(Excerpt from Sexual Chivalry)
Chivalry seems to have a pretty negative image today. If chivalry was a good thing, then it’s dead. If chivalry isn’t dead, then it’s sexist and chauvinist. Basically a no-win proposition. I think that the idea of chivalry has got a bum rap. Yeah, I’m sure a lot of people abused the concept for their own gain. I’m sure that a lot of people did a lot of bad things in the name of chivalry. But that doesn’t mean that the idea of chivalry itself is bad. How many Christians have abused the concept of Christianity for their own gain? How many people have done bad things in the name of the Church? Spanish Inquisition, anyone? Christianity is good despite Christians, and I think the concept of chivalry is good despite those who may use it, abuse it, misunderstand it, or deny it. It is good, and just as relevant now as it was in days of medieval knights.
The most powerful summary of medieval chivalry that I’ve come across could easily be the defining theme of this book: Chivalry was living the kind of life that made one worthy to be loved by an honorable woman. Simple as that, and that is my desire for us. I hope it is a desire for yourself as well—Living a life that makes you worthy of the love of an honorable woman, worthy of your Beloved. This concept can revolutionize the way we live in our loneliness.
I grew up in the Church and sat through countless youth group talks regarding sexuality, relationships, and purity. Almost universally these reinforced my feelings of loneliness. I wasn’t having sex; I hadn’t even had my first kiss. I wasn’t dating anyone. What was the relevance of a sermon telling me to not have sex, to be careful with physical intimacy, or to date responsibly? Many times I simply zoned out, or opened my Bible and read (Ecclesiastes, usually). I already felt lonely and these sermons made me feel even more alienated because they did not address sexual loneliness at all; they did not address me. I often left a service wanting to go have sex just so I could be included in the whole conversation.
I wanted to be affirmed, to be inspired. I wanted to hear about how I could honor God and my Beloved with my sexuality now, even in my loneliness. I didn’t want to be told over and over not to do things that I already wasn’t doing. It was like sitting through sermon after sermon telling me not to murder.
“Murder is bad.”
“Ok, great. I’m not murdering anyone, what’s next?”
“Stop murdering.”
“Like I said, I’m not murdering anybody. What should I do instead?”
“Don’t murder.”
“(Sigh…) Let me know when you’re done here. I’m going to go take a nap.”
A conversation about murder ought to come around, pretty quickly, to a conversation about love. But when it comes to sexuality and issues of purity and immorality, the Church has a hard time figuring out where to take the conversation, and how to make the conversation powerful and relevant to even the most lonely of believers.
The idea of Sexual Chivalry can fill this void of the teachings and encouragements that lonely men desperately need. It answers the question “Ok, what’s next?” and pushes the conversation to higher ground.
“Sexual immorality is bad.”
“Ok, great. I’m not doing those things, what’s next?”
“Be the kind of man who is worthy of an honorable woman.”
