender. He respects her enormously. I wonder if it has ever occurred to her how his questions regarding chastity might sound when applied to his own relationship. I doubt that he would ever consider it this way toward the woman he loves, but it sounds as though premarital sex is, to him, a way of testing a potential mate to see if she measures up.

"I love you... so much that I think I want to spend my life with you. Now lie down so I can see if you're good enough for me."

I know he couldn't possibly mean it the way it sounds.

Regardless, perhaps his questions deserve an answer. How can two people know they are compatible, if they have not slept together? How can one person know if the other will please?

The truth is that none of us knows what marriage is like, until we are in it. When a man is courting a woman, no matter how sincere they are, their behavior will evolve as their relationship evolves. Heaven help the relationship that never grows or evolves. Sex is, in that sense, no different from other elements of marital intimacy. The only way to know what a committed relationship is like with a person is to commit to that person.

Does this mean that it is impossible to have an inkling what to expect? Not at all. I knew, long before I married my husband, what he would be like in intimate situations. At least, I knew the important parts. I knew that he was generous, and made a priority of pleasing me. I knew that he physically desired me and I physically desired him. I knew that he always treated me with respect and passion... an important combination. I had no reason to believe that his personality would suddenly change when we were permitted to share a new level of intimacy.

The truth is, if we look carefully, it is not difficult to know what a potential spouse will be like sexually. A callous person will likely be a callous lover, and a patient person a patient lover. Aloof, generous, self-conscious, or silly, you probably know your potential spouse's character long before you walk down the aisle. If you don't, then premarital sex certainly isn't going to bridge the gap between you. Sexual intimacy doesn't cure a lack of emotional intimacy, but it can make such a lack more painful.

What it all boils down to is this: chastity is much more than mere abstinence. Chastity for people who are not in committed relationships is a protection from the sort who want to "test drive" them, using them as objects. For people who are in committed but premarital relationships, chastity is an opportunity to see one another in an honest light. It is a chance to evaluate just what kind of character this person has, before making the decision either to marry them blindly or objectify either yourself or the other person by subjecting yourselves to a test drive. It is a tremendous opportunity to grow in the kind of emotional intimacy that will only make physical intimacy, at the right time, better.

I cannot express how much joy it gives me to wake up in the morning, look at this person with whom I share total intimacy, and know that he is here for me, permanently. Chastity doesn't deprive our relationship of something; rather, it gives us the assurance that what love we give we also receive back... with no fear of losing it.

Christ Is Born! We Now Return You to Your Regularly Scheduled Programming.

To most of us, Advent (or the "Christmas Season" as it's commonly known to those who don't celebrate liturgical seasons) is a time of giving. As we fly around town buying gifts to give and foods to prepare, we can't miss the Salvation Army bell ringers, or the donation drop off spots for winter coats. Then, there are the food drives.

Ah, the food drives. The grocery store has 'em. The discount store has 'em. Even the schools and the religious ed classes have 'em. It's a good thing, teaching children to be generous, no?

It started with my son's class. The high school was having a food drive contest, and the first period class that brought the most cans, boxes, and sundry packages would win a pizza party.

Nothing like generous motives, eh?

My son, enthusiastic to do his share, spent a weekend asking me to take him to Wal-Mart so he could spend an allowance on generic ramen to bring to school. Yes, ramen. The one food that the hungry probably can afford. And if I couldn't bring him, could I at least let him bring something to school from our pantry? Anyone who didn't bring something would not be allowed to participate in the pizza party, should his class win.

Again, nothing like generous motives.

But it got me to thinking: how many poor families are there who can't afford to give allowances to the kids. You know, the very kinds of families these food drives are created to help. They tend to go to public schools, like my kids. They tend to be pressured into participating in these food drives, giving away food from their own pantries, so that they won't be excluded from the rewards of giving. It seems a bit counterproductive to demand participation instead of merely requesting it, and to make those who are unable to spare any food feel ostracized.

Well, my son was fortunate, and had his allowance to spend. He brought his share of non-nutritive food to help the class effort, and although his class did not win, he felt good for having contributed.

The next day, another child was rooting through the pantry for food to bring to an elementary school food drive. It didn't much matter that my check was two weeks late, and I was wondering how I was going to make ends meet myself: the pressure to give generously was intense. How could I say no, and deny my youngest a good example? Sensing a teaching opportunity, I took out one of the more expensive cans from the pantry and suggested it, since it was something that the needy might not be able to afford for themselves. I tossed in a few cans of soup for good measure.

Heaving a sigh of relief, I relaxed. My check would arrive any day, and we still had enough food to keep our rather sizeable family running till it did. That was when a third child came asking for food for another school food drive. That evening, the youngest came back for more, explaining that her religious education class was having a drive. Then, another child came for more for her religious ed class. Each head of each drive had explained the importance of generosity and the stinginess of not sharing. We were down to giving spinach.

Needless to say, I agree with the motive of generosity, but I was less than pleased with how this motive was pursued by each institution as though it were the only institution seeking it. Much more, though, I was bothered as another more saddening thought occurred to me. I thought about all the Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners that churches and other benefactors offer the homeless and other hungry. The food drives, the free coats, and the holiday dinners are good, and very important... but we seem to forget that the hungry need food all year long. Poverty does not mean getting hungry just once a year.

And that's when it hit me, my own fault in the whole flurry of forced generosity. We -- I -- need to be generous all year long, not just when we are smitten with the self-warmth of feeling generous. If we gave in the Biblical spirit of secret alms, and did so all year long, perhaps the schools wouldn't need to offer pizza parties to collect enough ramen noodles to feed the hungry for a month. It seems rather pathetic that they have to offer "good" food as a reward for bringing paltry food for those in genuine need.

Christmas may be over, but New Years is right around the corner. My friends, as we make our New Years resolutions, let us keep in mind the spirit of giving that kept us going for the past month. Now that we've given to our loved ones, and ourselves, let us remember all year long to be generous to those we do not know.

Coats don't kill people; people do.

It's a cold winter day, and tiny snowflakes dust through the air. My children stand at the door trying to decide whether or not to wear coats. It isn't that they like being cold, but they are victims of unreasonable academic responses to school violence. We live in the small town of Moses Lake, where the first of the school shootings took place. Some say that school violence is on the decrease and some say it is increasing. To the local school district, though, it doesn't make much difference what the trends are; what's done is done, and local officials remain on guard against any possibility of potential violence.

The ridiculous part is that none of the measures the local schools are taking would have prevented the tragedy that triggered these measures in the first place. The schools must do something, though, so they they enthusiastically do something. Anything. Regardless of its effectiveness, and regardless of the cost to innocent students.

Our junior high daughter is not allowed to wear a coat to class. Eight years ago Barry Loukaitis hid guns in a trenchcoat, so by jove the kids will not wear coats. They must stow them in lockers, and shiver in classrooms and passageways. The other option is to wear sweatshirts, which are allowed, and shiver to and from school.

Our highschoolers, on the other hand, have the opposite problem. To prevent school violence, their school has eliminated lockers. So while the junior highschoolers may not wear their coats to class, the highschoolers are required to wear them. But to compensate, they've outlawed trenchcoats. Evidently even the most violent sort of student, if he cannot wear the trenchcoat, will suddenly be peaceful. Students, I suppose, wouldn't be smart enough to figure out other places to hide weapons, if they were so inclined.

The other middle school, across town, is where the shooting took place. They consequently feel a stronger need to take an active role in preventing future occurrances. Rumor has it that, to prevent registered students from shooting one another in the future, they have adopted name tags to keep non-students off campus.

I'm feeling kind of stupid for not following the logic here.

In all of these useless knee-jerk reactions, the one thing I haven't seen is an increased effort at preventing bullying of the sort that set off Barry Loukaitis almost 8 years ago. They try, but they still miss the point. Our third grader came home with a handout about bullying, and what it is. It said emphatically that nobody has the right to bully you. Well, Barry knew that, too. But he didn't know how to control his anger when it happened anyway. Telling children that they have a right not to be bullied doesn't prevent bullying; teacher interference does. Better supervision, not name tags or shivering arms, is what makes the difference.

Extreme reactions like eliminating coats or lockers are usually too little -- or too much -- too late. Preventing non-students from being on campus does nothing to prevent registered students from doing what Barry did. If a kid is determined enough to do harm, he will find a way, with or without a trenchcoat. The key is to help kids not to reach that point of desolation in the first place.

And the only way to do that is with human involvement and concern.

Mercy Killing for Fun and Profit

What has the politically correct "right to die" movement to do with sexual predation? Nothing, one might think; one would be wrong. Now that society has increasingly accepted the idea that murder is right as long as the victim wanted to be murdered, killing is being not merely tolerated but sanctioned for a whole lot of motives that don't necessarily involve mercy.

We've been watching the drama play out in the Terri Schiavo case. We know that her husband, Michael, stands to inherit the rest of her million or so dollars supposedly earmarked for her rehabilitation, if he can only convince the courts to starve her to death. What once was promoted as a humanitarian movement now often bears little resemblence to any effort to improve the lot of the suffering. Society has come to accept when motives of mercy for the victim cross over into motives of selfishness on the part of others.

You might think that one case hardly constitutes a "slippery slope." Think again. Now the humanitarian argument is being used as a defense in a German case involving a cannibal who videotaped himself mutilating, killing, and eating a willing victim. (Warning: the full story may give you nightmares. Do not let your kids see this.)

It seems this man of (ahem) unusual appetites placed a personals ad on the internet seeking "young, well-built men aged 18 to 30 for slaughter." Since the victim answered the ad of his own volition, and declined opportunities to back out, the defense is arguing that this was killing, but not murder. "Killing on demand" is what Germany calls it. I think it obvious that the phrase was coined to encompass euthanasia, not sexual deviancy, but even so it is a crime. It carries a much lower penalty than murder, however, because Germany has bought into (or continued to buy into?) the idea that some lives are worth less than others.

I hate to put it so bluntly, when referring to a nation that has struggled to overcome the history of the past century; but the legal system bears out that in today's Germany, it is still possible to take some lives without it being called murder.

What we have to remember, though, is that as a nation we are in no position to cast stones. Our (United States) courts have allowed Terri Schiavo's feeding tube to removed before, and may yet again. Our courts have ruled that the lives of the elderly, disabled, and unborn are less valuable than those of healthy members of the workforce. And our courts have repeatedly ruled that those whose lives pose an inconvenience to others may be disposed of.

And most of us sit by quietly, lamenting but doing little.

The only way we can ease our collective conscience is if we speak up for the value of every person's life.

The Penitence of Advent

It's official... Advent is here, Thanksgiving is past, and we're allowed now to listen to Christmas music in the open. Deck the Halls!

I've heard occasional criticisms of the way that American Christians celebrate the coming of Christmas. Many faithful Catholics I know are quick to remind me that this season is Advent, not Christmas... liturgically, a "purple" season. For those of you who are blinking at this information, purple signifies penitence. My thought is that it is precisely because Advent is a season set aside, it is appropriate to get into the "spirit" of the season. Advent is penitent, yes, but not in the same sense that Lent is. It is a penitence not of sorrow but of expectancy.

Being with child myself reminds me all the more of the difference. I, too, am in a condition of "denial" as I wait and prepare for my little one. The little denials of pregnancy include things like alcohol and too much sugar. I have to be dependent on others to lift heavy objects for me. But in these little sacrifices, I celebrate. Expectant mothers wait for their newborns with both sacrifice and celebration, at the same time. I can't help thinking that this is how we can view the Advent (coming) of Jesus, also. I don't want to forego celebrating the coming of Jesus any more than I intend to pass on baby showers or enjoying the fun of talking about baby names. Part of the season of expectancy is preparation; and spending too much time on dourness and too little on celebration tends to make it harder, not easier, to remember whom we are awaiting.

But what about secular Christmas songs? Yes, it's true, we do have a lot of traditions that have little to do directly with Christ's coming. We sing songs about sleigh bells and shopping and snowmen; How does this remind us that we're preparing for Christ's coming?

My mother made a good point on that subject. She reminded me of my childhood, when at family birthday parties we would sing Ring Around the Rosies, and play games like Pin the Tail on the Donkey. What did these, indeed, have to do with the child whose birth was being celebrated? Yet songs and games that became tradition, even if they had nothing overt to do with the birthday girl or boy, were part of the celebration. They were not so much a sign of that person, or even of birth, as they were simply elements of our idea of celebrating. They were things set apart, things we reserved for birthdays. That made them special and relevant.

Celebrating that Christ is coming is appropriate, and it is likewise appropriate to celebrate this coming using feast elements that we reserve for Him, and for this time of year. If they serve to remind us to make ready for Him, then they have served their purpose.

My husband and I already have a cradle set up for the baby, and we already have decorations set up for Christmas. They both prepare us and add to our sense of anticipation.

O come, o come, Emmanuel! We'll keep the lights on for You.