In August of 1986, I was about to learn a lot more about sex than I ever wanted to know. I was quite content with being a girl and not ready to think about being a young woman, but apparently I had reached the time of life when one might hear about “the birds and the bees.” I was eleven years old. I heard horror stories from some of my older friends about the sixth grade health class that every student must take. Some students were as scared as me, while others viewed it as a rite of passage. Students laughed as they described the “funny” and “gross” things that we would learn in the class full of both boys and girls.

Every sixth grade student had to complete Health Class since it wasn’t an elective. It all began when my physical education teacher passed around our class syllabus. Each student’s eyes darted around looking for the heading “Sex Education.” There it was, almost as if it was in BOLD print, scheduled for our Health Class meeting numbers seven, eight, and nine. I cannot, for the life of me, tell you what she taught the first six meetings of class because I was too consumed with what we would learn in the classes centered on sex education. There was an endless amount of joking and laughing in the days leading up to it. I have no doubt that my joking and laughing were out of sheer fear, embarrassment, and curiosity. The sex education was enlightening to say the least. We learned about “the birds and the bees” (she actually used those words), sexually-transmitted diseases (with a graphic video showing pictures), how to put on a condom (a fishbowl full of condoms was at the front of the class, and we were told: “Grab as many as you need; we don’t want any babies running around this school!”), and HIV/AIDS. Absolutely nothing was taught in those three days about abstinence.

Although the topic of sex was rarely discussed among Christian families back in 1986, there was much free-flowing conversation about it in the world in which I lived. The fishbowl full of condoms made all of us blush a little bit. (Side note: I do wish I had learned everything I know about sex from my parents, not from my friends, the school system, or the media.) Fast-forward twenty-two years to 2008, when even among Christians sex is often discussed in a self-serving way. Rarely do we see blushing at the sight of sex on TV or movies. Conversations about random hook-ups and “friends with benefits” roll easily off the tongue of even the “good” Christian youth group girls.

On a weekly basis, I talk with young women (ages fifteen to twenty-two) who boldly swim in the dangerous waters of immodest dress, masturbation, pornography, one-night stands, and random hook-ups. As I listen to these young women, I am struck by three things in particular: 1) they cannot believe their behavior has progressed to this degree from just a few months ago; 2) each of these girls had all of the knowledge they needed to not be in this situation; and 3) the guilt starts to disappear as their hearts harden to the idea of repentance.

One question that I ask girls when I teach on this subject is: “What are you doing now that you said even a year ago that you would never do? Most girls (at least the honest ones) have some sexual sin in their life that they once thought they would never have. Sin is always progressive. It grows if we do not put it to death.

Most girls who talk to me about their sexual sin have grown up in the church, been involved with their youth group, and have loving parents. Why is it that with all of the knowledge in the world we still run after sexual sin? I’m not sure. Not the answer you were looking for, perhaps, but I do know that God in his goodness convicts us of our sin. We must listen to his prodding and seek mortification (“putting to death”) of our sexual sins. One of the saddest parts of counseling girls with sexual sin is when I hear them say: “I don’t really care anymore. I know I am supposed to care, but it feels too good to care.” It makes me sad because it scares me. I have seen in my own life how I have chased sin at all costs and ended up so numb to its effects that I stayed in it for even longer. I think it is much harder to grow up in today’s society than even in the 1980s when I was a teenager. I like the fact that I blushed at the idea of talking about sex. That is not the case for teenagers today.

A fascinating movie hit the box office a few months ago called Juno. It is PG-13, but it is a movie that I chose to see by myself, because I know that nowadays PG-13 is more like R. Juno is the story of how the sixteen-year-old title character and her best friend, Paulie Bleeker, start dating. First they’re friends. Then they have a baby. Then they decide to go out. Juno is—if nothing else—a telling inside perspective on the new teenage sexuality (or at least the world's version of it). All the old rules are out the window. Sex is just as likely to happen between best friends, or even near-strangers, as it is between those who are seriously dating. And having sex isn't necessarily a precursor to a deepening of commitment. It’s just one of many complications to be factored in as teens define their relationships. Pregnancy, likewise, doesn’t carry the social stigma it once did. Juno is an extremely accurate portrayal of teenage sexuality.

Perhaps among sixth graders in 1986 and sixth graders today there is little difference in levels of sexual promiscuity. But is there any difference among Christians and non-Christians? My purpose is not to evoke guilt trips. My hope is that we will search our hearts and lives and see if we are living as the world lives with regard to sex. Are Christians different from non-Christians in regard to sexual promiscuity? Our hearts will harden the longer we chase our “darling” sins. We must run to our King and confess boldly the sins that entangle and choke our walk with him. He delights to respond with grace and mercy in our time of need!

____________________________________________

1. www.pluggedinonline.com

Casey Cockrum is the Assistant Director of College & Young Adult Ministry at Independent Presbyterian Church in Memphis, TN