Sex & God: How Religion Distorts Sexuality by Darrel Ray Page A

better time tonight? Who is more in tune with their sexuality? Which of these is likely to experience a flood of inappropriate behavior or uncontrolled emotions?
    Here is a story that illustrates this thinking style. It was sent to me by an ex-Christian woman, Candace Gorham, of the Ebony Exodus project: 47
    Countless religious experiences in my childhood through early adulthood (Jehovah’s Witnesses, United Methodists, Non-denominational/evangelical,Baptists) taught me that sex was something to be feared. Despite the fact that everyone said that sex was good once married, the messages about sex outside of marriage were very different. Sex became this terrifying, disease-spreading monster that had the ability to ruin your life and tarnish your reputation forever. I cannot think of a single time when I was young that I got straightforward, non-religiously biased information about sexuality, safe sex, masturbation or even general education about male/female differences from religious institutions. They only taught abstinence. All that I learned about sex came from fifth grade D.A.R.E. classes, science classes about reproduction, one ninth grade health class, and obviously, friends and personal experience
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    There was guilt and shame in “touching yourself” and kissing. Even what I call ‘appreciating the beauty of the feminine’ was wrong because, if I were a lesbian, it would mean that god would hate me more than if I were a heterosexual fornicator. Though not a lesbian, my strong appreciation for that particular form worried me, sometimes more intensely than heterosexual encounters
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    During my first sexual relationship in high school, I was less worried about pregnancy and disease and more embarrassed that God was watching me every time I “did it.” I was sure that he hated me for giving up my virtue and felt that I deserved eternal hell. Regardless, I kept doing it anyway. At times, the guilt and shame were so extreme that I would feel physically ill afterward. I would literally have to roll over in bed and lie still for a few minutes afraid I would vomit
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    When I went off to college, I was resolute to abstain from sex before marriage. Shame ensued after my one and only one-night stand. Another one-time-only experience involved fairly innocent ‘messing around’ in a group. Both incidences were followed by periods of abstinent contrition
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    Once in a solid relationship, I convinced myself that God would recognize the purity of my heart and love me anyway. Sadly to say, that optimism didn’t last, and I entered a downward spiral into a deep depression sparked by my fear of God and love of man. Howdoes one choose between the intense pleasure of carnal love and the God who loves you, yet hates you?
    My college love and I married at 20 because we believed a prophecy that God had ordained it and we shouldn’t delay His plans. But even in our marriage, I struggled with my sexuality. Pornography? It repulsed me. Anal sex? It led to the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. Talking dirty? Profane! Trips to the ‘toy’ shop only produced gels and lotions. Suffice it to say that my husband’s and my exodus from religion was one of the best things that we could do, not only for our marriage but also for our sex life. I once believed that religious prohibitions plus messages to play the sexy vixen plus the guilty sickness from sex that persisted into my marriage made the orgasm more drama than it was worth.
    Now, I haven’t felt that sickness in years. I can do anything as adventurous or traditional as my husband and I agree to. Instead of telling people that only sex after marriage is good, we should be yelling from the mountain tops that sex after religion is better!
    Candace wrote her story in hopes that other people will find their way out of religion. Thus, her Ebony Exodus project is focused on helping black women get out of religion.
Religious Dams
    One of the myths that religionists perpetuate is that, without