Nelson points out that, ‘views of the cosmic order and of the nature of society are expressed in beliefs and rituals concerning the human body, and this is especially reflected in practices and rituals pertaining to purity and order.’ The Levitical holiness codes illustrate this well. As laws divinely-appointed for the Israelites for communal living and for expressing commitment to God’s covenant, not only is faithfulness to Yahweh required but also separation from idolatry and all associated practices. Correlations between perceptions of God’s holiness and human physicality are constant, confirming in turn what is religiously acceptable and what is taboo. The point being that what is religiously taboo is not compatible with holy living and results in disqualification from temple worship. Any Israelite viewed as ‘polluted’, or ‘polluting’, is simply in the wrong, regardless of moral intention or personal responsibility, and is separated from the rest of the community for fear of further contamination; the separation being temporary (isolation) or permanent (exile or execution), depending on the severity of the disorder.
Recognition that our bodies mirror and symbolize our perceptions of the world, and vice versa, needs to be central to Christian sexual theology. From here, we can more realistically consider contemporary issues ranging from sexual roles, gender identity and various sexual oppressions/abuses, to questions of liberation, holy living, sexual fidelity and appropriate boundaries. The primary focus of Scripture, according to Williams, is our being desired by God, who longs for us to desire him; this is the fulfilment of what it means to be fully human and fully satisfied. From this viewpoint, it becomes clearer why sexual imagery is used in the Bible without inhibition and with celebration and blessing in mind - the Song of Songs being a prominent example. What remains unclear is why human sexual desire is then so rarely viewed as a matter of grace, if it is accepted at all beyond clarified or conditioned exegesis. We are taught through subjective interpretation that, sexual desire must only arise in specific ways, in certain circumstances and only between certain people; with marketing and advertising providing further ‘guidelines’ regarding how we can only be sexually desirable if we look/dress/smell/weigh/spend money the right way! Unsurprisingly, desire incorporates various vulnerabilities, possibilities and risks, since they involve exposure to another human being’s perception. Williams recognises that for desire to work fully it must be experienced mutually by both people involved, not simply be directed from one person towards another. He comments insightfully, ‘For my body to be the cause of joy, and the fulfilment of desire for me, it must be there for someone else, be perceived, accepted and nurtured. . . Only in the mutuality of creating joy and enjoyment in and for those involved does desire then become unreservedly loving.’
Meanings of sexual expression are conveyed by social consensus in much the same way language and cultural traits develop, so a sexual act may actually have a range of meanings, depending on the context. For example, penetrative intercourse may be wholly pleasurable to both partners sharing the intimacy, expressing love and commitment, but in the context of rape or incest, the same act becomes dehumanisation, exploitation and violation. Sexual meanings vary therefore from expressions of love to procreation, from romanticism to eroticism and fetishism, from personal identity to religious dimensions; personal responsibility towards self and others is similarly present. Consequently, it is naive to assume sexual activity affects only the physical self and not the other faculties making up the essential being; emotions, mind and spirit all play their part, and may be built up or torn down. This is why human sexuality matters, as Williams emphasises, ‘Distorted sexuality is the effort to bring my happiness back under my control and to refuse to let my body be recreated by another person’s perception. . . to withdraw my body from the enterprise of human beings making sense in collaboration, in community [and] from language, culture and politics.’ Moltmann-Wendel agrees, and confirms, ‘Disembodiment is lovelessness. Insecurity, coldness, power and weariness are hidden behind abstraction.’